Chapter 8
The sun shone down on Milly’s shoulders, and she knew she should add some more sun cream, but she enjoyed the feel of the heat on her skin, even if it was turning her a little pink.
She walked through the streets without purpose or thought, following crowds here and there and soaking up the vibes of the city.
While an old maritime city, Copenhagen felt new and modern …
different somehow and she could see evidence of the relaxed, happy lifestyle everywhere she went.
Like Amsterdam, cycling seemed to be the preferred mode of transportation, tiny bells tinkling but only when necessary.
As she passed a park, it was full of people picnicking under the shade of dense, bushy trees, taking time to enjoy the weather and life in general, and it wasn’t just families either.
It was groups of friends meeting at lunchtimes, not hurrying through the workday, eager to get to the end of it.
Life here, it seemed, was about taking the time to enjoy all the peaceful and quiet pleasures – the simple joys – life had to offer and not leaving them for special occasions, like weekends, birthdays or holidays.
Her pace began to slow as her temper calmed.
Had she been unfair to Theo? Perhaps she hadn’t handled the situation as sensitively as if he were a paying client, though she wasn’t about to accept total responsibility for their argument.
The points she’d made were valid and if he wasn’t going to listen then that was down to him.
But she had to live with him as well as work with him and they had to find a way to get along.
She looked up to the sun, remembering that strange moment between them when she’d almost felt herself being pulled nearer to him.
Was it the attraction constantly sparking between them that made them like this?
Was it the guilt it brought over Tom and how quickly she felt she’d gotten over their relationship?
Or was it something to do with him and whatever dark emotions had settled on him at Absalon?
Whatever it was, she had to admit she was partly to blame and that meant heading back and putting things right.
Milly turned on her heel and retraced her steps back towards the café.
She read the name again before entering, deciding on the happiness she’d embrace that evening.
She’d light a candle, read a book, maybe take a swim in the canal.
She’d take time to sit and be grateful for the life she had and this opportunity in front of her.
With a deep breath, she entered the café. Theo straightened as he saw her and immediately set to making himself a drink. In between he also took a pastry from the cooling rack, not one she’d seen him make before, and put it on a plate. He pushed it towards her over the counter.
‘What’s this?’ she asked as he set back to making himself a coffee.
‘Direkt?rsnegl known as boss snail. It’s like a chocolate cinnamon bun, only I’ve made mine with a cappuccino filling and chocolate swirl on top.’
‘Oh.’ Milly’s mouth watered and a grin spread over her face. ‘Is that a normal flavour pairing?’
‘No, it’s not. But I thought about what you said, and I had to admit, I get bored baking the same things every day. I thought this might be fun.’
‘And was it?’
‘It was.’ Their eyes met and again she felt pressure in her chest. He glanced down at the pastry expectantly. ‘So, what do you think?’
She hadn’t yet taken a bite and felt heat rise over her neck that he would watch her do it.
It looked so utterly delicious, she took a photo and video of it on her phone, then broke off a small piece and popped it in her mouth.
Her eyes widened immediately. It was even more delicious than her favourite cinnamon rolls.
The chocolate was rich and dark, complementing the lighter cappuccino flavour perfectly, and the pastry was – as always – buttery, flaky and delicious.
She watched as a grin lit Theo’s face and his eyes sparkled.
‘It’s amazing!’
‘Good.’ He turned back, putting the finishing touches to his drink.
‘More than amazing. That’s – that’s the best thing I’ve eaten in my entire life.’
His deep throaty chuckle filled the quiet space as he turned around and handed her an iced latte complete with the delicious vanilla foam she’d had before.
‘Is this for me?’
‘It is. I’m sorry – again – for getting annoyed. This place – my business – means a lot to me.’
‘Of course it does.’
‘I know I get short-tempered when I talk about it. It … hasn’t been an easy journey.’
‘I understand,’ she replied, though her curiosity was piqued. ‘But it’s a new business, isn’t it?’ He nodded. ‘And all new businesses need to find their feet.’
‘You’re right. Annoyingly,’ he added with another grin.
‘Thank you for the drink.’
