The Reluctant Duchess Ch. 05

"No, I guess not. But what about Mark?" Jo pressed.

"What about him, Jo? We're not exclusive."

"It seems like it, though. I mean he moved halfway around the world for you."

"And to work at the Fund. It looks great on his résumé."

"Do you really believe that's why he moved here?"

"Why are we talking about Mark? He's a guy. A nice guy. He's good in bed. But we aren't married."

Johanna wasn't pleased or convinced by Sophie's dismissal of Mark, who she liked and thought was good for Sophie. But her official job was to make Sophie's life work smoothly in accordance with her wishes, but also, unofficially, to protect her as best as possible, and she already felt like she was on thin ice with her boss. "If you do this, please do it incognito. And bring at least one bodyguard."

Sophie thought for a second. "OK. I'll wear the fucking wig, and be 'Anna' for the weekend. And I guess I can bring Klaus. He'll fit in, but won't get in my way."

Relieved, Johanna replied, "Thanks, Sophie. If anything happened to you...."

"I know."

"What are you going to tell Mark?"

"I'm going to tell him exactly what I'm doing."

"He's not going to be happy."

"That's his problem, isn't it?"

Johanna knew better than to tell Sophie what she thought when she was acting this way. Sophie had definitely changed over the last few months, but clearly her old desires hadn't been totally erased.

That night, after a satisfying evening of sex with Mark, Sophie said, "By the way, I'm going to Berlin this weekend."

"Some sort of official thing? I hadn't heard of anything."

"No, just a girls weekend with Janine."

Mark had heard about Janine's exploits from Sophie, who always seemed jealous of her uninhibited adventures, and he felt uneasy. "What are you going to do?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"I don't know yet. Probably drink, dance, the usual stuff."

"Anything else?" Mark asked, warily.

Sophie's voice hardened. "I don't think it's any of your damn business."

Mark sat up in Sophie's bed. "So, this is still just some casual fling for you, Sophie? All the time we spend together? All our talks? You know I don't feel that way, right?"

Although she understood exactly how Mark felt, Sophie's feelings of being trapped had resurfaced in earnest since Christmas, and she was determined to do something to break out. She summoned all of her willpower to prevent her voice from shaking, and responded coolly, "Mark, I'm not responsible for how you feel. I've told you constantly that while I have strong feelings for you, I'm not ready for any sort of exclusive arrangement."

Mark felt sick. Although Sophie had never explicitly agreed, Mark had been sure that she had come around to his way of seeing things. It had been a while since he wondered whether he had made a terrible mistake, leaving his friends and family—and a good job—in New York to move to Klippenberg to follow such a mercurial, if fascinating, woman. He got out of bed and started to dress.

"Mark, don't go."

"Sophie, I can't stay here tonight," Mark replied, his hurt feelings obvious in his voice.

"But it's late and Werner is off now. There's no way for you to get back to your flat. At least stay to the morning. Here, or even in the room next door."

"No, Sophie. I'll walk. I have a lot of thinking to do."

"But it's freezing cold." Despite her harsh comments to Mark, she did truly like him, and didn't want him to be uncomfortable.

"It's not that far, and anyway, I doubt that I'll feel it." Finishing dressing, he left without saying anything further.

Annoyed at both the conversation and the fact that she'd be alone in bed that night, Sophie rolled on her side and tried to sleep.

Meanwhile, Mark stormed through the silent palace, retrieved his hat, coat and gloves, and went out. It was, as Sophie predicted, quite cold, but nothing unfamiliar to Mark, who had lived through many cold winters growing up. On the nearly two mile walk to his flat, he tried to make sense of Sophie, and his feelings for her. Arriving home, Mark turned up the heat, took a hot shower and tried, unsuccessfully to sleep.

*

Saturday night, Mark was trying to find something on TV to take his mind off of Sophie, but nothing worked. Frustrated, he dressed, grabbed his coat, hat and scarf and headed out, not sure why or where. He walked through the cold streets, past mostly closed stores and a few open restaurants. As he was walking down Zollstrasse, a door opened, and a young couple emerged from what appeared to be a bar. Seeing it as a sign, and needing to warm up, Mark went inside.

It was a bar, with some couples and groups sitting at tables, drinking beer and wine and eating from small plates. There was a wooden bar, with one older man drinking alone. As Mark approached the bar, he noticed that the bartender was a young woman with a thin, athletic body and short dark hair. Sitting down, he noticed that she was attractive, but looked all business. She said something to him in German, and Mark shrugged. "Can I have a beer?" he asked in English.

"Sure," the bartender responded in accented English. "Any preference?"

Normally, Mark was kind of a beer snob, but his mind was too confused to sort out what he wanted. "No, just bring me something good, please?"

She turned around, and Mark noticed a tattoo on her right shoulder, visible above the collar of her tight white tank top. After a few seconds, she returned, with a mug containing a rich yellow liquid and a small frothy head. "Let me know if you like this. It's my favorite."

"Thanks." Taking a sip, Mark immediately enjoyed the beer. It was crisp, and hoppy, but not overly so, like many trendy IPAs these days. Meanwhile, the bartender was chatting with the other gentleman at the bar, and brought him a refill before checking back in on Mark.

