Mark shrugged and gave an exaggerated frown as a response. The woman turned back to James.
“No, I’m pretty sure there’s not. But I don’t really know. You could ask in the app, though.”
James thought about whatever he saw on the north side of the island. Probably just some maintenance person working on the buildings. Nothing to get hung up on … but he didn’t think he wanted to film up there.
James got his things out of the locker, dunking his shirt in the ocean to help him cool off, and bought himself a bottle of water so exorbitantly overpriced he considered drinking out of the ocean. He sat down in the shade of a tree and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Nothing from Steve. He started to type out something, then stopped. Steve hadn’t tried to contact him yet, despite James’ traveling. Wouldn’t the polite thing be for Steve to text first, ask how things were going? James deleted the message. He could hold out and wait for Steve to finally be the bigger person for once.
He took a swig from his water bottle and tried not to think about it.
I’m here. He’s not. That’s just how things are, and I’m going to have a good time.
James decided on two other locations he’d noticed during his ride to film a batch of illusion videos. The first was an isolated part of the island near the dormitories where no one else congregated, and the other just south of that along the beach where several bars hosted dozens of people getting drunk enough to shed their inhibitions and participate in a trick. He got all the shots he needed of himself alone to splice together later for a more involved levitation and disappearance illusion, with an envy-inducing backdrop of sunrise orange hibiscus plants and an ocean view that stretched unbroken for eternity and then headed toward the bars.
“Excuse me, would you be interested in being in a video for a magic trick?” he asked the first group of sun kissed women he encountered sitting along a bamboo bar. Any other day, James offered up money to incentivize people to participate—and keep his secrets if the trick mostly involved video editing—but he knew that wouldn’t work here. Rather, he hoped that the bartenders poured hard and tried to be as inviting as possible.
The women smiled and looked to one another to see if they thought he was serious. Then a strawberry blond in a blue top shrugged. “What do we have to do?”
James pulled out his phone and handed it to another one of the women to film. He instructed his new assistant to stand with him in the shot.
“Just stay calm and enjoy yourself, okay? This is all for fun. Now, what’s your name?”
“Becca.”
“Where are you from, Becca?”
“Boca Raton.”
“And are you enjoying yourself here so far?”
Becca looked to her friends for an answer, but they all laughed at her for agreeing to be in the video. “Uh, yeah, I’m enjoying myself.”
“Are you here with anyone special, Becca?”
Becca shook her head, but her smile never faltered.
“You’re here without a special someone? Well, maybe I can make you feel special,” James said, flicking his wrist and revealing a perfect red rose from seemingly thin air.
Becca’s jaw dropped and her friends gasped. She reached out for the rose, but before she could put fingers on the stem, James drew his hand back.
“Wait now, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea, we’re just friends here.”
He flicked his wrist again, shaking the color out of the rose to make it yellow.
“What?” Becca said, drawing out the vowel in disbelief.
“How’d you do that?” one of her friends asked.
This time when she reached for the rose, James allowed her to take it.
“Becca, what do you do back home in Boca Raton?”
“I’m a makeup artist,” she said, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. She’d warmed up to him now.
“Oh, you’re a makeup artist. Is that why you’re here? Are you pretty well known for that?”
Becca shrugged. “Who knows why any of us are here?” she said and laughed hard, knocking loose the hair she’d tucked behind her ear.
“Well, if you’re famous, do you think I could get your autograph?”
