PENELOPE GLANCED AROUND the table at Talia’s production team. Here in the office—a converted loft in Los Angeles, everyone was dressed in jeans and t-shirts. Talia had warned her, so she’d worn jeans with heels and a hand-woven sweater she’d found in Ecuador—only one of the countries she wanted to feature on the series.
Talia began. “I invited Penelope here today to tell us about her new project.”
Setting aside her nervousness, Penelope began talking about the project she wanted to develop for television. “It’s a fashion travel show fusion that focuses on artisan-crafted fashion indigenous to local areas.” Once she had their attention, she went on to talk about what a mutual win it would be for everyone involved, from the production team to artisans to viewers.
After delivering her short, twenty-minute pitch, Penelope sat back. “Any questions?”
Several people began talking at once. Penelope answered the questions she could, and Talia addressed others, particularly those that touched on a reality show instead. After an hour, the meeting broke up.
Most of Talia’s team raced off to other meetings, but Talia motioned to her to wait while she stepped outside the office to talk to a couple of people in what appeared to be a heated discussion.
Penelope focused on gathering her material and then checked her messages, waiting until they finished. She’d done the best she could, and could only wait for a decision to be made. If Talia’s team didn’t take it, she had already set up a meeting with another producer she’d once met.
Presently, Talia returned. “Got a few minutes more?”
“Sure.” Penelope put down her purse and materials.
“You gave an interesting presentation.” Talia inclined her head in thought. “My team raised a lot of good questions.”
“You have a smart, thorough team.” Penelope had enjoyed answering their questions—and many points they raised had been tough ones.
“I think so, too,” Talia said. “Because we’ve just green-lighted your project. We want to get started as soon as possible.”
“That’s great. Thank you, Talia.” Penelope was so excited to begin working again.
Talia embraced her and said, “Welcome to the team.”
Penelope couldn’t wait to share her news with Aimee, Elena, and all her friends. Many of them would be at the party tonight.
The sun was setting in the Marina del Rey harbor along the coast of Los Angeles. Streaks of pink, orange, and violet lit the sky, as though in preparation for the party ahead. Penelope sat in the SUV with Aimee next to her, whose camera crew was already on board the glimmering white yacht. Josh turned into the yacht club and showed the guard Aimee’s credentials for entrance. The guard waved them through.
Penelope had told Aimee all about her success with Talia’s team. “I can’t wait to get started,” she said, still bursting with excitement.
Aimee listened, nodding in thought. “I’d like to cover some of your journeys, too. Indigenous fashion photo layouts, the stories behind the artisans, aiding women’s creative businesses in developing nations. We can coordinate dates with Talia.”
“This show has the potential to impact a lot of people in a positive way.” Penelope’s mind was whirring with possibilities.
Aimee patted Penelope’s shoulder. “And viewers will love it. You’re naturally engaging.”
As they drove closer, Kristo’s yacht loomed ahead, radiant in the setting sun.
“There she is,” Josh said, nodding ahead toward the sleek yacht moored at the end of the slips. Gargantuan in size, it was too large to fit into a slip. “A Manta Explorer, very nice.”
“Two-hundred-thirteen feet,” Penelope said. “An amazing vessel.” A steady stream of people was flowing down the wooden pier toward it. “Looks like an interesting guest list.”
Smoothing her perfect jet black bob, Aimee glanced at the gathering. “That’s the Silicon Valley crowd in jeans and t-shirts. No photos there for Fashion News Daily—that would be the No Fashion Daily.” She sighed, and then brightened. “Fortunately, Hollywood stars clean up well. Look, there’s Hugo Gutierrez and Elijah Rousseau with their dates.” She began texting her camera crew. “Didn’t you say that Elena and Fianna were going to be here, too? I’d like to get them in some shots.”
“They said they would be here later.”
“There’s Monica Graber,” Aimee said. “My God, she looks awful.”
“She’s been through a lot,” Penelope said softly.
