Chapter 2
"Is it truely necessary to wear such tight clothing, schatzi?" Josef asked. His eyes stern as he continued to read the newsletter with his leg across his knees.
Letting out a deep breath, Anneliese knew her father meant well, however his commentary had become tedious. He had been making the same comments on her clothing since her very first day at her job, every day, for the past two years. And he was always prepared to remind her of the immodesty of her clothing. As he was always already up - well and truly awake before the sun illuminated the American flags on everyone's porches, waiting for her to leave as he read the morning paper in his favourite leather sofa. So a morning tradition ensued, every morning Anneliese ignored his comments as she enjoyed her cup of morning tea before she left for work, and he said the exact same phrase each time before she left..
Stirring the teaspoon around in her teacup, Anneliese flickered through a journal her father had purchased the week earlier. She knew her father had already read it numerous times over, with the corners of the pages crinkles as she begun reading the the hypothesis of the human code... a code no one understood. To her, this was an interesting read - her father thought the concept was utterly stupid.
Yet, Anneliese took the journal willingly, knowing it was her only opportunity to pursue her interests in science. As her current workplace offered no place for a woman to be innovative in the scientific community, regardless of its growing reputation in the technology industry. Not the ideal job, but it paid for everything Anneliese desired - to an extent.
"Morning, Papa," Anneliese responded as she took a sip from her tea, "Meeting up with Mr Webber again?"
He nodded his head, but his eyes remained on the paper, specifically on the propaganda against the German community. "Mr Webber believes... it would be ideal for me to arrange a suitable partner for you," His voice monotoned, "Saying it's already bad enough that you're German and too educated, but being twenty-three with no prospect of marriage and children is far too scandalous."
Anneliese watched her father's lip curl into a grin as she finished her cup of tea, gently leaving it in the sink to wash later. Her eyes drifted away from her father to the window above the sink, watching as her neighbourhood was awaken by the yells of 'goodbye!' and kisses to spouses. Alerting Anneliese that it was nearly time for her to leave and to catch the bus into work.
With her heels sounding a soft clink-clink-clink across the wooden flooring, she made her way towards her father. His eyes didn't move an inch, remaining on the newspaper in front of him. Crouching down to give him a kiss on his forehead, whispering, "see you for dinner papa."
Stretching her legs, Anneliese slowly made her way to the kitchen bench where her black work bag rested, already filled to the brim with files of documents.
"I told Mr Webber that my daughter has plenty of wealthy bachelor's begging for her hand in marriage, specifically high political leaders in Germany," Her father mumbled cruelly as she unlocked the house with her keys. She paused to stare at him as he grimaced. "Supposably, I can only make such jokes in private, and that the local bar isn't quite the appropriate location... something about his reputation of being the stereotypical American or somthing."
Anneliese grew a grin as she shook her head humorously as she opened the front door. Calling out to him, the question falling from her lips before she could stop it, "Are you sure there are any suitors begging for my hand in Germany?", Anneliese asked teasingly, "I thought you made sure there wouldn't be an opportunity?"
Her father finally pulled his gaze away from the newspaper and stared up at her blankly. His voice dry, "When you were about ten years old, I had them come through daily... just because of who me and your-"
He paused as his eyes drifted down and Anneliese's heart strings felt violated. Sorrow had eaten the two quickly and efficiently, but her father was picture perfect in his display. Grief wasn't so much an emotion, but a man named Josef Lorenz. His eyes had grown sunken, wrinkles forming across his forehead and his lips always a bloody red from his habit of biting his lips. This was the cost demanded of them for their freedom.
"What about now?" Anneliese asked lightly, knowing it wasn't best to leave her father to dwell in his own thoughts alone, "Would they really want to marry the daughter of a traitor, a women with such a profoundly impressive education," she pegged, watching as his eyes lifted up quickly, "I'm sure they'd love me, especially since I earn much more than they could ever imagine. I doubt being the daughter of a socialite means anything now."
Her father let out a hearty laugh, "My, my, my... my little birdy, aren't you... your mother's daughter," A glimmer of pride filled Anneliese's heart as she bid her father a final goodbye and locked the door behind her.
Leaving the front porch, she begun walking down the cement pathway towards the main road. All the houses identical houses to her own: a driveway with a front garden to the left, a letter box with an American flag attached to the right of the drive way, and a small pathway aside the letterbox that trialed all the way towards the entrance of the house. They were town houses, brick and cement homes with two floors and the front of them were either a strange cream wood or the darkest red brick. The street she lived on screamed upper middle class, rich enough to afford a front porch and garden, but not rich enough to own a new car.
It was definitely a downgrade from her childhood home. She missed the Daphne's in her garden.
Arriving to the bus stop, she waited patiently before it arrived. Every morning she would catch the same bus into the heart of the city, and the trip was long enough for Anneliese to read an act from a play. Today, she comfortably took her seat and picked up her latest play, A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen, translated into German.
