Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(34)

That Sunday, Janine is not here to wake me up, but the sunlight is strong enough to pierce through the curtains and cast light across the room. I open my eyes gently—the light is so bright. No wonder. The clock screams eleven thirty a.m. I gasp. It’s so late. I leap out of bed, take my clothes from the floor, and put them back in the bag. I will ask Janine to wash them and give them to a shelter tomorrow. I never want to see them again.

Speaking of tomorrow, it’s Monday tomorrow. My first day as an intern. Oh God! I trot to the kitchen to prepare some tea.

“Good morning, Petra.”

What is he doing here? “Hey, good morning, Dad. What are you doing here? It’s not usual for you to be in the kitchen. Are you feeling alright?”

“Well, it’s not usual for you to go to a concert either. I just wanted to know how your evening was.”

My heart begins thundering nervously. I put the water on to boil. I swear if Alex told him anything, I’ll never talk to him ever again. Dad’s drinking his usual espresso, the journal closed on the table. “Indeed. It was fun,” I say while choosing my tea for this morning. “Do we have more matcha?”

“I don’t know, since I don’t drink tea. Just fun? That’s all?”

“Yep. That’s all. Ah, I found it.”

“Petra, I only want your happiness and your well-being, you know that,” he starts. “If there is anything you want to tell me, or ask me, I won’t get mad or angry…”

Is that some sort of hint? Does he know about last night? Did Alex tell him? Of course he did! They are best friends. It’s obvious he would report the incident to him. I take a deep breath, trying to control my nerves, and pour the boiled water in my mug. “I know.”

I hear only silence. He’s probably expecting me to open a bit more, but nope. Sorry, Dad, not happening.

“You like Jimmy, don’t you?” My eyes widen in shock. That’s all he knows? I turn back to face him. He looks thoughtful, lost. I can’t stop giggling. “Why are you laughing like that? It’s alright. You don’t need to feel embarrassed. You are not a child anymore.”

“Dad, please stop,” I say, still laughing. “This talk doesn’t fit you at all.” I try to calm myself down. “I have no feelings whatsoever toward Jimmy. Nope. Just forget him, okay? And as you said before, boys are a stupid and useless distraction. I’m focused and looking forward to my internship. It starts tomorrow, remember?”

He smiles proudly, maybe also in relief. “Of course I remember. So, are you still sure about hiding your identity?”

“I am. I’ll be Petra Williams, as we agreed. I want the managers to assess me fairly.”

“As you wish. Well, don’t forget to be at the office at nine o’clock sharp. Andrew will greet the new interns.”

“Yes, Dad. I’ll be there at nine on the dot.”

He stands up, moves toward me, and gives me a hug. “I’m proud of you, Petra, so proud,” he adds before kissing my forehead. “Your godfather told me about the fund he opened for you to invest in emerging artists. I’m sorry I didn’t support you before. He’s a better listener than I.”

My face beams with joy. “It’s alright. I’m happy you like the idea.” Then I promptly ask, "By the way, may I invite Emma over for lunch?”

Dad smiles back, glancing at his watch. “Sure. I have to go, actually. I have lunch in Greenwich. See you later.” And he gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before heading out.

“Bye, Dad. Enjoy.”





Chapter 9





Manhattan, June 3, 2019

Petra Van Gatt





Monday comes sooner than I expected. It feels like the most stressful days always come faster than those I look forward to. Janine’s in my bedroom promptly at seven o’clock, but this morning I didn’t need her help to wake me up. My eyes were wide open a long time ago. Anxiety is the one to blame. I take a deep breath and leap out of bed, running to the shower. I know I’ll be the youngest of the interns, but as my father said, that’s no reason for me not to become the best among them. After showering, I decide to wear a white shirt, navy blazer, dark skinny jeans, and my usual beige flats, which match perfectly with anything. I wonder if I should tie up my hair. I think so, so I do a presentable ponytail.

A different driver is waiting outside. He drives me down to the office near the One World Trade Center. Traffic is pretty intense this morning.

I walk into the building—it’s one of those glittering skyscrapers made of marble and glass reflecting the sunlight that beams and bounces off the walls. It feels chilly. A receptionist is sitting behind a large counter, handing out cards to people as they arrive. “Good morning. You are?”

“Hi. I’m Petra V…Williams. Petra Williams. I’m one of the new interns at Gatt-Dieren Capital.”

“Very well. Do you have an ID?”

“Here.” I hand him my new fake ID. Very authentic. Emma knows a Cuban somewhere near Tribeca who makes the best ones in town.

“Thank you, Ms. Williams. Here is your card for the elevator, just on your right. Floor fifty-seven.”





Floor fifty-seven welcomes me directly into a spacious, bright lobby—walls and floor fully marbled in white with a modern wooden reception desk in front. I can see my name, “Gatt-Dieren Capital Management Group,” written on the wall right behind it. I smile, quite proud.