Chapter One

1248 Words
One of the benefits about being a ‘digital nomad’ is that I am able to live anywhere in the world, and travel as I please, as long as I can lug my laptop around with me. My biggest client up to date was a game app development company that was owned by a Japanese firm, and yet, not one person I worked with was actually Japanese - we were all freelancers, stationed around the world, putting in our time and mailing and uploading content and ideas accordingly. And I loved it.  “So, we’re still looking to expand our projects by buying up existing apps and flipping them,” Jeanette rattled on, as I placed my phone on the dresser, hit the speaker button and proceeded to shove my feet into my new boots that had just been delivered - courtesy of online shopping. The sunlight cast a stream through my bedroom, lighting up my queen-sized bed in a way that created all sorts of homely vibes and feelings. It also reminded me that we were in spring, and the streets were beckoning me to come and play outside.  “That’s great,” I enthused, unsure why she was sharing her business strategy with me.  “So, the game about the witches and dragons we’ve been briefly chatting about…” “Yes?” I encouraged getting the second boot on. The laces creating a beautiful contrast against the warm caramel coloured leather.  “We need you to start storyboarding it, Frank will call you with regards to how many hours you require for this, and you’ll need to work closely with Josh and Pratt as they’ll be coding and animating it.”  I squealed in delight with Jeanette chuckling at my response. Not only did the project that I was dying to work on come through, I also got to work with Josh and Pratt who were both genius’ in their fields of work, but also just great, down-to-earth guys that are fun to work with.  “Hold your horses,” she laughed down the line, “there’s still one more thing.”  I waited a beat as she continued, “the investor that we’ve lined up for this project will be in Chicago next week and wants to meet the team then, are you able to make it?”  I groaned internally. Normally I loved travelling, but I currently lived in Luxembourg, which meant it was one hell of a flight to get to Chicago. Mentally reshuffling my existing appointments and trips, I readily agreed - I didn’t want to lose the job, so if Chicago was a defining factor about whether I’d be on the project or not, then I would go.  Signing off from the call, I stood up to examine how these boots looked on me in the full length mirror. I was greeted by the reflection of my paisley print dress that showed a hint of cleavage, flaring at the hips slightly and falling just above the knee. It reminded me that I was feminine and beautiful and bold, and all things inbetween.  With my golden locks curled down, framing my face, the brown lace-up ankle boots actually complimented the dress really well.  Giving myself a last look, my makeup was light and easy, ensuring that I didn’t look overdone.  I walked out of my apartment heading to our local cafe, where I would have to tell Vivienne that we would have to postpone our trip to switzerland scheduled for next week. In truth, she probably wouldn’t mind that much. She had a new guy she was seeing and meeting her for a coffee, was kind of like her coming up for the occasional breath of fresh air. Vivienne was the kind of friend that holds zero judgement, can drink you under the table, has a new guy every couple of weeks and holds down a six figure graphic design company with a ‘take-no-s**t’ attitude. She was one of my best friends, and I couldn't imagine my life without her.  I loved living in Luxembourg, sure it was expensive, but it was filled with all sorts of international and eclectic people. The other day I met an accountant who quit his accounting job and chose to become a cafe cook, because the price difference in pay was minimal and he found his accounting job too stressful. It kind of puts things into perspective. Plus, I’m always learning something here - meaning I’m never the smartest person in the room, which I like.  But, in truth, perhaps what I loved most about living in Luxembourg is that it is so far removed from my upbringing that I can’t help but adore everything about it. The people are engaging, the buildings boast history, and everyone seems so cultured, educated and refined. With the added bonus that no one knew where I came from, or what my upbringing was like. It gave me a fresh slate with people who wouldn’t judge me, or look at me with pity in their eyes, and who assumed I was like them - cultured and sophisticated.  As I stepped into the cafe, the smell of freshly baked bread welcomed me like a long-lost friend. Vivienne’s dark head of hair bobbed behind a pc, as she hunched over her laptop, her face scrunched up in concentration. I smiled, figuring with all her time spent with this new guy, she was probably playing catch-up with her clients and deadlines.  I caught the waiter’s attention, signalling for our usual, as I sat opposite her at the corner table. She was so engrossed in her work, that she didn’t even notice I was there. Her arm boasted a full sleeve of tattoos and I admired the artwork, noting that Vivienne lived her life boldly in everything she did, I envied her in that regard.  Slamming her screen shut, she gave me a feral grin as she took me in.  “Well, hello to you too!” I laughed.  “Ah!” She threw her hands up dramatically, “You look far too pretty, you’re making me look bad here. I swear the blue in your eyes gets bluer everytime”  “Tell me about Alan?” I laugh.  “Who?” she scrunches up her face, seemingly confused. “Oh, you mean Thom,” she states matter of factly.  My bad.  “Nah, we’re done. He was fun though,” she smiles, almost nostalgically.  Dammit. I was kind of counting on her being wrapped up in this guy while I went to Chicago. Grimacing and taking a sip of my coffee, I bite the bullet, explaining the Chicago trip and the need to postpone Switzerland.  “It’s fine,” she waves her hand in the air, “I’m so behind on work, I need to lock myself in my room for a week just to meet my deadlines.” I laughed outright. She had just confirmed what I knew all along. The minx was simply getting laid for the last week and doing zero work. Honestly, how she sustained her business was an enigma. I c****d my eyebrow at her in response.  “What?” She defended. “Actually, you should use this time in Chicago to get some - if you know what I mean,” she said while waggling her eyebrows up and down at me.  I laughed and shook my head, struggling to swallow my coffee at her ridiculous antics.  “I’m serious Sadie! You need to get laid, let a guy just have his way with you! You never let loose. Now’s the time to just live a little!”  God help me. I loved Vivienne, but my s*x life was not up for discussion.  We caught up, and I promised that I would call her when I landed in Chicago, and when I left - she was a mother hen. 
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