With Josh trailing behind them, Penelope and Aimee approached the yacht, which was decorated in twinkling party lights and blasting dance music, with giant backlit images of characters in Master’s Revenge displayed.
Penelope had formed an agenda, but now she wondered if she’d be able to get Kristo away from the crowd. As they boarded, Aimee nudged Penelope and nodded toward a giant banner of the warrior character who looked exactly like Penelope. “Better get a shot of that for your attorney.”
There was no accident in the likeness of her. With the image enlarged, Penelope could see the same tiny red birthmark under her left lower eyelashes. He’d lifted her image, with complete disregard for her.
As she stared at it, flashes popped in her face.
Aimee grabbed her arm and whirled her around. “I swear those are not my people.”
“Wait. That’s good evidence. Get a photo of this.”
Recognizing the opportunity, Aimee had her crew there in a minute to get the shot. “A little to the left, there, that’s good. Penelope, the white lace was a good choice. Turn to reveal the open back. There, that’s it.”
Penelope had chosen a white lace halter dress, onto which she’d affixed a small medallion at the tip of the deep V that was just the right size to insert an audio device.
“What a surprise, Penelope.” Kristo’s voice sounded behind her. “I didn’t know if you were getting my texts. Lose your phone?”
She turned. “It’s been a busy week.” Kristo was clad in white jeans and a t-shirt, with a black linen sports coat and a crimson silk ascot at his neck.
“Interesting outfit,” Aimee said. “I’ll need a shot of that.”
Kristo held out his arms and spun around. “Like it? I’m dressed as the master from the game.” He draped his arm around Penelope and pulled her to him.
It was all she could do to maintain her composure. What she needed tonight was evidence. From the corner of her eye, Penelope could see Josh observing Kristo, sizing him up. She caught herself wishing that Stefan had been here instead.
Kristo gave her a glass of champagne from a tray a waiter brought especially for them. “How’re you holding up with all the media attention?” He let his eyes trail over her.
Feeling uncomfortable under his annoying scrutiny, Penelope shifted on her feet. “I don’t pay any attention to it.” She held the glass to her nose, and then hesitated.
He seemed crestfallen for a second, then regrouped. “But they haven’t caught that guy who tried to kill you.” He waved his hand around the vessel. “Mi casa es su casa. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.”
“Thank you, Kristo, but after this stunt,” she glanced up at her giant likeness in a warrior’s outfit, “I don’t think we play well together.”
“I’m the master, Penelope. You might as well accept it. We were meant to be together.” He wrapped his hand around her upper arm. “You’re not drinking your champagne.”
Penelope studied it. “I’m slow.” Had he drugged it?
A group of enthusiastic young guys in jeans and t-shirts came up behind Kristo. “Here’s the master. Great game, man. Everybody bow down to the master!” As they began mock bowing to him, the movement rippled across the crowd, with people chanting, “Kristo, Kristo.”
Penelope let others step between them and slipped away from his adoring crowd. She glanced behind her. Josh was keeping her in his sights.
After draining her champagne over the railing into the water, she hurried through the crowd and made her way to Kristo’s office. She tried the door. Locked.
“You never saw me do this.” Josh appeared beside her. With a swift movement at the lock, he swung the door open. “Go get what you’re looking for. I’ll stay here.”
Penelope stepped into Kristo’s office and headed to his desk, her heart thundering in her ears. The last time she was here, she’d seen a file with her photo clipped to the top. It had struck her as a little old-school for a guy who’d made billions from software.
And yet, there it was again. She ran her hand over it and then flipped open the file, only to find it was empty. As she did, a door to another part of the office slid open. Penelope froze.
No one came out. She walked silently to the dark opening and entered. Directly in front of her, a light illuminated a floor-to-ceiling image of her in the Master’s Revenge warrior outfit. Creepy. When she turned to one side, the first image dimmed and another wall lit, casting shadows over a collage of magazine covers.
