Chapter 14
Kjell
Jakob positions himself at the minimalist kitchenette in our newsroom.
"So the old Blohm is in the ICU, and you suspect he's in a life-threatening condition," he says, leaning the back of his head against the white lacquered upper cabinets. "That's all? You haven't found out more?"
"I had less than forty-eight hours." I yawn and take an espresso cup from the cabinet, placing it on the coffee machine. The sleepless night in Milan still weighs on me, and even last night, I barely got any rest. My last conversation with Sky haunts me. She acted as though I wasn't even there during the flight back to Stockholm.
Stop.
That doesn't matter. I don't care about her.
The old Sky is the real one, I remind myself not for the first time.
"You managed to cover the revelation story about the abuses at the parcel delivery services in one morning," he observes, pretending to search for something in my expression.
Thinking about Sky's abrupt farewell and the coldness she brought with her, I press a button on the coffee machine. It hums to life, filling the room with the aroma of rich coffee. "My sources were much more talkative then," I reply as the machine drips the first few drops.
"And since when have you had trouble getting the truth out of someone?"
Jakob seems surprised. He turns to face me. "Usually, you just have to look at people to see what's going on with them."
Yes, that's true, but with Sky, it's different, and I don't know why. She's so... everything and nothing at the same time. Even though I didn't want to think about her anymore, her image passes through my mind again. I see her frightened gaze. Slowly, her expression changes, becoming tender and gentle.
So pure. So real.
Apparently embarrassed, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyelids flutter, and then she fixates me with an intensity that takes my breath away. Her eyes light up, and her red curls play around her cheeks.
"Fuck, what's going on with you?" Someone bumps into me, pushing me aside.
Jakob.
He squeezes in at the coffee machine. My cup is there, and coffee spills over.
I run my fingers through my hair, feeling somewhat embarrassed. "I'm exhausted, sorry."
He stops the machine and grabs three paper napkins from the holder. "You're completely off your game," he corrects me with a concerned tone, pressing the paper towels into the coffee puddle spreading on the kitchen counter.
"Could be." Even though he's exaggerating, he's probably right to some extent. I take the brimming cup and carefully bring it to my lips. "This family just occupies my mind." Yes, that's it.That's why I feel like I can't let go of Sky. "They have a secret, I'm sure of it."
That's it. My constant thoughts about her have nothing to do with Sky herself. It's my journalistic instinct telling me to stay on top of it.
Jakob disposes of the soaked napkins in the trash can. "Tell me more."
I place my coffee on a saucer, walk over to the bistro table, and begin to share what I've found so far.
Jakob comes over with a glass of water. "Okay. What's next?"
"She might be trying to take over the company. What do you think the empire is worth?" I ask Jakob, grabbing a spoon from the container on the table.
He shrugs. "It must be millions. Maybe hundreds of millions."
What if Sky is really after the company?
No. That's not like her.
Or is it?