As the trip progressed, the busier the bus became. To the point where Anneliese decided to put her book away, in fear that one of the loud chatting men would spill their coffee all over her beloved book. It was awfully hard to purchase interesting plays, let alone plays translated in her German, considering the taboo it was to even identify as such. Especially during times like these.
The bus finally stopped at her station, alerting all the men in suits to leave the shuttle, and so did Anneliese. Once she was off the bus, she found one of her co-workers, Alexander Gray, waiting for her, as usual, with two cups of coffee in his hand.
"Morning Ana," He said as he passed her a cup of coffee. "Ready for work?", He asked with his devilish smile.
Grinning, Anneliese took the coffee cup from Alexander Gray as they begun the walk towards their work complex. He always drew a crowd every time, with many of the bystanders curious about why exactly he worked. Anneliese knew the answer as if it was the back of her hand: To piss off his father. Alexander Grey was the youngest of four sons to New Yorks top bankers, and he certainly looked the part. Decked out in the type of suits which was far more impressive than the suits her boss wears to his conference meetings, he was the American dream. Born wealthy, given all the opportunities he desired and played with diamonds as if it was dirt.
He was a cruel type of beautiful, a sinking reminder of his aristocratic roots. Tall, blonde and a jawline sharper than a knife, Anneliese could understand why woman and men threw themselves at Alexander. Especially when he had made it his signature look being decked out in a monotone suit, all black every day of the week.
"Are we ever?" Anneliese retorted.
The two walked down the busy streets of the heart of New York city side by side, exchanging in conversations until they arrived at their destination. The building was made from what seems to be only out of cement with a weird eerie futuristic nature to its appearance. Compared to the surrounding brick buildings, it was a standout location. Especially the massively over-the-top blue painted STARK above the entrance, where security stood. Twenty-Four Seven.
Alexander walked through the entrance easily, but as always, every Monday she was stopped by the same security guard that demanded to see her ID. Always coming prepared, Anneliese used her only available hand to show her ID and other documentation to prove her identity. It should've been insultive and it should have hurt, but Anneliese was far too used to it. Two years working for Stark Industrials did that to a woman like herself. Once the security guard was happy and approved of the identify check, he allowed Anneliese in to join Alexander, who was waiting in his usual place against a pillar with a smirk painted across his face.
"Always making us late," He joked as he directed Anneliese to the elevator. The work week always begun with a team meeting on the fifth floor.
"What do you think he has planned for us?" Alexander asked, "I swear if I have to work overtime on Friday, I might just bring in my father's lawyers."
Letting out a small laugh, Anneliese responded, "As if you work overtime", she muttered. A small, mhm, from Alexander quickly caused Anneliese to cover her insult.
"May as well hand in your two weeks and pocket the money..." She begun, thinking of the cover up as she spoke, "As we all know he will be begging on his knees to have you back."
Alexander raised an eyebrow, knowing very well what she had said before. Then the elevator opened on the second floor, where the man in question entered the lift. Dressed poorly as always, grease covering his face, his tie not done up and his suit all crinkled... was their boss, Howard Stark.
"Who's begging on their knees?" He asked with a grin, "Oh, I do hope its Charlotte from reception."
Alexander's booming laughter filled the elevator as Anneliese quickly stole the black handkerchief from Alexander's breast pocket and wiped off the grease from Howard's cheeks. And just as quickly, she fixed up his tie and hair. It was the same thing every Monday, and every Monday Howard would mutter under his breath that Anneliese didn't need to make him look presentable if he was the CEO of the company.
"Mate, I'm pretty sure if you gave Charlotte an opportunity to do so, she would do more than beg on her knees", Alexander responded once the doors opened to the fifth floor.
Howard's eyes lit up, "You think?"
"No," Anneliese responded sharply, a small smile creeping onto her face, "Women like that prefers old money, not new money... she would be more interested in Alexander."
Alexander's laughter filled not only the elevator they were leaving, but the busy corridor, causing many of the businessmen and their female secretaries to stare. A common occurrence, but no less strange for the lower ranked individuals. And as they walked towards the conference room, more and more business men joined their group, Howard now busy talking with Mr John McKinnons' secretary. Leaving Alexander to inform anyone who was willing to listen about his weekend trip to Los Angeles... and specifically about the type of women he had met with.
Mr Theodore Edwards, the Automobile Manager, was the first to enter the room, and took it upon himself to remind Anneliese that she still didn't have a ring around his finger... and he was more than willing to buy one for her. Unfortunately, Anneliese wasn't interested in men who were old enough to be her father and a bad taste in engagement rings (you'd think after four failed engagement, the man would know how to buy a nice ring).
Everyone took their seats in rank order, with Howard at the top of the table, with Alexander and and Anneliese to his right, and John McKinnons, Martian Lang, and Theodore Edwards to his left. Next to Anneliese was Harold Lockes and Rupert Green, all their secretaries waiting outside or returned to their offices.