Turning away, the lights dimmed, and then another wall brightened, revealing a collection of candid shots of her. There she was standing at the podium that night in New York. The fashion show she’d walked in earlier that day. Of her deplaning in Copenhagen, at Tivoli with Elena. There was another image of her going into her family’s apartment. Her house in Hollywood Hills, of her swimming in the pool. Having lunch with Aimee and Talia.
How had he gotten these? She swung around, suddenly feeling trapped. Sensors seemed to follow her eyes. Wherever she looked became illuminated. This time the focus was on sensational media headlines, the ones that had been circulating in the media lately.
Spooked by this obsessive display, Penelope backed from the room, and then turned to run.
Kristo caught her by the shoulders. “Don’t you like my homage to you? I thought you were worthy of front-page coverage. So I arranged opportunities for you.”
“You’re behind all this,” she said, trying to maintain her calm. Kristo was sick. Psychopathic. Her fingers found the medallion she wore. She pressed it.
“It’s tiring being second, when you can so easily buy a company and create the news. Instant scoops. Why didn’t anyone ever think of that before? Turns out there’s a huge amount of money in media clicks, too. As long as you have the right headline and cover model.”
Penelope jerked away from his grip and threw a glance toward the door, which had been left ajar. Where was Josh?
Kristo slowly clapped. “Tell me, when did you catch on to our little game?” He saw her look toward the door. “Oh, your boyfriend had to go.”
She’d seen enough. Penelope sprinted toward the open door.
With a swift wave of Kristo’s hand, the door slammed shut. He held up his hand. “Clever, huh?” He walked to his desk, to the folder that had her name on it. Open, close. The door to the other room slid closed, then opened again in response. “It’s like magic, isn’t it? With my renovations, this whole place is like a video game.”
Feeling like she’d stumbled into a chamber of horrors, Penelope swung around.
Kristo laughed. “I gave you the chance to come to me in Copenhagen. But you wanted to play hard to get.”
“You can still let me walk out of here, Kristo.”
Shaking his head, his eyes glittered with excitement. “We can sail the seas together, and you’ll never have to deal with another paparazzi again. Or a tedious ex-wife.”
“No, Kristo.”
“You’ll live in luxury with me, your every desire met.”
“You actually think I’d leave everything and go down the rabbit hole with you?”
“Why, yes.” He smiled. “Your apartment is so much nicer than you imagine, Penelope. It’s hardly a rabbit hole. It’s a palatial suite worthy of a warrior princess. Worthy of you.” He held his hand out to her. “Come, I’ll show you. You can get comfortable. You won’t be going home anyway.”
Penelope inched along the desk, sizing him up. He seemed so calm and confident.
“Open the door, Kristo. I’m not staying here.”
Kristo chuckled. “Of course you are. I’m the master of the universe, and you’re my warrior princess. You are my ultimate revenge on all the women who laughed at me—until I became rich.”
“I never laughed at you.”
“That’s why I knew we’d be perfect together. And this is our world, our command station.”
“I’m warning you, Kristo. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Rotating his shoulder, his eyes gleamed. “Go ahead. I’ve been in training for this moment.” He pushed her shoulders, taunting her.
Penelope jerked aside and shoved her palm up against his nasal septum, spurting blood and snapping his neck back in cervical shock. Following through with her palm, she prevailed, causing him to lose his balance and tumble in a flailing heap.
In a flash, she drew her hand from her cross-body purse and pepper-sprayed him in the eyes, leaving him howling. She snatched a couple of power cords from the computer to tie his hands behind his back and secured his ankles.
She knelt beside him. “Let me make myself clear again. I am not staying here. And you will never do this to another woman.”
With his eyes reddened and tightly scrunched against the pain, Kristo whimpered. “You can’t leave me like this.”
She leaned close enough to smell the fear that cloaked him. “Tell me how to open that door so I can get something to wash the pepper from your eyes.”
