I will never let you go - Marco Reus

16. Why certain Marco Reus knows exactly what you like to eat?

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M.

Marco POV

For the last five minutes I was talking with Erik not paying attention to the others at the table. Because Marta was sitting there chatting with Mario and I really was not feeling comfortable. But maybe I should get used to it because she keeps appearing everywhere all the time. Maybe not all the time, because it was only a second time that I saw her in Dortmund in person, but it was always too much.

I heard the beep and I looked in her direction. She became pale looking at the screen and for a moment my eyes laid on her lips that she bit with horror. I have felt strange tingling in my loins, but it ended when she jumped up swearing and putting on her jacket.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I am really sorry guys, but I have an urgent emergency and I have to go. It was very nice to meet you. – she said.  – Guys order me something please for a takeway, we see each other in the office – she looked at her coworkers and went into direction of the door. When she was passing next to me I heard her speaking on the phone.

Could you please explain to me what means that the TV spot is fucking ruined? – she hissed to the phone, and I smirked. She still was swearing in a funny way.

I was lost in my thoughts when I heard voices from the other side of the table.

But what should we order for her? I have no idea what she eats. – said the girl puzzled. I think Gina was her name. – Does she eats meet or is allergic to anything? I hate that.

Just take whole wheat spaghetti al Pomodoro with additional olives and capers. No onion, she hates that. – I said annoyed and started to scroll through Facebook.

I felt Auba kicking my under the table and I raised my head to look at him.

I thought you didn't know each other. That what she said in the club – he whispered.

Exactly, that is what she said bro, not me – I replied.

Marta POV

I was extremely pissed. So pissed that I nearly threw a phone at the wall when I finally finished the tenth conference call with my client. Forunately I managed to take the crisis under control, but few people with my agency will have serious talks with me in a while. And I hated that because I really liked them and I hated playing the role of the sergeant.

I sat on my desk when Paul entered my office hesitantly.

I saw through the window that you finished talking – he pointed at the glass that was separating my office from the big open space that was used as a chill out room. – I brought you food. – he gave me a package.

Oh! I totally forgot – In fact I also totally forgot with whom we were supposed to have lunch today before my phone rang – Thank you!

It is probably cold, but you can reheat it in the microwave – he added and I smiled opening the box.

Great! My favorite! Thank you Paul! – I said happily looking at the delicious dish.

Hmm..no problem. But it is not me whom you should thank. By the way, could you please tell me why certain Marco Reus knows exactly what you like to eat? And knows that you hate onion? – he asked me raising his eyebrows expectantly.

I nearly dropped the box on the floor. He remembered.