As he smiled, her heart seemed to shake against her ribcage. She dropped her eyes. ‘I wanted to apologise too. For being so blunt. I should have been more sensitive to your feelings. I do know how hard this is.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’
In the silence that followed, she could almost picture the threads dancing between them. ‘So what’s the plan for this afternoon then?’ she asked hastily.
‘I don’t know. Try and get this batch of direkt?rsnegl sold, I think. I don’t really want them to go to waste.’
‘Do you have a chalkboard?’
‘Out the back,’ he replied, that small line forming between his brows again. ‘We stopped putting it out when it didn’t seem to make any difference.’
‘And chalk pens?’
He nodded.
‘Then let’s give that another go, and we can post this reel on your Instagram if you give me your login.’
He grabbed a cloth and began wiping the counter, not meeting her eye.
‘I know you haven’t used it in ages, so we can either start a new account or revamp that one. What do you want to do?’
Stopping, he looked at her. ‘What would you suggest?’
‘It’s easier to start a new one and train the algorithm afresh so I’d say start a new one.’
With an ironic chuckle he said, ‘That works for me.’
She wondered what he meant and went about setting up a new account but not before she took another look at the old one.
The first time she’d looked had been in preparation for the job.
She hadn’t really taken note before, but there were pictures of him with someone else.
A woman. A pretty, dark-haired woman. And in all the pictures he had his arm around her, smiling freely.
Who was she?
And what had happened between her and Theo? Because she wasn’t anywhere to be seen now.
‘Do you need anything from me?’ he asked, as he brought out the chalkboard and pens. She quickly swiped the screen to get rid of the smiling woman.
‘No, nothing. Just leave it with me and we’ll start getting the word out about this amazing new pastry you’ve created.’
With a grin he went about his work, and after setting up the account and posting the reel, she began on the chalkboard, drawing a picture of the pastry and writing in English what it was, making sure to write ‘exciting new flavour combination’ in big, bold letters.
Theo did the same further down in Danish, grumbling a little that it was too bold – too self-promotional – but Milly just giggled and ignored him.
The afternoon past in a flurry of activity with customers stopping in to taste the amazing new pastry.
They’d obviously seen the board from further up the road and decided to venture down even though their legs and feet were aching.
Good, thought Milly. It might mean they stay even longer to rest and order more than one cup of coffee.
By the end of the day they’d sold out of pastries and had only a few of the ‘normal’ ones left.
It was the most successful afternoon she’d seen at the café since she’d arrived, and she suspected it was even longer for Theo.
She’d been sure to grab videos of the busy café and surreptitious shots from outside of people reading the sign and deciding to walk in.
It was all good stuff she could use on the new @floatingcopenhagencafe account.
As they tidied up, both grinning and joking about the day, Theo said, ‘Before we head home we need to make a detour.’
‘Oh?’
The late afternoon was still warm, the sun high in the sky, and while she’d normally rush home straight from work, the hygge lifestyle was all about prioritising wellbeing and togetherness.
‘You’ll like it, I promise,’ he added, and together they pulled in the chalkboard, left the café and locked the door.
‘So where are we headed?’
‘Somewhere very special to Copenhagen and to me.’
‘Sounds intriguing.’
She wondered if he’d shared this sort of thing with Ada and somehow felt he hadn’t, not in the way he was with her. The thought sent a tingle down her spine.
They walked for about fifteen minutes, chatting about the day, how exhilarating it had been to have that many customers and though she gently skirted around the issue of the old Instagram account, he hadn’t volunteered any information, and she hadn’t pressed, not wanting to ruin what had been a brilliant few hours.
Eventually, they paused in front of an old red-brick stone archway.
Through the space she could see down a long path to an enormous and beautiful building.
‘Where are we?’ she asked, her eyes drinking in the view in front of her.
‘The Royal Library Garden. It’s one of my favourite places in all of Copenhagen. Shall we go in?’
‘Sure.’
She took a step forwards and her ankle turned, launching her sideways. She crashed into Theo and his hand reached around her waist to steady her. A bolt of electricity ran up her side, straight into her heart like a defibrillator resuscitating it.
‘I’m okay,’ she said, her cheeks turning pink. ‘Just lost my footing.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes, fine.’