Monday was always the day with all the meetings, as Howard had made it very clear that he was not interested in them in the slightest and rather have them all together then ruin his entire week. The meeting would always begin with Harold Lockes (the financial adviser) and Rupert Green (Investment manager - or whatever new title he would give himself each week), as usual, they had excellent news as Starks was becoming a formidable force in all things technology, wealth and futuristic advancements.
Followed by Theodore Edwards, who would address what the automobile department has achieved and its goal for the week, and than Martian Lang would remind them about the outstanding work his customer service team has performed as sales were higher than ever before. And it wasn't a Monday if John McKinnons didn't over emphasis how well all the other departments (clothing, toys, and every other department Howard created because he was bored) had an increase in profits.
The meeting up until now, was to allow the ego of the top men to deflate until the Tuesday lunch time meeting.
"And Ms Lorenz, how is the public responding to the new furniture line?"
Anneliese's job was interesting, she was the press secretary, and was in charge of all press conferences. It was a dehumanising job, as she was very much aware that she was only in charge of this... because of her appearance, and potential her proficiency in ensuring that the press remained advantageous and not disastrous. If Howard and Alexander was to disappear, she was the face of Starks Industrials.
"The New York Press has nothing but compliments for the line," she begun, grabbing the article from her bag and resting it onto the table, "However, there has been a increase demand for the furniture to be more accessible... as it seems to be too difficult for an average American family to move a 145 pound couch without the use of transportation trucks."
Glancing away her paper, she flickered her eyes to meet Howard's directly, "That's the only public outcry towards the company, however... there is plenty against the owner of the company and his second in command."
A chuckle filled the room as Howard's smile beamed, matching Alexander's signature smirk, "It would be wise for you two, to stop your..." Anneliese paused for a second to choose her words carefully, before continuing, "sexual conquest, especially in the public eye."
Alexander let out a massive laugh, again, for the third time that morning.
"For you, dear Anneliese, I'll do anything", Alexander joked, as the room once again, filled with chuckles.
Maintaining eye contact with Howard, he spoke, "How badly will this ruin the company's reputation?" he asked, his voice dripping with authority. The laughter disappeared and the money hungry business men reappeared to play.
The maths was simple to Anneliese, "Considering no new announcements have been made in the past three weeks, the rating of the company has decreased by 1.5%."
Yelling filled the room, as insults were thrown at each other on who was to be blamed. The main victim: Anneliese. As they believed her evidence was inadequate when it meant the company was suffering, but a certain fact when it supported a booming business. Regardless, most of them believed that gossip and scandal did nothing for a company... and Anneliese knew they were severally wrong.
"ENOUGH," Howard demanded loudly, "With the yelling," He finished quieter.
There was a brief pause before Anneliese spoke again, "The public wants Stark Industries to start supporting the war cause." Her voice grew quieter, knowing the men were looking at her hungrily, "America joined the war last December, but the public wants Stark Industrials to supply weaponry, believing that we've haven't won so far because of it."
The room stayed quiet until Theodore Edwards spoke, a plump forty year old man with a smoking addiction and a bad cough spoke, "Why should be trust that intel?" He questioned, "You're German after all."
The room muttered in agreement.
Ignoring the insult, Anneliese remained as professional as possible and continued to speak directly to Howard, "The SSR has been trying to contact us for about a month week. I've decline their demands due to the decision you made three months ago when the Government requested weaponry assistance without any financial assistance, which was disastrous to our profits. However, they seem persistent to have your assistance."
Howard nodded his head, "Anneliese, please contact them to inform that I will only allow a meeting for tomorrow morning," He begun, "Alex, you'll accompany Anneliese as my representative. Give you a chance to actually do your job as President of the company. Don't fuck this up, yeah?"
"Can't make any promises," Alexander smirked back.
The meeting finished with a wave of Howards hands. The business men all leaving the room with only Howard, Anneliese and Alex remaining.
All seriousness left Howard's face as he shared a grin with Alexander. Anneliese suddenly wished she had left the room as well.
"So, you have been reading about my so called sexual conquest?", he started, "Did it say anything about how good my female company felt afterwards?"
Anneliese wrinkled her face in disgust, "That's so crud-"
"-Getting male company as well, Stark?" Alexander interrupted, a cocky grin appearing on his face "Unlike society, I won't hate you if you're interested in-"
Howard's face soured, "Get the fuck out, Gray," and Alexander did exactly that. Exiting the meeting room and taking Howard's coffee cup with him, leaving Anneliese alone with Howard.
The silence was awkward, but nothing worse than what Anneliese had dealt with before. Sitting in the silence, Anneliese decided to collect her papers neatly from the wooden table and place them back into her bag. As she pushed herself out of the chair to leave, Howard let out of soft ahem, causing her eyes to meet his hazel-gold ones.
Standing, with her bag resting on her forearm, she stared at him questionably, "Do you need something, Howard?"
He shook his head, "I'll see you at noon for the next meeting", and he turned around to face the large window, capturing the busy morning of New York; it was chaos and creation, the foundation of any of Howard Starks creations.