I'm Not My Boss' Storage
Old Money
“BERLIN and Frankfurt are dynamic cities. Our schedule there is more crowded than the previous places. I hope you can follow every activity there well.”
Ishaan's message is firmly attached to Agni's mind. So before arriving in Berlin, he took the time to dig up information about the city. From the neighborhood of the apartment they occupy, public transportation routes, cafes and restaurants nearby, to emergency numbers that he can call.
Upon arriving at the station, a well-dressed man approached Agni and Ishaan. He greeted them in German, then asked the two to come to the pakir area. Agni was stunned as the man opened the door of the luxurious black car and hinted at them to enter.
“Let me explain in the apartment,” Ishaan said, as if to read Agni's confusion. Then, he said something to the man who was also their driver in German. Shortly after, they entered the steakhouse's thru drive to order lunch.
The apartment that Ishaan chose was near the city center. There, there were four servants, two women and a man each, who greeted Agni and Ishaan upon entering the building. Their belongings were then taken to the fifth floor which was also the top floor above.
“Enjoy your stay,” said a female staffer, this time in English.
Agni follows Ishaan into the apartment. Incredibly, although the design is minimalist, the choice of colors, elements, and furniture is very classy. One thing that amazed Agni was the maximum lighting of the long window in the middle room.
“This apartment belongs to my family, more precisely from Mama's side,” Ishaan said. “Then, we would have stayed here if we were on vacation or family gathering. Now it's just a stopping place. The lower floors are rented out to tourists and business clients.”
They deserve different treatment. “His family is from Germany?”
“Surely my face does not look European, yes?” ishaan seloroh.
Since the first time he met, Agni was curious about the Ishaan family lineage. The man had firm facial features, especially a runny nose and a strong jawline. Not to mention his towering body. However, the skin tends to be brown. Her eyes are also dark brown.
“I don't think too much about it.” Agni does not want to be considered too kepo.
“German-Moroccan descent books. My late father was from Indonesia, but he often told his grandfather Korean.” Perhaps that also explains the shape of Ishaan's rather narrowed eyes. “The business I'm managing right now actually comes from the Mama family, but since marriage it was taken over by my late father.”
Agni. To be honest, he has not studied further about the profile of the Marlon family-run company. But throughout following Ishaan and studying his lifestyle, Agni believes they come from the old money.
“I want to change clothes first.” Ishaan opened the door to her room. “There will be a waiter who delivered the lunch I bought earlier. Please styled, yes.”
Shortly after Ishaan's room door closed, the main doorbell rang. Agni quickly opened it, then let the waiter insert a trolley containing two servings of wagyu tenderloin steak. While arranging lunch at the table, Agni imagined the days she would spend in Berlin and Frankfurt.
Somehow, Agni felt she would see the side that Ishaan had been hiding from her here all along.
*
Speaking of old money, Agni remembered Shia's story about her trip with Om Pram. For five days and four nights, his best friend was invited to travel to various places in Indonesia. From Yogyakarta, Bali, Lombok, to Raja Ampat. During that time, the man never touched Shia.
“Macem-macemlah I was invited to watch the art stage, stop by the exhibition, eat at a fancy restaurant. Dikasih nice clothes too,” Shia explained via video call at the time. “Continue before returning to Jakarta, he gave me a check of two hundred million. But, if you want to liquidin check, I can only come to the bank he appointed.”
“Lo never ask family or what does he do?”
“Somehow, he has rules about it. You can't ask for identity, family, or work. He just wants to be called Om Pram.” The face of the friend suddenly became sad. “On the way home, the driver who nganterin I finally told that Om Pram who is also his superior was again in severe pain. The doctor said his life chances are a month or two months.
“Om Pram has had many times of contact with his children to come and get him, but they are busy or something. Many reasons. So lonely, he finally took an alternative way to contact a girl call my kayak.”
Om Pram's story proves that wealth is sometimes not always able to meet all human needs. In the case of the man is to meet his children. While in Agni's case, the treasure blinded the conscience of the stepmother.
“Gue still thinks the same Om Pram. Unfortunately I can not contact them again,” said Shia. “The number used for my contact is not active.”
“How are you? Can you use?”
“Beres woke up the same lunch earlier, I went straight to the bank. They can lairin, keep nawarin I make save in savings. Yes I have processed, all of you become customers there.”
In addition, Shia kept her promise: she would retire from her challenging side job. Even the friend has been looking for employee class information on several campuses, including where Agni attended college, to continue her education.
“I had dry clean once, Mr.” Agni became curious, would she soon be wearing that pretty dress?
“Next week, we will attend a party in Frankfurt. My company's client who runs it. The next day, you gave the dress to my waiter to make dry clean and keep it clean.”
As Ishaan passes to her room, Agni takes out a tablet to check the email as well as installs a dress-related reminder. Agni was about to continue the work when Ishaan came out of the room and approached her.
“Your work is still much?”
“I just opened the document that you sent to email.”
Ishaan rubbed the back of his neck. “Do it later. I'd like to ask you to do something else.”
The deg! From the way he spoke, Ishaan seemed to be asking for things outside of work.
“What can I help you with?”
The man cleared his throat, then leaned his body. “Can you wear the dress now? I want to check if the color and design match my suit.”
Suddenly, Agni's cheeks warmed up. The request sounded unsuspecting, but imagining her being paired with Ishaan in a classy formal dress made her—ah, Agni did not know what to say.
“Agni? Any problems?” Ishaan sounded anxious.
“No, Sir. In a moment, I went to the room first to change clothes.”
*
The dress, an off shoulder model with a light chiffon cloth, fell perfectly on Agni's body. Unfortunately, Agni had trouble closing the zipper on the back of the dress. He also did not want to damage it considering the price is equivalent to the cost of living in Jakarta for a week.
“Agni, are you ready?” Ishaan. “I wait outside.”
Agni muttered an oath. She should have asked one of Ishaan's female servants to help her. Not wanting to make Ishaan wait for long, Agni then snatched the sweater to cover her upper body.
“Master,” Agni stepped out of the room, “sorry, I can't pull the back zipper of the dress, so I put on a sweater.”
In front of her, Ishaan stood dashingly wearing a black three piece suit with a green accent that was in harmony with her dress. For a moment, Ishaan looked at him in astonishment, but immediately understood the situation that was happening.
“Let me help pull it up,” Ishaan offers.
Agni is getting nervous. “I—I try once again.”
“Agni, I'll close my eyes. We stand in front of you in the mirror so you can see the evidence.”
They looked at me for a moment. Ishaan even kept his distance before Agni gave a decision. The incident in Rome should have convinced Agni that Ishaan is a good man. At least for the time being. However, coming into contact with a man, although unintentionally, always reminds Agni of bad events before she is evicted from the house.
“Tuan—” Agni inhale. “Can you just call one of the maids to help me?”
Unexpectedly, Ishaan nodded quickly. “For a moment, I call him first. You can go back to your room.”
Ten minutes later, Agni came out of the room with the maid Ishaan called. He looked at the man again, and the two developed a smile. Both admire each other.
***