Amore Mio ➤ Daniel Ricciardo

Det är som det är

1
"Hey," a soft voice spoke.

Elvira looked up from her laptop and faced a woman from Vogue UK who was at Vogue Paris for a work trip. "Hi," Elvira smiled and closed her laptop.

"Are you up for lunch? Everyone is leaving the office, but I have no idea where I am," the woman with light brown hair and green eyes spoke. "Only if you want to." Her face was soft and beautiful.

"Don't worry," Elvira said and gave her a warm smile. "I would love to show you around." She shoved her notebook and pen in her bag before standing up. "How much time have we left until the next meeting?" Her eyes were scanning the woman.

"An hour and a half."

Elvira nodded and left the conference room with her laptop under her arm. "I am Elvira," she said to the woman, they were probably the same age.

"Marith."

Elvira dropped her stuff on her desk in her office. "Nice to meet you. What is your function?"

Marith smiled shyly. "Nice to meet you too. I am an editor for videos and sometimes I check the articles people write on mistakes and other stuff." Elvira nodded and walked towards the exit with Marith on her side. "I must say, I love it how this office is based in the centre of Paris in an old Parisian building. This has so much more characteristic elements. London is nice as well, but everything is modern and doesn't have a story. This building is beautiful."

"It is. I am glad it is. But because we are in the centre of the city, it is always busy around here, and that is not ideal," Elvira smirked.

Marith nodded. "I can imagine that."

The two Vogue employees found a free table at the local cafe and ordered a cup of tea with toast.

"I have a fascinating article. Do you mind if I send it to you by email?" Marith said while scrolling through her phone.

"Of course not. It's e.hanson@vogueparis.com," Elvira told her and placed her phone in her bag. She wasn't a big fan of mobile phones during meals or having company in general. "It's quite sad they couldn't add the overring on the a since it is Hånson. It has something unique on it."

Marith looked up from her phone, and she raised her eyebrows. "Elvira Hånson, that sounds pretty Swedish."

Elvira smirked on the way she said it on the Swedish way, the way she hadn't hear it for years. "I am Swedish. Everything is Swedish on me, my name, my blood, my family. Only the language and country I grew up in not."

"So you can't understand Swedish?"

"Nope." Elvira smiled lightly. "I wished I could, though. I am Swedish at last."

"Oh, that's a shame." Marith nodded slowly and sent the article by email to Elvira. She noticed the questionable expression on Elvira's face. "Not that it's bad or anything. But I am Swedish too! I would have liked it if we could talk in Swedish."

The look on Elvira's face softened, and she smiled. "Ah, I see."

"You are the Swedish stereotype," Marith told her. "Blonde hair, blue eyes, light coloured skin. This is what most people think when they think of Swedish people."

Elvira laughed and placed her leg over her knee. "I get that a lot."

Marith stirred with a spoon in the cup of tea. "Have you ever been to Sweden?"

"Unfortunately not, but it's on my bucket list."

"You are from Australia, right?"

"Yup, Perth," Elvira said proudly. She already liked Marith, asking right questions, and she was interested in her. "My parents left Sweden when I was in the tummy of my mum. They got better jobs in Australia or something, I have no idea, to be honest. It's still a thing what I need to ask. We have never been back. My parents decided to raise us with the English language, so we have never learned Swedish." Marith nodded. "I believe my parents grew up around Stockholm. But what is your story?" Elvira straightened her back and wrapped her hands around her cup of tea.