Only years of experience in keeping a poker face during business negotiations kept Susanne from grimacing. Yeah. About as nice as the root canal Franzi just mentioned.

“Uncle Norbert has a lot of friends in the Wiehre,” her mother continued. “He could help you find an apartment there. You liked that part of the city when we first took you there, remember?”

“Mama, I was a kid. I liked to pretend I was a princess living in one of the Art Nouveau mansions, waiting for a prince to come along and rescue me.” She huffed at her younger self. “I haven’t needed rescuing or wanted a prince—or any man—since I was six.”

Her sister winked at her. “I hear the women in Freiburg are quite beautiful too.”

“I’m not moving there for a woman either.”

Their mother put down her empty champagne glass, stepped closer, and put both hands on Susanne’s shoulders. From only centimeters away, she sent Susanne one of her famous gazes—the one that had gotten them to eat whatever was on their plates when they’d been kids, even if it was spinach. “He’s family, Susanne.”

No one said her name quite like her mother. Susanne winced. “I know. It’s just…”

“If you refuse to help him, he’ll lose the store. It would break his heart. That store is his pride and joy, and it was your grandfather’s before him.”

Oh hell. Susanne rubbed her face. How could she say no now? “Only until the end of March, then I’m gone. Make sure Uncle Norbert knows that.”

Beaming, her mother squeezed her shoulders and then let go. “I will. Don’t you worry. It’ll all work out great, and I’ll help cover the moving costs and the rent.”

Susanne blew out a breath and tried to stay positive. Yeah, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, it was kind of what she’d done for her old company—travel somewhere, get the job done, and get the hell out of there as soon as the problem was solved.

Easy as pie, right? Or rather easy as Black Forest cake, in this case. It wasn’t as if there was anything in that backwoods city that would make her want to stay.

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Sunniest city in Germany, my ass!” Susanne mumbled as she got off the streetcar and snapped open her umbrella to ward off the lightly falling rain. She hadn’t even seen the sun since she’d arrived in Freiburg on Friday afternoon. The cobblestones of the Kaiser-Joseph-Strasse, Freiburg’s main shopping street, were slick beneath her favorite suede ankle boots, and a dusting of snow covered the forested hill rising up directly behind the Old Town.

A street performer playing the accordion didn’t seem to mind the weather, and neither did the group of tourists being led through the city by a young man in a medieval costume.