Once he stopped screaming long enough to tell her, she found the manual-open lever and unlocked the door. She tore through the passageway, searching for Josh. She raced up a ladder to an upper deck and stopped.
Rushing toward her was Stefan, followed by several members of the Coast Guard. She raced to him, and he caught her in his arms. Relief flooded her; his arms around her had never felt so good.
“Are you okay?” he asked, alarmed. “We got some intel on Kristo. He’s been behind your troubles all along.”
“I’m okay, but Kristo needs help.” She couldn’t help the note of pride that seeped into her voice. “He got some pepper in his eyes.”
Watching the Coast Guard arrest Kristo, Penelope finally felt a sense of closure and release. How one person could use sophisticated technology to target her and plant tabloid stories for fun and profit was more than she could have imagined. Kristo might have been brilliant in software, but for whatever reason, he’d crossed over to the dark side.
She glanced up at the enormous lit image of herself in Kristo’s warrior game gear and shuddered, realizing how close she’d come to being his captive.
Medics were tending to Josh, who’d been knocked out, as well as one of Kristo’s accomplice, who was the reason Josh had disappeared from the passageway. Of the two, Josh had definitely fared better. Another officer was questioning Monica, who appeared quiet and withdrawn.
Aimee stood next to Penelope. “It’s not often a fashion editor gets a scoop on the most explosive story in business news. Billionaire Goes Bust,” Aimee said, sweeping her hands in the air. “Never thought I’d see a billionaire software designer arrested at his own flashy launch party.”
“How about Warrior Princess Exacts Revenge.” Penelope folded her arms and watched while Stefan spoke to Coast Guard officers.
Stefan was outlining the evidence his cyber investigator had unearthed on how Kristo had created false stories, framing her and other celebrities to game the system and gain exclusives for his tabloid media company’s news. They even had the name of the shooter in New York, who was also hired by Kristo, confirming part of Monica’s confession.
Add in attempted kidnapping, and Penelope figured Kristo was going away for a long, long time. “This could be big,” Aimee said. “You’re a real-life Wonder Woman.”
Penelope cast a warning glance at her. “Don’t you dare go there. I’ve already lost one career—my runway work.”
“Things sound promising with Talia, though.”
“I’m really excited to have to work again, but I have a lot to learn.” This was a new world Penelope was stepping into, yet she brought years of experience and street smarts to her role.
Aimee stepped aside, making way for guests who were streaming from the yacht. “Guess nothing breaks up a party faster than when the host is arrested.”
“Good thing you had your crew getting photos early.”
“Any later and guests start looking sloshed.” Aimee peered at two women hurrying toward them. “Look who’s arriving fashionably late.”
Dressed in Fianna’s latest cruise collection of dresses in turquoise and coral, Elena and Fianna were coming aboard, looking shocked. They rushed to Penelope and Aimee.
“As we were walking up, we heard what happened,” Fianna exclaimed. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay, but Kristo won’t be throwing other parties any time soon.” Penelope hugged her friends. “He had an apartment on board he was planning to keep me in. That definitely wasn’t happening.”
“How did you get away?” Fianna asked.
Penelope grinned. “My Krav Maga workouts really paid off.”
“Isn’t that the Israeli workout you’ve been trying to get me to do with you?” Fianna asked.
“You have to come with me now.” Penelope couldn’t stand to think what might have happened if she hadn’t been trained. “What’s creepy is that even people you think you know can turn out to be severely mentally disturbed.”
“The real pros know how to hide it,” Aimee interjected.
Elena seemed particularly distressed. “We were both with him before—right here on board. He could have kidnapped us then.” She clamped a hand over her mouth. “Remember that he was remodeling on a lower deck? Maybe he was preparing for…”
Penelope wrapped her arms around Elena to comfort her. “We’re okay, that’s the only thing that matters. But I’m taking all my friends to self-defense training.”
