The year is 1942 and Europe is at the height of World War Two. Mila Goldstein, a Dutch Jew living in occupied Holland, has signed on as an informant for the British Secret Intelligence Service (SIS). However, days before her assignment, a wounded Ge...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I am so, so excited to announce that A Dangerous Game is no longer on hold! So, long overdue as it is, I present to you Chapter 9!! Let me know what ya'll think and please vote and comment if you're enjoying the story. It would mean so much to me!
"General Eichmann has you fetching his coffee now?"
Mila looked up from the stack of papers she had been meticulously balancing a coffee cup on, her eyes locking with Josef's blue ones.
"Well," She shrugged, heaving her typewriter case onto her desk before sitting the cup down, careful not to spill any of its contents. "I am his secretary." Gathering up the papers she had been carrying, she straightened them against the desktop, placing them inside a blue file folder she had pulled from her desk drawer.
"Hey," Josef touched her forearm, speaking softly so that no one around them could hear. "How are you doing?"
"I'm..." She paused, suppressing the dreaded thoughts she had been trying her best to forget. "Getting on." It had been a little over a week since her encounter with the German soldier, and though she and Josef had attended countless meetings together, and had seen each other around the office, neither one had mentioned the events of that night. Mila had, instead, thrown herself into her work, trying, with every fiber of her being, to will the memories to stop.
"Despite everything that happened the other night, I really enjoyed spending the evening with you," He said, giving her arm a light squeeze before releasing it.
"I enjoyed your company as well," She replied, giving him a small smile.
"Seeing as we have yet to go on a proper date, I was wondering if you'd let me take you out this Friday night?" He continued on, propping himself up against her desk, the concerned expression he had warn before, morphing into a playful smirk.
"I thought your taking me out to dinner was just repayment for saving your life?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.
"It was..." He retorted, his smirk widening. "I don't think I'm done returning the favor just yet though."
"Well, if you're that insistent on it," She began, trying to suppress a smile. "You can pick me up at 6:30."
"It's a date," Josef grinned. Mila nodded, giving him another small smile before grabbing her typewriter case and folder. "Mila," Josef called when she had walked a few paces. "I think you're forgetting something," He said, nodding to the coffee cup still sitting on her desk.
"Oh," She blushed, quickly scooping up the cup with her free hand.
"See you in there," He smiled, giving her a quick wink.
"See you," She said, returning his smile.
Mila proceeded down the hall, her heels clicking across the hardwood. Nudging the door of the conference room with her hip, she pushed it open, revealing General Eichmann seated at the head of the vast table, pouring over a mountain of papers, as he was every morning at 8:30 sharp. Without a word, Mila walked across the room and sat the cup down at General Eichmann's seat.
