“ABSOLUTELY NOT.” Stefan crossed his arms.
“I promised Elena I would take her to Tivoli Gardens,” Penelope said. “I want to show her the places I loved as a child.”
Where she’d always felt safe and happy, she thought, but didn’t say it. They had only been back at the flat for half an hour, and already she was beginning to have second thoughts about this new professional arrangement with Stefan. “What’s the problem?”
“Awful lot of people there.”
“And none of them expect me to be there.” She folded her arms across her chest, mimicking his stubborn behavior. She looked out the window to a quiet, flower box-lined, cobble-stoned street below. A few people walked and others rode bikes, but everyone seemed to be minding their own business.
Now that Stefan was here, she didn’t feel as anxious as she had been about her safety. Only about her attraction to him, despite their past. “I’ll wear a hoodie.” She picked up a red hooded sweatshirt that had been part of a designer’s athletic collection she’d modeled.
“You’re missing the point.”
“No, you are. I have a life to live.” She gestured at the magazines stacked around her. “This incident decimated my runway career, and it’s trashing my commercial print work. At least give me a day of fun before I head back to L.A. because we both know what’s waiting for me there.”
Stefan shook his head. “You have to let me do my job.”
“And I will. But nothing has happened here. You can start guarding when we return to the States.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m serious about this.”
“So am I.”
“Then you’re fired.” She picked up the hoodie. Maybe it was better this way.
“Better fired than seeing you dead.” Stefan threw up his hands. “And for God’s sake, don’t wear that blazing red beacon. It’s bad enough that your purple hair is an attractor. Don’t you have anything in gray or brown?”
Elena dangled a gray hooded sweatshirt with the word Monterey stitched across the front. “I grabbed this on a chilly day on the peninsula. Will this do?”
Stefan grabbed it. “At least you understand.”
Penelope snatched it from him. “Jeez, I can’t believe both of you. You do realize that with my height I stand out anyway.” She held up a strand of hair. “And then there’s this.”
“He’s got a point,” Elena said. “I have a whole wardrobe of black t-shirts and turtlenecks if you need it.”
“Morbid. I’ve been trying to get you into colors forever.”
Elena laughed. “Black shows off my jewelry well.” She tossed Stefan a black baseball cap. “Come with us.”
Stefan caught the hat.
Penelope shrugged. “I guess if you want…” She darted a warning look at Elena. She loved her but wished she’d stop accepting or extending invitations without asking her.
As if she could read her mind, Elena winked at Penelope and mouthed the words, but he’s so handsome.
Shaking her head, Penelope plunged her arms into the gray hoodie. “Let’s go.”
Stefan pulled on the cap. “Now that you mention it, can we do something about your hair?”
Both women turned to him at once and Penelope said, “No.”
Elena grinned. “Wait a week or two.”
Inside the gates of Tivoli, which was situated in the middle of Denmark, the amusement park was everything Penelope had remembered. They ate at the Biergarten, rode the old wooden rollercoaster that still had a brakesman driver on board, and listened to a symphony orchestra. Strolling around, they walked through flower gardens, past pretty lakes, and stopped to watch pantomimes at an outdoor theater.
Penelope showed them charming architecture that had been copied from China, India, and other countries around the world. “Even Walt Disney came here for inspiration for Disneyland,” she told them, proud of her country.
After another ride, Penelope promised them a special indulgence. Now she stood with Elena and Stefan in line at Vaffelbageriet, a century-old ice cream shop, watching families with children laughing and playing. Idly she wondered if she would ever have the chance to bring children of her own here someday. She still had time, but she hadn’t had a stellar relationship track record.
When their turn came, she stepped up and ordered ice cream scoops in waffle cones topped with whipped cream and a chocolate-covered meringue puff. “Here you are,” she said, passing cones to Elena and Stefan. “This is some of the best ice cream in the world.”
Elena laughed. “Where do you put all these calories? I’ll be working out for days by the time I return to L.A.”