“Count me in,” Fianna said. “I’ll get Verena, Scarlett, and Dahlia to go, too.”
Aimee touched Fianna’s shoulder. “Before we have to leave the premises, I want to get some shots of you and Elena. But we’ll have to hurry.”
Penelope waited by a railing, mesmerized by the waves far below. She’d never been so frightened in her life, and yet, due to her physical training, she’d known just what to do. If only life and relationships were that simple. How could she protect her heart?
She gazed toward the horizon. If knowing yourself was the most important work you could do in your life, having the ability to read others was a close second. Kristo’s intensity, obsessiveness, and grandiosity had been unnerving. These were red flags she’d be wary of in the future.
As for Monica, she was a pathological liar who had no regard for others unless it could benefit her. She was selfish and lazy, but how much of that could be attributed to substance abuse? No telling how long she’d been taking drugs. When they were friends, Penelope had sometimes suspected it, but Monica had always adamantly denied it because Penelope was so against drug use. All she wanted for Monica was to get the help she needed in rehab. Maybe then, the true Monica might emerge, though Penelope would always be wary of her.
The sea breeze kicked up, and she ran a hand over her hair, twisting it at the nape of her neck. The cool air felt good after the claustrophobic rooms she’d emerged from below.
She glanced back at Josh. The medics were putting one of his arms into a sling. She figured she’d stay around to drive him wherever he needed to go.
“You look like you could use some company.”
Penelope turned to see Stefan leaning against the rail beside her. Her heart thudded, and without hesitation, she flung her arms around his neck. “What an idiot I’ve been.” He might push her away, and it would serve her right, but she wasn’t holding back anymore.
The only way to heal her broken heart was to give it away again.
In response, he clasped her close to him. “You couldn’t have known what Kristo was planning,” he said. “I only wish I’d been here with you. I never should have left your side.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
Penelope pulled back to face him, wondering how to begin. She would never keep anything from him again. “I had a talk with Monica.”
Stefan grimaced. “Do we have to talk about her? It’s over. The divorce is final and she’s out of my life forever.” He kissed her forehead. “I’d rather talk about us, if you’ll let there be an us again.”
Penelope tilted her face to him, looking him squarely in the eyes. “First, you should know that you never cheated on me. Now I understand why you were so distraught when you came to tell me that you’d slept with Monica. That behavior was completely out of character for you. Because it never happened.”
Stefan opened his mouth, confusion etched on his face. “But she had the proof. She got pregnant.”
“Supposedly.”
His brilliant blue eyes clouded with suspicion. “What are you saying?”
“She conned you. Used a date rape drug on you.”
Stefan stepped away and ran his hands through hair, clearly distraught. “Are you sure about this?”
Penelope took his hands and nodded. “She confessed to me. Turns out she was never pregnant, either. Monica is a con artist, and she conned both of us.”
“That explains a lot,” he said, shaking his head slowly. He raised her hands and kissed her fingertips. “Thank you for that.”
As his eyes shimmered with love for her, warmth spread throughout her body. “So I thought, how can I not forgive you for something you never did?”
A smile grew on Stefan’s lips and he swept his arms around her. “Does this mean we can take up where we left off?”
“I’m planning on it,” Penelope said, her heart beating wildly as she touched her lips to his.
The End
Note from Jan Moran
Thank you for reading Style, and I hope you enjoyed it. Find out what happens next in Sparkle, the sixth book in the Love California series. When jeweler Elena Eaton is robbed of her family’s rare blue diamonds during an Academy Award night jewel heist in Hollywood, insurance investigator Jake Greyson pegs her as a suspect and follows her to Sydney, Australia. Find out what happens when Jake falls for Elena, the sassy jeweler-to-the-stars he’s investigating.
To learn about new releases, please join my VIP Readers Club and receive a bonus read. You might also enjoy reading my popular Summer Beach series, beginning with Seabreeze Inn or a family saga set in Lake Como, Italy, Hepburn’s Necklace.