“Uh, well, thank you, Mrs. Kaufman. And you’re very welcome.” And if that wasn’t the heights of embarrassment Rafe didn’t know what was. He sank back down into his chair, hating the fact that he was the center of attention. And, what was worse, it was for doing something good. Notoriety he could take but praise and tears were elements he could do without.
After the ladies had departed it took a while for Rafe to get back into work mode. In fact it was damn near frustrating to get his mind back on lesson plans. It took him another ten minutes to concede defeat. Better to just pack up and head for home where he could think on Anya in peace.
Maybe it was a good thing he left when he did because it was while at his apartment that an idea came to him. Since a simple show of kindness had made such an impact on Albert what if he were to organize a mentorship program for children who had lost a parent – or God forbid, both parents – in military combat?
The more he thought about it the more the idea appealed to Rafe and he knew that by the time he returned to the United States it would be a done deal. He’d never liked the idea of going into business just for the sake of making money and this would be a worthwhile cause to support. He could hardly way to get it set up.
But then the thought of returning to the United States made him pause. What would that mean for his new found relationship with Anya? And what was the nature of that relationship, anyway? He would almost say Anya felt for him the same way he felt about her. Still, one should never assume. When he saw her again they would need to have a serious talk.
Maybe it wasn’t a surprise that when Rafe finally saw Anya back at school on Friday the plan to sit and have a serious talk was definitely not ‘top-of-mind’. In fact, he totally forgot to lay that on the table. As soon as he spied her in the hallway his heart jerked in his chest and he strode after her, his long legs letting him catch up with her in seconds. “Welcome back, Miss Petersen,” he said and when she turned and saw him she was all smiles.
“Rafe. I went to the lounge looking for you.”
“I was setting up the classroom,” he said, his tone just shy of brusque. He couldn’t help wondering how she could greet him with such a cheery face when she hadn’t even bothered to tell him she was leaving.
“I thought as much. Hey, I’m running off to class right now but can we talk after the children have left for the day? I’ll see you later, okay?” And just like that, totally unapologetic, she turned and left him standing there in the middle of the hallway.
Rafe shoved his hands inside his pockets as he stared after her. That didn’t go quite the way he was expecting. He would have thought she would open the conversation with an apology, even a quick one, followed by an explanation of her reason for keeping her seminar a secret. But, no. Instead, she’d pushed him away until the afternoon. Okay…
Rafe kept himself busy all day, not wanting to dwell on Anya’s return to school. As he kept telling himself, he was no kid. He needed to stop obsessing over this girl. Much good that self-talk did him. He was dying for the day to end so they could have that talk she’d promised.
And it was the torture of waiting for the hours to pass that made Rafe realize one thing – if ever he’d thought he was the one in control of this relationship he was dead wrong.
***
Anya was one hundred percent satisfied with herself and she had good reason. She hadn’t told Rafe she was going to be away most of the week and it had been deliberate. If you wanted to get a man really interested in you, you couldn’t be too easily accessible – not all the time. Sometimes it was good to make a man miss you. Better yet, sometimes it was good to keep him wondering.
And that advice, compliments of her late Oma, was age-old and still relevant today. She’d proved that her grandmother's saying was true. If the look on Rafe’s face was anything to go by, he’d been eaten up with musings about her all week. And he wasn’t happy. She, on the other hand, could not have been more pleased.
That afternoon Rafe lingered in the staff room as she finished up the tasks that had piled up on her desk. It was telling that even though it took her over an hour after the regular work time he did not leave. When she finally packed up and gave him a wink he quickly packed up his desk, too, and then he took her armful of books and papers and walked her to her car.
He didn’t even wait for her to open or take her stuff from his arms. “So what about that talk you said we should have? Do you want to talk now or maybe we could go somewhere with more privacy?”
“Uhm.” She stretched it out like she was in deep thought. “Why don’t we wait until tomorrow to talk? There’s no rush.”
“No…what are you up to, Anya?” Eyes narrowed, his golden gaze was sharp as he stared down at her. “Is this some sort of game?”
“No, not at all. In fact…” she clicked the car door to unlock it, opened the back door then reached for the pile of papers in Rafe’s arms, “…this is very, very serious.” She made sure to insert a hint of mystery into her voice. “And that’s why I’ve decided this should wait until tomorrow.” She gathered the papers into her arms then turned and dumped them on the back seat. When she turned back to him she had a sly smile on her lips. “Pick me up tomorrow at eight. We’re going dancing.”
And then, not giving him the chance to respond, she stepped past him and hopped into the front seat of her car. “See you tomorrow,” she said with a wave and then she was off, leaving Rafe standing staring after her, his face the picture of consternation.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nur Fur Freunde was rocking Saturday night. As one of Bremen’s top electro clubs it was the first place Anya thought of taking Rafe for a night of dancing and fun. She’d heard through the grapevine that Moonbootica would be spinning at the turntables and she could think of no better way to spend the night than dancing to their DJ selections with Rafe rocking along with her. If Anya had a vice it had to be dancing and the fact that tonight she had the perfect person to go dancing with made it even better.
Although, she had to admit, that perfect person looked sort of out of his depth. “Do you come here often?” he yelled over the house music blasting in the club.
“Not so much but when I can,” she yelled back.” “I love dancing.”
His eyes were unreadable. “You hang here with your friends?”