“And you think I won’t? I was blessed with a great metabolism, but I have to work out to stay fit, too. Otherwise, I’d be living on lettuce like some of the models do. I’d rather be strong and fit than weak and skinny.” Penelope noticed Stefan eyeing her, despite his best efforts not to. Jabbing him in the ribs, she was surprised at his still solid frame. “You’re looking good. I’m impressed, rock-solid abs.”
“Working out more now,” he said, coloring slightly. “Comes with the job description.” He took a bite of his cone. “Now that’s worth it,” he said, a trace of a smile crossing his face.
“Glad to see you’re finally loosening up,” Penelope said.
“No, I’m not. I don’t lose focus on the job.” Quickly reverting, he wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“I fired you, remember?” Penelope scowled at him. “I’m not going to hire you again until we touch down in L.A.”
Stefan shot her a look of concern. “I have a lot of arrangements to make. Like transportation to your house, which my team tells me is still under media siege. We’ll probably need to upgrade your security, too.”
“Enough,” Elena said, cutting in. “I can’t enjoy ice cream listening to you two.”
“See, all that can wait,” Penelope said, deliberately turning from Stefan. She knew all too well what awaited her at home. And this was her last day to enjoy herself for a while.
Penelope closed her eyes and licked her cone, memories of days spent here with her parents and grandparents calming her. She’d needed this visit, a touchstone of normalcy in a life that had become too hectic of late. Yet there wasn’t much time to rest or reflect because she had to return to work as quickly as possible. If she got work. The ice cream seemed to freeze a spot in her head and she winced.
“Brain freeze?” Elena giggled, shifting her eyes between Penelope and Stefan.
Penelope grinned and tapped her head until the delicious pain was gone. Of all of them, Elena was clearly having the best time.
After finishing their ice cream, they listened to music and stayed until the sun set. They were on their way out of the garden when a shooting, popping noise suddenly burst out.
Penelope’s heart thumped and she ducked her head. “Wha—”
Stefan instinctively shielded Penelope against the side of a shop and whirled around, his eyes darting around the crowd.
“Oh, fireworks,” Elena cried, clapping her hands and craning her neck to the darkened sky, which was illuminated with brilliant fiery designs.
Laughing with relief, Penelope slid down the wall to rest on her heels. “I can’t believe we both fell for that. Fireworks!”
Stefan turned and grimaced. “Better to be safe.”
“You have to admit that was funny,” Penelope said, dabbing tears of laughter from her eyes. The release of pressure that had been building for days felt so good, she couldn’t stop chuckling.
“Wow, Stefan’s fast,” Elena said, her eyes wide.
“You saw him in action in New York,” Penelope said, rocking on her heels. The crowd around them started laughing, too, yet Stefan remained on high alert, his body tense and his eyes taking in everything around them.
“Get up,” he said, holding his hands to her while he glanced around.
Penelope tentatively threaded her hands with his, recalling his touch on the balcony of his apartment in New York. She closed her eyes, missing the warmth of his large, capable hands entwined with her slender fingers. This small movement wrenched loose feelings she’d bottled up inside, and a deep yearning for all that could have been—no, should have been—between them rushed into the core of her being, leaving her weak with regret.
Her laughter subsided, and she tossed her hair to one side, obscuring tears that spilled relentlessly forth.
“Hey, hey,” Stefan said, turning his attention to her and lifting her to her feet. “You’re shaking.”
She let him think it was because she’d been frightened. For a moment, she’d let her guard down around him, but she couldn’t risk it again. Still, his touch, his hands wrapped around her arms, cradling her shoulders—it was almost more than she could bear.
“You’re safe now,” he whispered to her. “I understand.”
Did he? What was it he thought he understood? She wondered if he knew how difficult it was to keep a heart from breaking. He enfolded her in his arms and she rested against him, wishing that their lives had worked out differently, yet unable to risk the chance of devastation again.