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...
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I'm not gonna lie guys, I've had this chapter floating around in my brain ever since I dreamed up these characters and this story! I'm so excited to finally be able to put it down in writing! Let me know what you guys think ... I love reading your comments!
Climbing the front steps of the War Office, Mila pushed through the double doors, the soft strum of jazz filling her ears immediately. Turning opposite of where she typically reported to work, she walked down the hall towards the large banquet hall stationed in the west wing. Smoothing down the velvet material of her emerald green dress, she inhaled sharply, regretting the decision she had made to wear such a formfitting dress - Why was she so nervous? Adjusting one of the pins that held her hair back away from her face, she tucked a curl behind her ear and turned the corner, walking through the arched entryway of the banquet hall.
Dozens of people filled the room, some gliding across the dance floor while others grouped together chatting, sipping on champagne. Mila glanced around, searching the crowd for Josef. They had agreed to meet at the party since she had needed to go home to get ready, and Josef had needed to finish up on some paperwork. She was wishing they had arrived together now. She hated feeling so out of place.
"So where's this friend of yours?" A voice called behind her, immediately sending a knot of dread coursing through Mila's stomach.
"He's here somewhere I'm sure," She replied casually, keeping her eyes on the crowd instead of Lieutenant Hoffman, who was standing at her side now.
"Well while you wait for him, how about that dance?" He began, stepping in front of her, impeding her view of the room.
"Oh, I'm not much of a dancer," She waved him off, forcing a smile.
"I'll teach you," He insisted, taking her hand before she could object. "Oh come on, its one dance," He added at the hesitant expression on her face. Deciding it wasn't worth the fight, she allowed Lieutenant Hoffman to pull her to the dance floor.
"You look beautiful tonight," He commented, his eyes trailing down her frame. "That dress..."
"Thank you," She cut him off, giving him a stiff smile.
"You still haven't answered my question you know," He began coolly, placing his hands against her waist as they began to sway to the music.
"Question?" She furrowed her brows, placing her hands stiffly on his shoulders.
"When you're going to let me take you out to dinner," He smirked.
"Oh," She stammered, grasping for an answer that would get him off her back but wouldn't divulge too much information about her's and Josef's relationship. "I'm afraid I'm ... Seeing someone."
