Page 37

FENELLA

W hen the van entered the tunnel leading to the village, Fenella sighed in relief. Despite the brave face she'd shown Kyra's sisters, she had been shaken by what had happened.

It was proof that the outside world was still a scary place, and it was good to return home, to safety, to Din.

As she saw him waiting for her in the parking garage, her heart leaped. It did that complicated thing where warmth and feeling battled for dominance.

He'd been waiting for her, probably pacing the concrete like a caged panther since the moment she'd texted him that she was almost home.

She let Kyra and her sisters exit the van first and was the last to disembark.

"Thank you," she told Jackson. "Next sandwich is on me."

He waved a dismissive hand and closed the van doors from his control center up front. He'd told them that he was going back to work, so she wasn't surprised when he did a K-turn and headed back into the vehicle lift that would take the van down to the tunnel.

The man had been patience personified, letting them decompress at the café and then entertaining them with stories about his rock band days while driving them back home.

Turning to Din, Fenella smiled. "Have you been pacing the parking garage since the moment I texted you?"

"You know I have." His eyes swept over her, checking for damage as if she'd been in actual combat rather than shopping. When his gaze landed on the brooch still pinned to her shirt, something in his expression softened. "How was Ruth's café?"

"Awesome," she said, glancing at the sisters who were heading to the elevator that would take them up to the glass pavilion.

She lowered her voice. "I played shrink, trying to convince a bunch of scared women not to hide forever in the village, which was a bit hypocritical of me, since that's precisely what I wanted to do. "

"Oh, sweetheart." He pulled her into his arms for a fierce hug. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

"Careful with the box." She took a step back. "You'll smash the sandwich I brought you." She handed it to him. "And don't talk like that. It stresses me out even more than encountering a Revolutionary Guard in a Persian market and watching Max tackle him to the floor."

Din looked confused, her meaning lost on him, but before he could figure it out, Kyra waved at them from the elevator while holding the door from closing. "Are you two coming?"

"Yes, we are." Fenella took Din's hand and walked with him into the waiting lift.

It was a bit crowded in the cab, and Fenella found herself pressed against Din's side, the scent of him familiar and soothing. It was nice to have someone worry about her and wait for her return.

When they emerged into the glass pavilion, she immediately noticed that something was different about the displays along the walls. "Are those new?" She pointed to a case that contained an artifact that hadn't been there when she'd left this morning.

"Kalugal must have refreshed the exhibits," Din said, moving closer to examine the piece. "He told me that he likes to rotate his artifacts, so all the good pieces get to shine. That's Mayan, I believe. Classic period, probably from Palenque."

Fenella shook her head. "He just casually has priceless artifacts lying around to redecorate with?"

Kyra touched her shoulder. "We're heading home. Thank you for coming today and for what you said to my sisters. They needed to hear it."

"I just told them the truth," Fenella said. "Fear is a prison you carry with you. Trust me, I'm an expert."

Kyra nodded. "Regrettably, I'm an expert too."

"I know." Fenella took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We were hell buddies, you and me."

"That's one way to put it." Kyra patted her shoulder and turned to follow her sisters.

"That one is new too," Din said, pointing to the next case. "Baltic amber, probably Neolithic. See how the beads are graduated in size? That's typical of?—"

If she let him, he would talk for hours explaining about each artifact, and although she was fascinated, she was also tired and wanted to get home.

"Din." She tapped the box he was now carrying. "Your sandwich is going to turn into a soggy mess if you don't eat it soon."

He looked at the box like he'd forgotten it existed. "Right. Where would you like to eat? Shira's place or Thomas's?"

They needed to get a place of their own.

By now, it was pretty obvious that she wasn't going anywhere, and that Din wasn't going back to Scotland, and that they were going to be together for the foreseeable future.

Well, there was the excursion to Egypt, but after that, they should get a place of their own.

Fenella was no longer scared of committing to their relationship.

"Maybe we could just go to the café and order coffee," she suggested. "I could use a cappuccino, and before you ask, yes, I know I already had coffee at Fernando's, but that was a while ago, and not that good if I want to be honest."