"Like it?"

Nodding, Mark replied, "I do. What is it?"

"Rölksbrau. It's brewed just over the German border in a tiny brewery."

"Thanks, I like it."

She looked at him closely. "Have you ever been in here before?"

"No, but I live only a few blocks away."

"I feel like I've seen you before."

"Sorry, I don't think we've met. I'd remember."

She smiled. Not a bad line, she thought, and tending bar, she'd heard many. "I'm Annalise," she responded.

"Mark." He stuck out his hand, and they shook.

"Wait—you're American, right?"

"I am," Mark answered, nodding.

"I know where I know you from—you're the Grand Duchess' boyfriend."

Mark's smile disappeared. "Was, I guess. I think we're over—if we ever were anything." He drained his glass.

"I'm sorry," Annalise replied, refilling his mug. "But I'm not surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"Our Grand Duchess has always been, how do you say, a little flighty."

"What do you mean? I know that she's a little immature sometimes."

Annalise smiled, a little ruefully. "Mark, this is a small country, and I think that you've probably discovered already that everyone seems to know everyone." Mark nodded. "I knew her brother Josef when we were kids in school, before he was sent off to boarding school. So I got to see Sophie as a child, and she was kind of a spoiled brat."

"I guess that really doesn't surprise me."

"And even after she grew up, I could tell that she was more than a little selfish—the poor little rich girl, is what you say, right?"

"She's not so bad now, I think," Mark responded, finding himself defending Sophie, despite the fact that she had broken his heart.

"Really?" Annalise replied, before walking out from behind the bar to clear some plates. Mark couldn't help but notice how her jeans hugged her slim, long legs and butt.

When Annalise returned, Mark drank his beer quietly, thinking about his feelings about Sophie, and watching Annalise work behind the bar. She turned to check on Mark's progress with his second beer.

"Annalise, you know who I am. Tell me about yourself. How'd you get into bartending?"

"Actually, my family owns the bar, and a couple of restaurants in the city. Right now, my father runs the fancier restaurant, my older brother runs our family place, and I get the bar. But someday, I want to run them all," she said, with confidence.

"My parents have a restaurant back in the States, actually."

"But that wasn't for you?"

"No. I mean, I enjoyed working there during high school, and summers, but I wanted to get into the financial field. I really love it, actually."

"That's nice. And if I need someone to wash dishes some night, I know who to ask."

"Funny that you should say that," Mark started, before telling Annalise about Sophie in the kitchen over Christmas.

"Maybe you've had a good effect on her, Mark," Annalise mused.

"Clearly not enough," Mark grumbled.

"Hey, Annalise, can we have dinner some time?" Mark asked.

The bartender looked surprised. "Sure, Mark. But only as friends. You're clearly not over Sophie, and I'm not interested in being your rebound girl."

"God no, Annalise. That's not what I was thinking. Tell me that we aren't hitting it off now."

"You seem like a nice guy, but just as friends, OK?"

"I guess I'm always destined for the friend zone," Mark replied, finishing his beer and indicating to Annalise that he didn't want another one.

"I'm off on Wednesday, Mark. Pick me up here at 8, OK?"

"Here? On your off day?"

Laughing, Annalise responded, "We own the building—I live upstairs."

Mark handed her his credit card, and she stuck it into the reader, returning with the receipt. Mark stood and put on his coat. "See you Wednesday,"

"Until then, Mark. Be good, and stay warm."

Mark smiled and left the bar, heading home.

*

That Monday afternoon, Sophie, looking haggard and tired, returned to the palace and was met by Johanna, who had hopes of getting Sophie back on schedule.

"Forget it, Jo. I need to sleep. And another shower, before I can focus on work.

"Good weekend, then?"

Sophie shrugged. "Some of it. I'm out of practice, I guess."

"OK. I'll move all of your meetings today. Get some rest. You look rough."

"Thanks." Sophie turned towards the stairs that led to her bedroom, but then turned back. "Have you spoken to Mark, Jo?"

"No. You haven't?"

"Not since he left here angry the other night. And he didn't respond to any of my texts."

Can you blame him, Jo thought to herself, but instead responded, "Give him time, Sophie."

She nodded, and continued toward the stairs.

*

"Mark, this is Jo."

"Hey, how are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. Look, I'm calling because Sophie just got back and was asking about you."

"That's nice. Look, I need to get back to work."

"She wanted to know why you didn't respond to her texts."

"Did she ask you to call me?"

"No, Mark. I just think you guys are really good together."

"She doesn't agree, apparently. And why do you care?"

"Mark, you know her. She has commitment issues, and she's been through a lot. And I care because I care about both of you. Not to mention that I'm not her favorite person right now, and would love to do something to make her feel better."

"Thanks, Jo. But I laid my cards on the table. Told her how I felt. And she went off to Berlin to do who knows what with who knows who. She made it clear that she doesn't want the kind of relationship that I want."

"She doesn't know what she wants, Mark. Or really, she does, but she won't admit it."

"Either way, I feel like it's up to her to make the next move."

"Maybe she tried, but you didn't respond."

