by Sophie Love
She looked left, then right, taking in the sight of the wide, modern, store-lined street. All her plans for the day seemed to fly out the window. She could hardly concentrate, let alone negotiate her way through an unfamiliar city to contemplate some great works of art. She decided then that instead of visiting any of the locations on her list of sights, she’d learn all about Stockholm through a spot of retail therapy.
She headed right along the street, choosing the direction that would take her away from the palace and Milo. The stores all had their Christmas displays in the window, and it struck Keira then that her only option for buying gifts for her family and friends would be to do so in Sweden. She’d barely have any time in New York on her return.
She came across a store selling cute home furnishings and kitchenware. It seemed like the perfect place to get something for Bryn, a slightly cheeky gift to hint at her sudden domestication at the hands of Felix. She perused the items on the display, her attention drawn to an extensive display of cheese slicers. They were in all different sizes and colors, some even in novelty shapes. Keira looked at them, bemused. Why so many cheese slicers?
A store clerk sidled up to her then. “You’re a tourist,” she commented.
“Is it that obvious?” Keira said with a chuckle.
“Well, no one from Sweden would look that surprised at the range of cheese slicers on offer. They’re a Swedish staple.”
Keira raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
The woman nodded. “Oh yes. You will not meet a single person in Sweden who doesn’t have at least five of these things. Or…” She leaned over and picked up a small, varnished wooden spoon and handed it to Keira. “…one of these.”
“A spoon?” Keira asked, looking at the extremely underwhelming wooden item in her hands.
“It’s part of our culture,” the store clerk explained. “Bread for breakfast with slices of cheese. And this is for the jam.” She tapped the spoon.
“I think this is some kind of elaborate sales ploy,” Keira mused. “But it worked. I’ll take them both.”
She couldn’t wait to see the look on Bryn’s face when she unwrapped them on Christmas day. You couldn’t really get more domestic than a cheese slicer and jam spoon!
The clerk rung up the items at the till and Keira paid, uttered a slightly self-conscious “Tack!” and then headed out the store into the streets again.
As she started wandering again, her mind returned to Milo. She wondered whether she’d made the right call shutting him down like that. Another tour would at the very least give her some good material to work with. But she was so afraid of falling for him.
She stopped walking abruptly then. If she didn’t want to fall for him, then she wouldn’t. It was that simple. She didn’t have to be a slave to her heart! Just because she was attracted to him didn’t mean she had to avoid him, like she was some kind of creature in heat who couldn’t be held accountable for their own actions. She just had to be mature about the whole thing. Professionally aloof. Keep things strictly business. One tour, nothing more.
She took her cell phone out of her purse and found Milo’s business card, which she’d put neatly inside the jacket of her notebook. She began typing.
Hi, it’s Keira. I’ve decided a second tour would actually be really helpful for my article. There’s a few more questions I’d like to ask you, if you don’t mind. Is the offer still open?
She decided against putting a kiss on the end, and reread the message until she was satisfied that it sounded completely un-flirty. Then she hit send.
She didn’t have to wait long for a response. Her phone pinged an incoming message so quickly she was certain it couldn’t be Milo. But when she looked, it was indeed his name on the screen. She opened the message and read.
Of course. I’d be very happy to see you again. I’ll think of a good meeting spot and text you the details in the morning. Can’t wait.
Keira immediately felt her cheeks grow warm. He was eager, that much was clear, and regardless of whether she wanted things to be strictly professional or not, it was always nice to be desired.
After the brief communication with Milo, Keira felt buoyant, and she practically skipped her way through the streets of Stockholm. Then, feeling tired from the emotion of the day, she went back to the ship for some quiet writing time.
Sitting in her cozy bed, laptop on her knees, Keira began to free write about her meeting with Milo and what she had learned. Her plan was to write what she wanted to, almost like a diary entry, then shape the passage later into a more usable draft. There were only so many words she could devote to Sweden after all, and just because the meeting with Milo had been her favorite of the trip so far, it didn’t mean it would be for the readers.
So she typed and typed, losing herself in the memories of the day, the visceral sensations of meeting someone you had such a strong attraction to. By the time she stopped, the sky outside her round window had darkened. She looked back over her writing, surprised at how beautifully she could construct certain sentences when there was passion and drive behind them. And surprised, also, with how evidently her heart yearned for more of Milo.
“You’re in charge, brain,” she said aloud. “Don’t forget that, heart.”
She decided against going out for dinner. She was tired, and didn’t feel like braving the cold again. Besides, her time on the ship had almost come to an end. Now she wanted to enjoy some of it.
So she had a long soak, put on a face mask and pajamas, did her nails, and watched a cheesy rom-com movie in bed, while picking at the foods in her minibar. It felt great to slob out for fun, rather than out of misery like she had done on Bryn’s couch.
Then at some point she fell asleep. And in her dreams, she was wearing a beautiful white silk dress, walking the snowy fields of Sweden to an aisle. At there, waiting for her, was her perfect man. And he looked just like Milo.
