Following Serena’s direction, I take us on a winding path through the city, but I’m impressed by how Serena handles herself. I glance over at her now and then, and I can see she’s scared, but she keeps herself calm on the surface. Her eyes go to the mirror periodically, but she knows better than to be obvious. She’s strong. She’s had to be strong for so long. She shouldn’t have to be.
It takes us about half an hour out of the way, but around the third time I check the mirror and see nothing there, I hear Serena say cautiously, “I think you lost them.”
“Yes,” I say, turning onto a road to take us back toward where I still plan on taking her. “You shouldn’t have to worry about all that.”
“You seem pretty used to it,” she says, and I watch her eyes move up and down me swiftly.
“Yes,” I say, letting the matter rest there as I speed us toward the aquarium.
Sometime later, we come to a halt in the crowded parking lot.
Even as I get out of the car, my eyes are scanning the lot to see if we’ve been followed despite my efforts. The thought of work intruding on my time with Serena is infuriating, but not as infuriating as the thought of her getting hurt.
My glance around the lot is subtle, but as I walk around the car to Serena, I feel her meaningful squeeze on my arm, and I look down at her. She’s smiling up and me, and I know she’s telling me silently not to worry.
I give a smile back, but that won’t make my demons go away so easily.
Inside the aquarium, oddly, the sights and sounds of a big and happy crowd puts me a little more at ease, and I can enjoy the feeling of the temperature-controlled rooms with slightly dimmed lighting.
It’s a beautiful place. After stopping by the ticket booth, it’s Serena who takes the lead, dragging me to the nearest exhibits that catch her eye, growing more excited with each minute that goes by. While soft, happy music plays all around us, we make our way around some of the big and small glass tanks.
“Bruno Bruno Bruno oh my God!” she squeals, her arm half-submerged in one of the open touch pools. I step up beside her to see her gently touching a brightly-colored starfish that’s lazing on the bottom.
“What’s the matter?” I chuckle, raising an eyebrow at her.
“It feels weeeeird,” she half-whispers, as if not wanting to offend the aquarium worker hovering around.
“You never felt a starfish before?” I say, a grin spreading across my face.
“You have?!” she shoots back.
I roll up my sleeve and sink my thick arm into the water, and I notice the worker glancing at me uneasily. I guess I look more likely to break something than Serena’s small hand. I give the man a wink and turn my attention back to Serena.
“I grew up on the coast. We used to go swimming and find sea urchins and other things. You can let them crawl on your hand, if you’re careful.”
“Wow,” she says, “I only ever went swimming in a public pool. You uh, really don’t want to pick up anything you find at the bottom of those.”
I chuckle, and we soon move on, drying our hands with cheap little paper towels.
As we walk, Serena slips her arm through mine, sighing gently as we stroll past the exhibits, and her eyes are wide as we walk through the glass tunnel that lets sea life float lazily all around us. I stand a head taller than most of the people around us, and I have a look about me that makes most people give us all the space we need.
I find myself watching her more than any of the fish, though. I didn’t think an aquarium was all that special, but she seems really swept up in the atmosphere of the place. As her eyes travel around the half-cylinder of the tunnel, they fall on me, and she blushes as she realizes I’m looking at her. “Stop! Look at the fish,” she playfully whines, and I give her hand a squeeze as we move on.
When I’m not looking at Serena, though, I’m glancing over my shoulder, at every corner, half-expecting to see someone following us. It would be beyond stupid for anyone to follow us in here, but I can’t help but look.
Our walk soon takes us into a wide, very dark room, the only illumination coming from the soft blue glow of the tanks around us. The ceiling is low, and the only sound is the gentle droning of the machinery that keeps the place running. Only a handful of people wander around here—I suspect there’s a show going on somewhere drawing most of the day-crowd.
As we walk, Serena’s eyes are drawn to the beautiful displays of sea life floating around in view, but I catch her glancing at me from time to time. She’s a perceptive girl. I know she can sense my tension, as much as I try to hide it. We walk across the soft carpet to one of the windows, peering out into the blue, fuzzy space beyond, and I feel her squeeze my arm.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
“Is something up? You seem kind of…”
I give her a tight smile. “I don’t like being tailed, Serena.”
“Not just that,” she says, shaking her head, and I can see those round eyes looking straight through me. She can read me like an open book, as closed as I try to keep myself. “You’ve been tense all day. Did something happen at that meeting you had to run off to?”
“Serena, I don’t want to worry you with business.”
“Don’t say that,” she says softly, those beautiful eyes watching a shark glide around the bottom of its tank, “that’s what Dad used to say all the time.”
I’m silent for a few moments, but then she turns her head to look at me, a smile on her lips. “If you can trust me to lose someone tailing us, you can trust me with anything else that’s going on, I think.”
If you only knew the half of it.
I give her a sad smile, looking down at her, watching the wavy light reflecting off the water dance across her face, her hair, those eyes. “It isn’t that I don’t want to talk business because I don’t trust you, Serena,” I say, enveloping her hand in mine. I turn and take her small chin in my free hand, stroking her jaw with my thumb as she smiles up at me. “You thrive even though everything is stacked against you. You own a business. You’re a survivor. And you’re better than all this—that’s why I don’t want you getting wrapped up in anything dangerous.”
She sets her hand on my hip, feeling the strong muscles under my tight-fitting shirt. “I’ve got you here, though,” she says, her eyes playful, lidded, a smile creeping over those lips. “As long as you’re with me, Bruno, it’s kinda hard to feel like anything could hurt me. I saw what you did in the shop. I feel...well, safe when you’re around.”
I feel warmth spreading through my chest, and I can’t help but smile in pride. I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her protectively as the scent of her hair fills my nostrils. “You know how naive that sounds, passerotta mia,” I say, only half-seriously, and she looks up at me with a challenging smile.
“Don’t give me that,” she says, her Italian blood showing, “you and I both know how well we work together.”
I feel a chuckle escaping me, and I bring my face close to hers as I rumble, “All too well, Serena.”
Our lips meet.