"I wasn't going to say anything." He took her hand. "The café sounds lovely."

The place was mostly empty in the late afternoon lull, caught between the lunch crowd and the dinner rush. Wonder wasn't there, and Aliya was all by herself because Arezoo had to stay home and watch her cousins while her mother and aunts went shopping.

After the chaos of the day, Fenella appreciated the quiet.

They claimed a corner table by her favorite tree, and Din unwrapped his sandwich with the reverence it deserved. The first bite made his eyes close in appreciation.

"Good?" she asked, though his expression had already answered.

"Excellent," he managed around a mouthful. "Can I offer you the other half?"

Always so considerate, always such a gentleman. She was really lucky to have the Fates choose him for her.

Look at her, being spiritual and all.

"I ate at Fernando's." She waved to get Aliya's attention. "Can we get two cappuccinos, please?"

"Of course," Aliya called out. "Coming right up."

As they waited for their coffees, Fenella enjoyed watching Din eat the sandwich with the focused attention of someone who'd learned not to take good food for granted. There was something endearing about the way he savored each bite.

When her phone buzzed, she expected it to be Kyra for some reason, but when she pulled it out of her purse, Atzil's name flashed on the screen.

"That's a surprise," she muttered. "Hello, boss."

"Fenella!" Atzil's voice boomed through the speaker with enough enthusiasm to make her hold the phone away from her ear. "I have a proposition for you."

"If it involves me learning to cook, the answer is no."

His laugh was rich and warm. "Nothing like that. I want you to work every night until you leave for Egypt, if you can. I've been getting calls and texts for the past two days with customers begging for it, and the bar has never been so busy as when you're performing your readings."

Every night was a lot, but it was also exactly what she needed—structure, purpose, and money.

"Do you want me to run it by myself?"

It would have been impossible to do during the weekend, but on weekdays the place wouldn't be as busy, so maybe she could pull it off by herself or with a little bit of help from Din.

"I wouldn't dream of leaving you to handle everything on your lonesome. I'll be there with you from opening to closing."

"What about your duties at Kalugal's?" she asked. "You cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner for his entire crew. That's a lot of work."

"It won't be the first time I've pulled double duty," Atzil said. "Ingrid keeps telling me that if I want to grow the business, I need to seize opportunities. And you, my dear, are the best opportunity the Hobbit has seen since its opening."

The compliment warmed her more than it should have. "When do you want me to start?"

"Tonight?" The hope in his voice was almost comical. "If you're available, of course. I was thinking of opening at nine in the evening and closing at one in the morning. That's only four hours. I can manage that in addition to my cooking duties during the day."

Fenella glanced at Din, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. "Tonight works."

"Excellent! I'll post it on the bulletin board so everyone knows. And as we agreed, you get to keep all the tips."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him for a better hourly rate as well, but she didn't want to be greedy. The tips alone were enough to cover most of her needs. After all, it wasn't as if she had to pay rent or utilities.

While she had been on the phone, their cappuccinos had arrived, and Fenella took an appreciative sip. "These are better than what Ruth makes at Fernando's, but don't tell her I said that."

"Your secret is safe," Din said, but there was something careful in his tone. "Every night is a lot, and after the excitement of today, you should rest instead of working."

His concern for her well-being was sweet, but she was perfectly capable of evaluating what she could and couldn't do, and she didn't appreciate being given unsolicited advice. She never had.

"It's only for a few days." She wrapped her hands around the warm cup. "Depending on when we leave for Egypt."

"That's even more reason not to exert yourself. A lot is riding on your ability, and if you arrive there exhausted, your performance might suffer."

She had a feeling that her performance was the least of his worries, and that what he wanted was to have more of her time.

"I need this," she said. "When I'm behind that bar, making drinks and telling ridiculous stories, I know who I am, and everything feels right." She smiled. "I get to shine."

"And when you're not behind the bar?"

The question hung between them, heavier than it should have been. When she wasn't behind the bar, she was just Fenella—a survivor who'd gone through too much and wanted to forget.

"It's still difficult," she said finally. "But I'm working on it."