*
Keira was woken the next morning by the sound of her phone. It was an incoming text. She came to her senses instantly, remembering how Milo had said he would text her a meeting location in the morning. She grabbed her phone and felt a surge of excitement to see that the message was indeed from him. He’d sent her a location for what he called a “breakfast meeting.”
Perfect, Keira thought. He gets that this is a strictly business thing.
She leapt out of bed, more enthusiastic than the average person prior to a business meeting. Thanks to all the pampering she’d done last night, she was already looking pretty put together. Her skin was positively glowing, her nails looked like they could have been done professionally, and her hair had a beautiful glossy sheen. She only needed a little bit of makeup to complete her look, and she chose some casual yet smart clothes in order to keep up the pretence of a business meeting. Nothing said business like beige.
As soon as she was ready, she left the ship, wanting to give herself plenty of time to find the cafe. But Milo’s directions were so clear she found it right away, and realized she had ten minutes to kill before he was even due to arrive.
She went up to the register to order some coffee. There was a stand of magazines beside the counter, and to her absolute horror, she saw her own face staring back at her. It was the damn Viatorum issue again! That cover seemed to be following her everywhere.
“What can I get you?” the barista said, turning her attention to Keira.
“How much is that magazine?” Keira asked.
“The price is on the back,” the woman said, and her sentence trailed off. “Wait. Is that YOU?”
Keira’s cheeks burned. She grabbed the whole stack of magazines. “I’ll buy them all,” she muttered.
The barista began ringing them up on the till. “So are you famous then? You must be if you’re on the cover of a magazine!”
Keira kept her gaze fixed on the countertop. She was too embarrassed to engage in conversation.
As soon as she’d paid the barista, she grabbed the stack of magazines and headed
outside, throwing them in the first trash can she saw. A calmness came over her, a relief to know she wouldn’t be subjected, again, to the shame of being the cover star of a magazine in Milo’s presence. But then she suddenly realized she should have ripped the covers up. If Milo walked past this particular trash can, he still might see them!
She turned and reached into the garbage, picking up all the magazines, which were now smeared with bits of food. She grimaced, reaching further in for one that had slipped out of her grasp.
With her hands deep in the garbage, she felt a tap on her back. She froze, horrified, then slowly raised herself out of the can, turning slowly to come face to face with Milo.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Keira felt absolutely humiliated. But Milo looked thoroughly amused.
“What are you doing?” he asked, laughing.
“I… um… well…” Keira floundered for an excuse. She plucked something out of her mind. “My bracelet. I dropped it.”
Milo didn’t look convinced. “In the trash?”
“Yeah. And I would have left it but it was a gift from my sister.” She gesticulated as she lied, a nervous habit. “Silver. You know? Expensive.”
Milo narrowed his piercing blue eyes. “You mean like that bracelet on your wrist?”
Keira’s gaze snapped to her hand, held high in the air mid-gesticulation, to see a delicate silver bracelet around it. “Yeah. That one. I found it. Just before you tapped my back.”
“Right…” Milo said, tapping his chin. “So you found your bracelet and decided to put it on while still hanging halfway into the trash can?”
Keira smiled through her grimace. “Yup. That’s exactly what happened.”
Milo nodded, looking skeptically amused.
Keira glanced over her shoulder at the barista who’d commented on her being famous. The last thing she wanted now was to go back in there.
“So I was thinking,” she added hurriedly, taking him by the arm and steering him away from the barista’s staring eyes through the window, “that we could have breakfast somewhere different. I mean, the food in that place was standard American stuff, and I’d like to sample something more traditional to Sweden.”
“Sure,” Milo said, shrugging. “If you’d prefer. Did you have anywhere specific in mind?”
“I was hoping you’d know somewhere. How about somewhere on the river? If you can think of a spot.”
“Yeah, I can think of somewhere that sells smörgås,” Milo said. “This way.”
They headed away from the cafe, leaving the incriminating garbage can behind. Soon they reached the riverside. Milo led Keira along the sidewalk and stopped outside a cafe.
“Here,” he said. “I’ve only been here once before. But it fits your criteria, riverside and Swedish menu.”
“It’s perfect,” Keira said, wondering what kind of terrible impression she must be giving off.
They went inside. Milo spoke to the guy behind the bar, ordering, “smörgås” and “stinka.”
“You’re not pranking me, are you?” Keira asked, warily, as they headed to their seats.
“Not at all,” Milo chuckled. “Stinka is ham. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
Keira shook her head. A moment later the server came over with two wooden boards. On each of them were slices of bread and cheese, little pots of butter, cucumbers, tomatoes, and cold cuts of ham and beef. The server also placed two very strong-looking coffees beside the wood boards.
“Okay, this is a feast!” Keira commented. “What a great way to start the day.”
Milo grinned. “I’m glad you approve.”
Keira looked away from his enticing smile. Business, business, business, she repeated in her mind, as she quickly took her notebook from her bag.
“Shall we get right to it?” she asked.
“Sure,” Milo said.
