ELENA FLOPPED ONTO the bed in the apartment. “Stefan, Kristo, wow. How many other sexy exes are you hiding?”
“I never actually dated Kristo, but according to tabloids, there are a whole lot more,” Penelope said, checking the street below. She was growing obsessive about her privacy. However, the street seemed clear. She turned to Elena. “Wish I knew half of them.”
Raising herself on her elbows, Elena asked, “If you had to choose, which one would you take? I’ll take the other one.”
Penelope slipped off her shoes, smirking at her friend. “Neither. Stefan was married to a friend of mine, and Kristo is obsessive. Didn’t you notice?” She’d told Elena about Stefan and Monica at lunch.
Elena rolled over on the bright blue-and-white Marimekko floral bedspread. “You still call Monica a friend? She broke the girl code in the worst way possible.”
Penelope pulled a silk nightie from a drawer. “He made his choice.”
“She lied,” Elena replied, resting her chin in her hands and glaring. “I would’ve been absolutely devo.”
Penelope laughed at Elena’s down-under slang. “I was devastated.” Penelope recalled how angry, hurt, and anguished she’d been. “I was furious with Stefan, but I knew Monica and had seen her play games. Underneath it all, she was really insecure. Her family was never supportive of her dreams—quite the opposite. Her family split when she was a baby, her mother had a prescription drug habit, and her dad disappeared. She was bullied at school because of her height.”
Elena shook her head. “None of that is an excuse for her behavior. She violated a sacred friendship vow: Thou shalt not steal the other’s boyfriend.”
“It takes two, you know.” Penelope punched a pillow. “I blame Stefan just as much.” She picked up a hairbrush from the vanity and then perched on the bed. “Still, I couldn’t believe she’d done that to me, her closest friend. When that happened, I lost two of my closest relationships at once.”
Elena cradled her chin in her hand. “That sucked. Ever talk to her?”
“I might have a soft heart, but I’m not stupid.” Penelope shook out her hair, thinking as she brushed it. When she’d seen Monica at the event in New York, she’d had a strange feeling about her. She couldn’t define it, but Monica had avoided eye contact, as though she were hiding something, and wiggled her leg nervously. It was more like Monica to grin and gloat.
Penelope’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at the text. “My agent is trying to fill the vacancies on my schedule. Looks like I have a cover shoot for a small beauty magazine that’s distributed in Scandinavia.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
Penelope shrugged. “It’s always good to have work.” This gig was a big step down for her, so she knew her agent was hustling to find anything for her. She might be on top, but she wasn’t a prima donna. She tapped her reply, accepting the shoot.
The next morning dawned with the sun peeking through the shuttered windows. Penelope flung them open to clear azure skies.
“It’s a gorgeous day to be on the water,” Penelope called out to Elena. She chose a turquoise Pucci print bikini with a cover-up, topping off her ensemble with a broad-brimmed straw hat and white Tom Ford sunglasses.
“Great sunnies,” Elena said, stepping from the shower.
Penelope grinned. “Ta,” she said, thanking Elena. She loved her friend’s Australian vernacular and how she shortened a lot of words. Being around her so often, she’d picked up quite a few things.
Elena smiled and pulled out a sleek black Trina Turk swimsuit with a sheer black cover-up and bronze-colored sandals. She added gold earrings she’d designed and wound her hair into a loose bun. “What do you think?”
“Very chic.”
After bathing and dressing, Penelope peered out over the window box filled with red gardenias. “Kristo’s pulling up.” He was driving a candy red Bentley Continental Supersports convertible. When he glanced up, she waved to signal him. “We’ll be right down,” she called out. He looked so happy to see them that she felt bad for thinking about how geeky he could be.
Elena peered around her. “Wow, what a ride. That’ll attract some attention.”
“Kristo likes expensive toys and churns through them with surprising speed. And you look gorgeous today, so be careful around that one.”
Elena winked at her. “My aunt always said a woman could fall in love with a wealthy man as easily as a poor one.”
“Just be sure to look beneath the fancy exterior,” Penelope said, poking her in the ribs.
“Oh, champers, ta,” Elena said, accepting a glass of champagne from a server.
“What a beautiful vessel.” Penelope ran her hand along a sleek railing aboard the glittering white yacht.
Kristo beamed. “She’s brand new. A two-hundred-thirteen feet Manta Explorer. Designed by the Dutch, built in Italy. A real jewel.” His eyes gleaned, beholding the thrill of his acquisition.
Penelope recognized his expression though, and knew that when the buzz of newness wore off, he’d be on to his next conquest. She thought back to her childhood, when summers meant accompanying her father and uncle on fishing vessels that lacked luxury but offered a young girl all the excitement of high-seas adventure. She missed those days. Why was it she hadn’t appreciated those simple times when she’d had them?
