I am one of those foreigners, but I won’t disappoint him. I can’t, not with Martin smiling across the table as if he’s already the new game director. I want to show Lars I welcome and appreciate every aspect of his culture—the culture I’m trying to fit into.
“It’s great, I love it,” I say.
Lars nods, satisfied with my answers. I pray he won’t start offering me licorice and liver pâté sandwiches at every opportunity.
“Favorite place in Copenhagen?” Lars continues to interrogate me.
“That’s a hard one,” I say, this time with honesty. I love the entire city. “Christiansborg Palace.” I choose to show I appreciate history and architecture since my real answer—Strøget, the main shopping street—would certainly disappoint someone as cultural and intellectual as Lars.
“Last one now,” he says, enjoying the interview and my very suitable replies. “The best restaurant you have dined at with Storm?”
Ai, caramba. We have never been to a restaurant together, but that would be a wrong answer on too many levels...
Fuuuudge. I can’t name any fine restaurant. I’m doomed.
Martin is looking at me with a victorious smile on his beetle face. I wonder why he didn’t tell Lars anything. Did Thomas not share with Martin that Erik and I were never a couple? Does Martin just think we broke up? Or is he saving the bomb for later? He looks very pleased with himself right now. He’s counting on me giving myself away.
But I won’t give him the pleasure of my defeat.
“Noma,” I say on impulse. Noma has been nominated as the world’s best restaurant many times, which is the only reason I’ve heard of it.
“Oh, you’ve eaten there?” Lars sounds surprised—and excited. Oh no. “Lotte and I have been trying to get a table there for a long time.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t easy.” I give him the fakest smile humankind has ever witnessed, deeply regretting the snowball of falsehoods I’ve created.
“Funny, because they have been closed half of the year,” Martin says, annoying as always. “I thought you and Erik started dating in October.”
All the blood in my body goes up to my face.
I’ve messed it up. So bad.
“I wasn’t with Erik. I’ve been to Denmark before.” I try to fix the situation, but it’s going from bad to dreadful, and Martin’s smile is just growing.
Got you, his eyes say.
Luckily, a mob enters the room at once, and our chatting must end. Lars doesn’t seem caught up in my words. I sigh, relieved, even though I know my lie might come back to haunt me.
When the meeting ends two hours later, I’m eager to stretch my legs, so I grab a coffee just to have a break before returning to my desk.
To my dismay, however, Martin catches up with me.
“Wow,” he says in a dry voice, putting a cup next to mine before I start the machine. I move a few steps away and cross my arms over my chest protectively. “What a stack of lies you’ve accumulated.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Come on, machine, hurry. I’m almost ready to abandon my coffee, just to get away from Martin.
But I know he won’t leave me alone now.
“You’re even dating other guys... I wonder how you’re going to keep all those skeletons in your closet.”
I swallow painfully. Thomas did tell him. All of it, for sure.
But I mean, why should he be more loyal to a girl he’d just met than to his good friend?
“I’m not dating anyone but Erik.” I keep my composure. He wants to break me down. Get me to confess. I won’t give him that. It’s his word against mine.
“My sources say Erik has never been your boyfriend.”
I’m shaking, my hands closing into fists. I could punch him right now.
Martin takes a step closer, his face uncomfortably close to mine. “Your farce will end, Marisol. You won’t get to stay in this company, lying to a dignified man like Lars, winning a position that should be given to me or anyone honest who is at Scorpio Games for better reasons than to not be unemployed.”
“I deserve to be here,” I say, more to myself than to him.
“And that’s another lie you tell. But keep that one to yourself.”
He turns to take his coffee. I’m stuck in place, breathing hard, my entire body shaking.
“He’ll realize at some point,” Martin says with eyes on his espresso, the confidence of a winner exhaling through his pores. “Erik, I mean. He’ll see he won’t achieve his silly revenge and will only get his heart broken if he gives you a chance. Just like it was broken the first time.”
The first time... I want to kill Martin. With my bare hands.
“As for Lars,” Martin continues, blowing on his coffee and billowing steam that makes his glasses foggy. “I won’t leave that to chance. He deserves the truth.”
I shake my head, biting my lower lip so hard it almost bleeds. I feel the tears coming, but I can’t let him see me cry.
“If you don’t tell Lars, I will,” he concludes and turns to go back to his desk.
Fuck you, Martin.