He seemed to have a very easygoing attitude, happy to go along with whatever she suggested.
Keira quickly looked over her notes. She had not even thought to prepare more questions for him. The whole interview aspect of their meeting had gotten lost in her mind since she’d been so focused on the actual meeting part!
“Er… you mentioned equality in relationships last time,” she said. “Could you say a bit more about that? Perhaps in relation to marriage?”
No sooner had she said it than she remembered the white wedding dress in her dream, and the perfect man who bore a striking resemblance to the one sitting before her munching on bread.
“Marriage,” he said aloud. “It’s a tricky one. Can a marriage ever be equal, when the historical foundation of marriage is ownership? A woman belonging to a man? I don’t agree with that, so in a way, I can’t agree with marriage. That said, I think lots of people these days are pushing the boundaries of what marriage means and why it matters. I respect that transformation. I know a lot of people who marry for legal security in terms of their children and home and inheritance. But that’s not particularly romantic, is it? I personally don’t know whether I can unpick those two things, the extremely unsexy legal side and the heady romance side. I don’t know if they can fully co-exist.”
Keira gazed at him as he spoke. His voice was so calming, so soothing. And his answers were so thorough. He clearly thought everything through. It was a charming quality.
Suddenly, Keira realized he’d stopped speaking. She snapped back to attention. “That’s fascinating,” she said. “I’m guessing that means you haven’t been married before? If you have such conflicting opinions on it.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No. Never. I’m very much single at this point in my life.”
“And would you marry, if you met someone to whom it was important?”
“Oh, yes, of course!” he said. “I fully appreciate why a partner would want to. Women, in particular, are given less securities in our world than men. If a woman was to, say, give up a year of employment in order to carry and raise my child, it would be only fair and right for her to be legally entitled to whatever money I earned during that period of time. Otherwise, she’s sacrificing and I’m gaining. It wouldn’t be fair. From that perspective, marriage makes sense to me.”
Keira felt herself go off into dreamland again. Milo’s views were extremely interesting, not to mention appealing. Who wouldn’t want a marriage based on equality? On shared responsibility and respect? If she ever did get married, that would definitely be the way she’d want it to be.
She realized then that her platter of food was sitting uneaten in front of her. She’d been so entranced by Milo and his opinions she hadn’t even touched it. She quickly ate some now.
“Oh, this is good,” she said. “The cheese is awesome.”
“Cheese at breakfast is a very Swedish thing to eat,” Milo explained.
Keira thought suddenly of the cheese slicer she’d purchased. “Oh yes! I learned about this yesterday while I was shopping for Christmas gifts. I came away with a cheese slicer and wooden spoon.”
Milo began to laugh. “That’s most apt. Who’s the lucky recipient going to be?”
“My older sister,” Keira explained. “Bryn. She’s spent the last thirty years on the party scene, never settling, barely even having a relationship, and now suddenly she’s in love with this guy who’s older than our mother. They’re moving in together so I thought I’d get her some tongue-in-cheek kitchen utensils.”
Milo chuckled. “That’s very funny. I have a sister too. Regina. She’s also older. She’s an astrophysicist.”
Keira raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think Bryn would even be able to spell astrophysicist.”
They dissolved into easy laughter. Then, once it had subsided, they polished off their respective breakfasts.
“Are you ready for the tour?” Milo asked, once her mug had been drained of coffee.
Keira snapped her notebook shut. The coffee had been so strong she felt her body buzzing with caffeine.
“Yup.” She grinned. “Where are
you taking me?”
They stood, collecting their jackets from the back of their chairs.
“The Fotografiska museum,” Milo told her. “You can probably guess from the name that it’s a photography museum.”
“I love museums,” Keira said, in a dumb, floaty voice.
“I know.” Milo smiled.
She felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach, and told her mind, in a very stern voice, to get control over the situation.
*
The Fotografiska museum was, quite simply, amazing. Keira could have spent every weekend of her life from that point forward looking at the incredible photographs without getting tired of it. There was just so much talent on display!
“Photography is my favorite type of art,” Milo told her as they walked from one stunning image to the next. “There’s a democratization of art when you can make it with technology we all possess. Look, over there is a smartphone exhibition.”
“Awesome,” Keira agreed. “You seem to know a lot about art.”
“My first degree was in art.”
“Not history?”
He shook his head. “No. In Sweden our education system is much looser. You can study part time if you want, and all different kinds of subjects. It’s not uncommon for people to dip in and out of education for many years, reading around all different types of topics. History and art aren’t even that far apart, when you really think about it.”
“I guess not,” Keira said.
She was enjoying getting glimpses into Milo’s mind. He seemed so intelligent. So knowledgeable. Her entire experience with education had been about getting a decent, good-paying job at the end, to take steps away from her childhood struggles. She’d never really thought about studying for the sake of learning.
“If you want to stay here,” Milo said then, interrupting her thoughts, “I’m very happy to. But I’d really love to show you Stockholm cathedral. It’s medieval. Built in 1279.”
