“Yeah, I know. I’ve been to your continent. I saw it myself.” He looks at me while we walk, the row of trees almost ending. “So, this Law of Jante thing. I would try to impress Lars in a very subtle way if I were you.” He gives me a meaningful stare. “Don’t do anything that will get you too much attention or put you on uneven ground with others. If someone says you did a good job, you say it was thanks to the team, not only your efforts. You get the point.”
I nod, thankful for his advice, and we take a branching path toward the exit of the park. I look down at my pink sneakers, trying to picture my wardrobe in my head to see if I have anything discreet for tonight.
On our way to our last destination (item nine of the list), we pass by Nyhavn, Copenhagen’s most famous postcard, with the colorful historical buildings in front of the canal filled with boats. It was the first place I visited when I arrived, and it’s still one of my favorite spots in the city despite the hordes of tourists crowding the streets.
“What about my hair?” I bring the honey-colored ends to my eyes, wondering if it’s time to leave the ombré style behind. My roots are very dark, and my hair is quite chemically damaged without monthly maintenance at my mom’s salon. Hairdressers are very expensive here, so I’ve been avoiding them. My mom would make a lot of money in this country. “Should I dye it back to dark brown?”
“You look great as you are, Sol,” he says, and then he blushes and becomes a little stiffer. Wait, what? He thinks I’m pretty? Is that really what he’s saying? My heart races and I try to conceal my smile.
Well, he liked you on Cinder, right? The reminder of how we got acquainted makes my face heat up too. I normally try not to think that he had hoped to date me when we first met.
“But if you need an opinion, I think it would be nice if you embrace your natural color, yeah,” Erik adds, still careful, but I notice he means it. “And your waves. I know Danish blondes who would love to have dark hair with curls.”
“Are you kidding me? They have the silky blond hair women come to my mom’s salon begging to get.”
Erik shrugs, smiling. “I guess you always want what you can’t have.”
Eleven
When my boss sees that my boyfriend is Erik Storm, his eyes widen. Then he hugs Erik, claps his back, laughs out loud, and says, “Storm, I can’t believe it! How are you? It’s so good to see you again!”
They chat excitedly in the foyer. Meanwhile, I stand near the door, clutching my purse in front of my body, smiling like a goth-chic Latina Barbie in a black long-sleeve dress and black tights. An elegant middle-aged woman wearing a beige knitted dress approaches me, and I shake her hand.
“Hi, I’m Lotte, Lars’s wife.” She smiles kindly, long earrings dangling and shining with a tiny green gem that matches her eyes.
“I’m Sol. Nice to meet you!”
We look at Lars and Erik, both still laughing like two old friends who haven’t seen each other in years. Considering Erik’s responses whenever I mentioned Lars, I could never have imagined he was so loved by his former boss. I haven’t seen Lars have such an effusive reaction to anyone before. And Erik...he’s behaving like he loves the man back.
Well, it’s good for our act, I guess.
Lars finally turns around and sees me with his wife. While Erik says hi to her, Lars walks over to me.
“Sol, it’s great that you came. And holy moly! Erik Storm? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I smile weakly, and Erik comes to my side, putting an arm around my shoulders. A shiver runs down my spine the second I feel his warm, massive body touch mine.
“It’s all a bit new to us,” he answers, which is good, because I’ve totally lost focus, my mind only understanding one situation: Erik’s arm around me. “We wanted the right occasion to tell you guys.”
“I can’t wait to hear the story.” Lars chuckles to himself. “Come in!”
Lars and Lotte enter their vast living room, and Erik and I stay behind to take off our shoes and hang our jackets. It’s a relief when he steps away from me, but at the same time, the absence of his warm body next to mine makes me shiver, feeling suddenly cold.
“What was all that about?” I whisper to him as I unzip my boots.
“What do you mean?” he whispers back, looking distracted. A cacophony of voices comes from the living room. We arrived five minutes before seven, but it seems like others were even earlier.
“His euphoria for seeing you,” I explain.
Erik smiles shyly. “It’s nothing. That’s how Lars is.”
I’m not convinced, but Erik doesn’t wait for me to say more. He leaves his shoes next to mine and starts walking toward the next room. I catch up with him and hold his hand. We look at each other, and my heart rate increases. His palm is sweaty against mine. Warm. Soft. It’s...weird to hold hands with him. Good. In a strange, delightful way.
“Ready?” I whisper under my breath.
He nods.
Smiling, we walk to the sofas, where we are met with loud, excited greetings.
“Unbelievable, isn’t it?” Lars says, and many people stand up at the same time.
George is the first to embrace us, and we are introduced to his boyfriend, Alex. Then Chiara and her girlfriend, Anika, give us handshakes. Chiara started at Scorpio after Erik left, so she doesn’t know him. Astrid gives us each a brief hug, saying that it’s good to see Erik again. Simon claps Erik’s back with enthusiasm and says he misses him.
We meet Simon’s wife, Lia, a petite Portuguese woman who greets me with an “olá.” As we are still standing in the middle of the room—me asking Lia in Portuguese which city she is from—Ellen arrives with her husband, Mads. She lifts her arms, crying Erik’s name wholeheartedly. It takes her a moment to understand that he came as my boyfriend, not a special guest.
“Oh, wow!” she says after we have been introduced to her husband. “This is wild!” She puts one hand on my shoulder and one on Erik’s. “How did this happen?”
“I’m also eager to hear!” Lars says.
Thankfully, his wife chooses this moment to call everyone to the table, which is already set with the quiz game, drinks, and snacks. They had warned us to get dinner before, as we would go straight to the game.
When everyone is settled around the table, I start to think Martin won’t come. It’s ten past seven. He is late. I hold back a smile of triumph.
Then he arrives.
The door is unlocked, so he walks in, announcing himself from the foyer.
It takes Martin a moment to notice Erik’s presence. He is heading toward his seat next to Astrid when his eyes land on his former business partner.