Mark paused. Jo may have a point, he thought, but it wouldn't have gone well if I had responded, considering how angry and hurt I was. "Maybe, but she knew I didn't want her to go, and she went. What was she like when she came back?"

"Honestly, she looked like shit, and was exhausted."

"Exactly."

"But Mark, she asked about you. A lot."

"That's nice, Jo, but I think I need some space, myself. I'm not some dog that she can kick to the curb, and then will come back, begging for more. If she wants to talk, she can call me herself." Mark disconnected the call, and walked back down the hall to his desk.

*

Johanna continued to tread carefully around Sophie, who had been on a rampage since she returned from Berlin. Nothing she was offered, from food to memos to clothing, met with her satisfaction. She had screamed at two Cabinet ministers more than twice her age, and reduced an intern to tears. Sophie refused to speak with her mother, and even Count Markel was rebuffed when he tried to offer a fatherly ear. And she continued to treat Johanna frostily, limiting their interactions to work. Work was piling up, and Sophie had refused to approve and sign anything until it met with her apparently unreasonable requirements, causing government to crawl to a stop. Without either Johanna or Mark to speak with, Sophie's isolation was nearly complete, and Johanna noticed she had taken to drinking herself to sleep at night, which only exacerbated her foul mood, especially in the late morning, when she finally dragged her ass out of bed.

Johanna was particularly on edge because she was about to tell Sophie something that she was sure would make things even worse. She considered withholding the information, but hoped that the shock might make Sophie come to her senses and end her unpleasant and overbearing behavior. Also, Johanna was concerned that if Sophie found out the information from someone else, it would be worse than if the news was broken by someone she had trusted and relied upon.

Steeling her nerve, and taking a deep breath, Johanna knocked on Sophie's office door and entered without waiting for an invitation, as she regularly did.

"What do you want," Sophie snapped without even looking up from her phone.

In the most soothing possible voice, Johanna replied, "I have something to tell you."

"Then spit it out, Jo, and stop wasting my fucking time."

"OK. I thought you might be interested in knowing that Mark went out on a date last night." Johanna reflexively took a step back, in fear that Sophie might throw something at her again.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mark took her out to dinner at Albert's restaurant, and he spoke with them."

Sophie paused. "So, who's his rebound bitch?"

"I think you may know her, actually. Annalise Wissel?"

Johanna could see Sophie processing the name. "Johan's older sister?"

Johanna nodded. "Yes. They own some restaurants and bars, but Johan moved to Germany a few years ago to DJ."

Sophie looked pissed, her eyes narrowed to slits. "She's older, right, like Josef's age?" Johanna nodded. "And beautiful, right?" Johanna nodded again.

Closing her eyes, Sophie breathed deeply, before throwing her phone against the wall, and watching as it smashed into pieces. Johanna made a mental note to get yet another new phone, and to alert the IT team that they would have to restore her data again.

"Fuck. FuckFuckFuck," Sophie yelled, putting her head on her desk. "Get out, Jo. Leave me alone," she demanded, her voice trembling.

*

Over the next few weeks, instead of being angry and unpleasant, Sophie performed her duties without joy or interest, much as she had done when the role was first thrust upon her. Nothing that anyone tried could shake her out of her funk. As Johanna and Albert's wedding approached, and the preparations became more serious, Sophie realized that she had no date for the affair, which depressed her even more. The other bridesmaids made sure to give her a wide berth when they met for lunches or dress fittings, although they were careful not to completely ignore their ruler, despite her sullen manner.

One evening, despite their strained relationship, Johanna played the "bride" card and prevailed upon Sophie to share a glass of wine with her at the end of the day. After making generic small talk about the wedding and other matters, Johanna asked Sophie, "Why don't you reach out to Mark, and see if he'll escort you to the wedding. He's invited anyway."

Sophie's eyes narrowed. "Why should I do that? He's moved on, and so have I." She took a big swig of wine.

"Have you, Sophie? Ever since I told you about Mark and Annalise having dinner, you've been walking around in a daze."

Sophie's face turned red, and she was about to ream out Johanna, who felt a little afraid that nasty Sophie was about to make a return. But Sophie sighed, saying, "OK, maybe I haven't completely moved on. But he has, right?"

Johanna knew, from talking to friends, that, in fact, Mark and Annalise had been spending time together, but she had no clue as to what their relationship was—nor had she told Sophie about anything she had learned since that first dinner. "Sophie, I don't know if he's moved on, or is just on the rebound, or what, but maybe you can patch things up."

Sophie sat, silently, drinking her wine and thinking. "I do need someone to go to the wedding with—and it might as well be Mark. But I'm not trying to get back together with him—he broke up with me, right? And he's been dating other women, right?"

Johanna knew that Sophie was trying to put a good face on the situation and would never admit that she was trying to crawl back to Mark, even if that was what she was doing. "Good. You should text him, or call."

"No, Jo, you set up something."

"Are you sure? I think it would be better coming from you directly."

She shook her head. "No. You do my scheduling. Schedule it." Sophie drained the last of her wine, stood up, and left the room. Johanna sat, finishing her wine, hoping that it would work.