They had lunch outside as they cruised. Afterward, Kristo picked up a tablet and flicked it on. “You’ve got to see my latest project.” The tablet lit up and he tapped the screen. “Look at this. It’s going to be the highest-selling game of all time.”
Fascinated, Penelope looked on. She hadn’t known he was interested in gaming, but he had started as a software engineer. He’d once been super geeky, but after his company went public, he’d hired a trainer and a stylist and morphed into a new version designed to attract women, though there was still something odd about him.
Penelope squinted. “Wait a minute. That looks like me.” An unsettling feeling crept up her neck.
Kristo grinned. “Gamers can upload photos and turn their players into miniature versions of whoever they like. Now anyone can be a master of the universe.”
“That’s kind of creepy,” Elena said, watching a mini-version of a scantily-clad Penelope warrior battling a dragon.
“Come on,” Kristo said. “Why should only the wealthy have all the fun?” He leaned toward them conspiratorially. “Look, a small number of powerful people control the entire world. This way, gamers can control the world they create with whatever characters they want, just like the big boys. Great technology, right?”
“What do you mean, a small number of people?” Penelope asked.
“Don’t be so naïve,” Kristo said, ticking off his fingers. “Software, media, transportation, food. A few world leaders and their friends run the show.”
Penelope and Elena exchanged a glance. “Are you one of those friends?” Penelope asked.
A smug look crossed Kristo’s face. He tilted his chair back and crossed his arms, his eyes glittering with delight. “What do you think?”
Penelope was quickly growing tired of this game. “Now you’re just showing off.”
“Isn’t that what you do?” He laughed. “With enough connections and control of the media, anyone can be made—or broken. Common people don’t even know they’re being played.” Kristo stood. “Excuse me. I have to speak to the captain. Look around if you’d like. There’s a Jacuzzi on the next deck.” He hesitated. “But don’t go too far. I have remodeling in progress on a lower deck.” He strode from the deck and disappeared below.
Elena watched him go. “Pretty sure of himself. And that’s just bizarre,” she added, nodding toward the tablet he’d left behind.
“He might be more handsome on the outside now, but he’s gotten even weirder on the inside.” Penelope tapped the screen. “Master’s Revenge is the name of the game.” She twisted her mouth to one side.
Elena glanced around conspiratorially. “Let’s have a look around while he’s gone.”
The two women strolled across the wide decks and then made their way inside.
“This is a floating man cave,” Elena said as they explored. “Big screens, casino gaming tables, bars on every level.” She opened another door. “He even has a costume room.”
Penelope looked over her shoulder at a room that had two makeup stations and racks of costumes. “Must have Halloween or masquerade parties on board.”
“Or something...” Elena lifted an eyebrow.
They walked on and Elena came to an abrupt halt in front of a painting depicting a raging antihero with a voluptuous female victim cowering on the ground. “Ew. That’s really disturbing. How can we get off this floating macho museum?”
Penelope paused outside an open door. Several large computer screens glowed in the dimly lit room. “Looks like his office.” She started to turn around when something caught her eye. An image of her in New York floated on one screen, drawing her into the room.
She stepped inside.
A photograph of her from the New York event was on a tabloid website. A shiver coursed through her.
Elena followed her gaze. “He must really like you. Or he’s stalking you.”
The thought crossed her mind, but more likely he was concerned about her. Beneath the screen was a folder. Penelope took another step. Clipped to the top was a printed article with her photo. She reached out for it.
“The Jacuzzi isn’t in here.”
Penelope and Elena whirled around to face Kristo, who stood in the passageway behind them. He had a tight smile on his face.
“I just saw my photo as we were passing by.”
Kristo held his arm out and motioned for them to come with him.
“Interesting art,” Elena said, motioning toward the offensive painting as she stepped out.
“Don’t like it?” Kristo frowned as he studied the artwork. “The designer chose it.”
“It’s misogynistic,” Penelope said. “It depicts hatred and unnatural power over women.”
“I can see how you’d find it offensive.” Kristo held out his hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll redecorate.” His eyes glittered. “Or you can.”
“Find a style you like.” Penelope ignored his proffered hand and stepped from the room. After a moment, Elena hurried behind them.
As they walked through the luxurious vessel, Kristo relaxed and tucked his arm through Penelope’s. “Until that nasty business in New York blows over, you could stay on board as long as you want. And I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. No one can touch you here.”
No one except him. Penelope glanced at his hand. From the way he squeezed her arm as he spoke, he was undoubtedly interested in more than her protection. “That’s a kind offer, but I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t think you can. I saw photos of your home in the Hollywood Hills. You shouldn’t have to deal with that mess. All those media trucks waiting for you to step outside your home. And a shooter on the loose. Why deal with that when I have the best security money can buy?”
Penelope shook her head. She didn’t want to trade her protection for a pair of velvet handcuffs…and who knew what else.