Susanne forced a smile. “No, this is fine.” She took a seat at the small table and reached for the menu to discourage further questions.

Anja followed suit.

They ordered, and within a few minutes, the waitress brought their hot beverages—black coffee for Susanne and a chococcino for Anja—and two pieces of cake to the table.

Susanne’s eyes widened as the waitress slid the plate with the Black Forest cake in front of her. “Oh my God. That thing is huge.”

“Mm-hmm.” Anja was already digging into her cheesecake, making little sounds that were a bit too erotic for Susanne’s comfort.

“No Black Forest cake for you?” Susanne asked to distract herself.

Anja shook her head, looked left and right, and leaned across the table as if about to reveal a national secret. “Don’t tell anyone, or I’ll be sent into exile, but I don’t like Black Forest cake.”

Susanne clutched her chest in a dramatic gesture. “That’s like being from Berlin and not liking Currywurst!”

“What can I say? It’s too rich for me. I’m a woman of simple taste.”

“No glitter, hmm?”

“Not in my cake.”

Susanne slid a forkful of Black Forest cake into her mouth. The combination of whipped cream, dark chocolate, and liqueur-soaked cherries exploded on her taste buds. It was delicious but maybe not the best choice for a cake to be eaten during work hours. “Oh wow. I think they used about a liter of cherry liqueur. You might have to carry me back.”

They finished their cake, then pushed their cups to the side so Susanne could place the laptop on the table.

Instantly, the glow that had settled on Anja’s face while she had devoured her cheesecake faded. “You mentioned that a blog and a newsletter would be the most important things. But honestly, if I get things like that in my in-box, I just delete them. All this promo stuff just feels like…like being on a date with a really sleazy person.”

The comparison made Susanne smile. “Then we’ll have to make sure we’re not that sleazy date.”

“How?” Anja gathered some cheesecake crumbs on her fingertip and then licked them off.

The sight of it derailed Susanne’s answer for a moment. She took a long sip of coffee to clear her head. “How do you make sure the person you’re going out with wants a second date?”

Anja gave a wry smile. “I think that analogy is not going to help us. I haven’t dated much in the past few years.”

Susanne wanted to ask why. Was it because relationships were like glitter for Anja—nice to have but not really necessary? That was kind of how Susanne viewed relationships. Work had always been her number one priority. Was it the same for Anja? She shouldn’t ask; she really shouldn’t.