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The Berliner Buchemesse, was the Frankfurters Buchemesse mini-me. Authors from all around the world came to the book fair.

Unlike its big sister fair, which lasted five days with only the three last days opened to the public, the Berliner fair lasted three days and had the two first days dedicated to the public.

Monday was present, not as a guest but as a helper. Charles decided to give the woman a lesson of humility. Though a modern man, he was attached to certain principles. The punishment was to Mondays' liking; she almost saw it as a free vacation, time off from her writers' block and Kenneth.

It was a unique opportunity for her to attend a fair where the privileged genres were crimes, thrillers novels, self-help, and miscellaneous.

Each country has its book genre niches, and Germany was one where thrillers sold exceptionally well. The public appreciated serious themes and complex plots. Also, the format that sold the most was paperbackㅡthe German readers didn't yet have the e-book reading reflexes. The market was a place of great opportunities. Romance and love stories were far behind in the German book market sales, just as Mondays' novels demonstrated by navigating in deep space, somewhere at the end of the top one hundred. A hundred and one or a hundred and two in the ranking, the woman knew she had more chance of seeing a zombie attack than sitting as an exhibitor at a German book fair.

"I'm sorry, Monday; I told Charles there was no need for you to come. This type of event is an interns' call."

"No worries, Dagmar. I'm happy to assist and support you. Ben came to help for mine; I don't see anything degrading about doing this."

Dagmar Pedersen Grime was their publishing house thriller maestro and one of the rare to have had a German and Danish adaptation of two of her books into series.

The thriller authoress always had her nose in newspapers such as detective or the miscellaneous news items column. Her sense of deduction was phenomenal. She spent a lot of time in open to public trials in courtrooms to hear how lawyers and judges played the field.

Her books were considered realistic with the most accurate police vocabulary, but having an inspector as a fiancee helped. The woman had manna of facts at home.

Dagmars' books were for the thinkers more than simple whodunits. The woman had one's mind running a marathon from start to finish. Pageturners, readers, told they sometimes forgot to eat or go to the toilets.

DPG books were health hazardous. A woman in Denmark reportedly burnt her kitchen by forgetting the food on the stove. The rumors added spice to the legend, and the hype around her books grew.

Dagmars' last book kept winning prizes. Many reviews placed her book as the favorite for the Buchmesse Bär, the coveted bear statue, and its forty thousand euros grande prize. It was an honor for Monday to assist her.

Monday didn't speak German, but luckily for her, everything was in English. Also, most Germans spoke the language well.

The woman looked forward to the few days without stress. Nothing could rain on her parade, or could it?

Kenneth had gone about his business attempting not to think of Monday during the weeks that followed his departure from Paris. He already reflected enough and didn't need to add cerebral activities that assured heavy migraines.

After three weeks where he worked non-stop, the man boarded for another passionate event. The Berliner Buchemesse was known for its excellent range of self-help books. Kenneth was the genre's trending king, and the fair welcomed him with open arms.

Of course, Monday didn't think to look at the headliners. The woman advised visitors, while Dagmar met and greeted in English, German, Danish, and French.

Monday was impressed by the professional manner Dagmar greeted and dealt with questions concerning her work. Her fans were also more disciplined and didn't spend more than three minutes with her.

Kenneth came with his team, Meredith, Rob, and four other people to help in his booth that resembled a mini book store. The man didn't only come to promote his books but also those of his publishing house.

When one sort for self-help, they desired a life change most of the time. Hence, Kenneth's authors created lifestyle content: healthy eating, hobby books, and how to do. One left the man's booth with a complete package of life-improving books. The organizers of the Buchemesse decided to place his booth at the end of the circuit with nothing around it to allow the influence of visitors not to be cramped. Despite their efforts and the dispositif, the booth found itself jam-packed with avid visitors. Even Monday, who passed in front a couple of times, had no idea who held the spot with all the people around.

"Guten tag, Ich hoffe, es geht dir heute gut [hello, I hope you are well today]. Eh, my German is very weak, so I'm going to pick this up in English. Wow, this fair has grown so fast. I remember my first time here. There were sixty exhibitors, and I was at my debut. Today we're more than a hundred, and I'm here talking to you. So it's all about growth. We strive to grow and improve, mentally and psychically," Kenneth delivered with a smile. Like at the BookInc, Kenneth had talks scheduled.

 Monday didn't notice how the traffic in the aisles diminished, nor did she realize the man was there. However, someone saw her, and she had the firm attention to making sure her boss and the author didn't meet.

"Rob, we have to do something. We can't let Kenneth see her."

"Pff, what do you want to do, Meredith? Lock them in separate toilets."

"Hahaha, it isn't funny, Rob," Meredith said and slicked her hair back while looking at Dagmars' booth from afar. "Kenneth is back to himself, and I want him to stay that way. I don't wish to see him with his head in the clouds again."

"Wow, you sound like those mean girls romance authors insert for spice and love triangles."

Meredith lowered her gaze, "there's no love triangle."

"You're right; it's a straight line with your blind love running to him and his feelings running to Day Yeni. It's more of a love line, and believe me or not, Kenneth hasn't forgotten her. He has just thrown her at the back-of-house of his mind so he can do mandatory tasks like this book fair."

"I hate you, Rob."

"The truth hurts, Meredith. I've told you time and time again, forget Kenneth. There are very stable eligible men out there. You know as well as I do that Kenneth is a complicated man. You're not cut out for a guy like him. You haven't lived or loved enough to have the maturity to deal with him."

"Oh yeah, then who is fit for him in your opinion?"

Rob shook his head in disapproval and crossed his arms, "someone who doesn't worship him. When you women worship a man, you put yourself in danger because you tacitly accept our behavior and get mistreated. The best match is a woman who sees a man as he is, hence, a pair of bullocks, clumsy as fuck. She'll put the man at his place when needed."

Rob spoke knowingly. Kenneth was a modern Mr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde. The speaker could be sweet one moment and scorch with anger the next. One had to know how to caress his coat in the right direction. Rob didn't know Monday, but he assumed she didn't grovel at Kenneth's feet, and it attained the control freaks ego.

"So you think you're a love guru now, Rob?"

"Nope, but I fuck around enough to know. Men don't like carpets or doormats, but a cold marble floor sending shockwaves up our spines before heating up."

Meredith huffed and walked away. The woman was pretty but too immature, in Rob's opinion, for Kenneth even to consider her.

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