INTRODUCTION
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He had a billionaire friend. They grew up together. As children, as classmates and then they graduated from the same high school and then his friend founded companies, made a great fortune, a great success, while he devoted himself to writing and art.
But their friendship lasted.
And so, when he told him that he was looking for a "quite place to think," or a quiet place to work on a book, he immediately received an offer to use a loghouse by a lake. In Sweden. His friend, a billionaire, bought it as a vacation property, but he rarely stayed in it, because he bought many such places around the world for his pastime.
And that's why he was happy that for a few weeks, his good friend would live in this place for him, tidy it up, refresh it, clean it, and do whatever was needed there himself. Simply business, a win-win method. Satisfaction on all sides.
So he warmly offered him a stay in his romantic loghouse by a small lake, in the middle of the remote Swedish wilderness.
He gladly accepted, but he had one small problem. He wanted to hire an assistant who would check his texts, cook, clean, wash, and take care of all the mundane things so that he could concentrate only on his work.
His rich friend solved the problem simply. He employed over thirty thousand people in his companies and so he released one capable assistant who met the given conditions.
One of the main ones was that she should be engaged. Preferably married. Although the suitable candidate was not yet married, she said that she was in a serious relationship.
He looked at her photo with interest. She was 25 and looked nice.
It's good to spend 21 days of your life with someone who isn't a snotty-nosed scoundrel, he thought, and warmly accepted this generous offer.
He didn't have to pay for her services. His billionaire friend had released her from her duties at one of his many companies without batting an eye, so that she could, in all honesty, serve three weeks for extra pay and bonuses, which for the billionaire meant such a paltry expense that he wouldn't even bother to personally sign a payment order.
They had fun talking about the conditions that awaited him there. Their debate was matter-of-fact and warm:
"There's no running water there. Don't wait for a water supply in the wilderness. You'll have to haul water from the lake to the boiler to take a bath. That will heat it up. A bit spartan conditions, but they might encourage some of your inspiration. Don't worry. The lake is clean. The boiler has filters. And you'll have bottled drinking water. Hectoliters in plastic."
"Ok. You know I'm... how to say it? Modest?"
He ignored his remark, completely, and continued: "The electricity is solar, but sometimes the Swedish sun doesn't give it, so it switches to a generator. Our guy will set it up for you and you won't have to worry about it until the end of your stay."
"The pilot?"
"No. The helicopter that brings you will have a pilot from the company, but my guy who winterizing the loghouse will fly with you, show you everything, unload your luggage and then it's up to you, right?"
"Sure, I understand," he agreed.
"Is there anything else you need to know?"
"When are we flying?"
"As soon as possible!"
They both laughed the friendly, raucous laughter that connects souls, already inextricably linked by long-ago, shared experiences.
Then it was easy. Three days after this conversation, he met his assistant at the airport to fly to Sweden and then by helicopter directly into the bosom of nature, to a loghouse, by a clean, untouched, romantic lake.
Arrival and their first night
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The journey dragged on, there were a few delays in the plane transfers and the helicopter flight to the loghouse was also delayed due to the worsening weather. That day was not kind.
They arrived at dusk and checked in in the dark. The helicopter pilot was nervous and created an atmosphere of hurry and hostility, because he wanted to get back as quickly as possible.
The person who was supposed to get the loghouse up and running for the two of them was in a hurry, and did everything in a hurry, but still smiled and made jokes. He was a happy person and contrasted sharply with the nervous helicopter pilot, who walked nervously in front of the cabin and lit one cigarette after another.
Everything happened in a rush and the helicopter took off.
He and she were left alone in the middle of Swedish nature, in a loghouse, by a romantically clean, clear lake, and at that moment they had no idea how exciting 21 days lay ahead of them.
What to do in a new environment that you are just getting to know, but the coming night doesn't give you much time to explore?
They figured it out quickly. He looked around the cabin and decided that he would have a study upstairs, where he would sleep, and she would have to reign and sleep downstairs.
They were both quite tired on the way. They decided to leave the big unpacking and settling in for tomorrow. He emphasized to her, rather coldly, that it would be her business. He wanted to focus on work from the first day.
She took his factual remarks calmly. She knew why she was here.
For her, it wasn't supposed to be a vacation, but work, and he was supposed to work here first and foremost.
She probably wouldn't have much fun here, but she took it as an interesting experience and went with it.
They found some pajamas in their luggage, did their evening hygiene, and he went upstairs.
"Maybe things won't be so bad with him here," she thought.
The beginnings of all stays, when people are just getting to know each other and getting to know each other, are awkward and cold. This cheered her up a little.
She settled down on the couch she was supposed to sleep on every night. It looked like a tasteless mixture of luxury and an attempt to look a little old-fashioned. It was clean, the scuffs on it were artificial, but it creaked.
Whenever she wanted to roll over or sit down on it, a faint or louder creaking sound was heard.
Over time, she got used to it, and during her stay, this sound even became a welcome piece of paradise music for her. But she didn't know that when she lay down on him, tired, with mixed feelings that on the one hand called for an exciting Swedish adventure, on the other hand dampened all her exaggerated expectations. She was here for work, after all.
He fell asleep upstairs, on the floor, without any problems. He was already working on his book in his head. Basically, he was looking forward to starting writing the next day.
What to do in a new environment that you are just getting to know, but the coming night doesn't give you much time to explore?
They figured it out quickly. He looked around the loghouse and decided that he would have a study upstairs, where he would sleep, and she would have to reign supreme and sleep downstairs.
They were both quite tired after the way. They decided to leave the big unpacking and settling in for tomorrow. He emphasized to her, rather coldly, that it would be her business. He wanted to concentrate on work from day one.
She took his matter-of-fact remarks calmly. She knew why she was here.
For her, it wasn't supposed to be a vacation, but work, and he was supposed to work here first and foremost.
She probably wouldn't have much fun here, but she took it as an interesting experience.
They found some pajamas in their luggage, did their evening hygiene, and he went upstairs.
"Maybe things won't be so bad with him here," she thought.
The beginnings of all stays, when people are just getting to know each other, are awkward and cold. It cheered her up a little.
She settled down on the couch she was supposed to sleep on every night. It looked like a tasteless mixture of luxury and an attempt to look a little old-fashioned. It was clean, the scuffs on it were artificial, but it creaked.
Whenever she wanted to roll over or sit down on it, a faint or louder creak could be heard.
Over time, she got used to it, and during the stay, this sound even became a welcome piece of paradise music for her. But she didn't know that when she lay down on it, tired, with mixed feelings that on the one hand called for an exciting Swedish adventure, on the other hand dampened all her exaggerated expectations. She was here for work, after all.
He fell asleep upstairs, on the floor, without any problems. He was already working on his book in his head. He was basically looking forward to starting writing the next day.
First day and second night
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to be continued soon...
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