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103

Nerthus

I’m wearing my happiest smile and a basket filled with muffins as I halt in front of a big wooden reception desk. My outfit consisting of a knee-long woolen skirt with a gray and beige square pattern, and a black pullover worn over a white blouse shouts ‘good girl’ from a mile away.

And I really hope it will give those stuck-up people a bit of trust in a total stranger.

“Good morning. I have an appointment with Mr. Johnson. If you’d be so kind to advise him that Gemma Ferguson is here.” I say in a honeyed, placated voice.

The lady at the reception smiles at me and picks up the phone. “Of course, Ms. Ferguson.”

I turn around to watch the interiors of the historic building as she announces me to the lucky fellow who doesn’t know about his luck yet.

“Ms. Ferguson?” I jump as if torn out of my staring in awe as I look at her. “Mr. Johnson will be ready to receive you in a minute. If you’d be so kind as to take a seat, his assistant will pick you up in a bit.”

“Oh, thank you very
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