The following week was when things began to take a turn.
"Are you free this evening, Miss Meinhardt?"
"…Pardon?"
Klaus spoke without raising his eyes from the document in his hand. "I asked if you are free."
Gisela blinked, unsure how to respond. "I… well… my husband is waiting for me at home, so—"
"It's for work."
She stopped mid-thought, thrown off by his abrupt clarification. "For… work?"
"We have a meeting with investors next week. Preparation is required. I expect you to assist."
"I see. I can help with documents tomorrow morning—"
"No. This evening," he said, cutting off any attempt at negotiation.
"…Right."
He returned to his papers, uninterested in her situation. "There are projections, revisions and paperwork that must be completed before the meeting. It's simply too much to finish during standard hours."
"I understand," Gisela replied. "Where will this preparation take place?"
"The dining hall on the twenty-sixth floor. Seven o'clock."
"Dining hall?"
