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I throw my flip-flops on the ground and push my feet into them. “When I launched Bespoke Adventures, I bought a private island off the coast and started the tours there.”
Her gaze meets mine. “Do you still own the island?”
I kiss her mouth. “I do. It’s become rather popular. We didn’t go there because it’s booked right now, and I didn’t think you wanted to expose our connection to my staff.”
She looks away. It’s still something we disagree on. “It’s not that I want to hide our connection exactly, but it could become awkward for everyone.”
I let it go. We agreed to ten days of challenging each other. Spending time away from leading tours will be good. I’ve become bored lately and want to push into new endeavors.
Imogen stops walking when we reach the sidewalk. “What are you thinking about?”
I put my arm around her shoulders and turn away from the sun. “I’m enjoying playing tourist with you. I normally stay on my own properties, not at hotels. But I haven’t been to Belize in many months.”
She crosses her arms. “So, you don’t normally teach surfing?”
I touch her lower back to guide her toward the restaurant. “No, I leave it to those who love it. I normally do more one-off adventures.”
I open the door for her, and a server immediately greets us, pointing to a small table on the outside porch.
Imogen sits and glances at the menu. “This is lovely. Instead of eating breakfast with a warm breeze from the ocean, I’d be bundled up riding the subway to work right now.”
I nod. “It’s a different life. I know some of my employees miss their families.”
She hands the menu to the waitress and says, “Could I have the eggs benedict and a coffee, please?”
“The same for me.” I give the server my menu, and she pours coffee for both of us.
Immy looks out at the water. “Being far from New York is the one downside. If I do this work, I’ll miss my sisters. But Kate returns every few months and for longer stretches in the summer.”
“Most of my employees are in their thirties. They started traditional careers and then wanted something different. The schedule allows for frequent time off. When you’re leading a tour, it’s twenty-four hours a day. Depending on the season, it could be forty-five days on and then thirty days off.”
She takes a sip of coffee. “That appeals to me. It must be impossible to get stuck in a rut.”
“If someone gets tired of the Caribbean or its off-season, there are tours in Alaska or Italy.” I feel like a salesman and stop.
Imogen looks at me. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, thank you.”
I feel a tightening in my chest. I’m not sure what she expects from me. I can’t believe I’ve taken time away from work to play tourist with someone. But Imogen Smith fascinates me. Even the graceful way she smiles at me when she sips her coffee. I love how responsive she is when I touch her, and I like that she isn’t smug about her intellect. She is super smart and well-educated but somehow doesn’t make anyone in her orbit feel unworthy. She can easily talk to a bus driver or my mother, who does tend to make others feel inadequate.
“Are we wearing swimsuits for snorkeling? The water seems warm.”
The server interrupts and places our plates in front of us. “Do you need anything?”
I shake my head. “We’re good.”
Imogen smiles. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was. This looks delicious.”
I take a bite of the egg. “The water is warm but not body temperature, so if you wear a wetsuit, you can snorkel much longer. We could stay out for two hours instead of thirty minutes.”
She nods. “When I went diving, I found the wetsuit took a while to get on and off.”
I continue eating. “There are other reasons. A tight-fitting wetsuit protects you from stinging creatures and reduces the threat of sunburn. Sunscreen in the water is harmful to coral.”
She smiles. “You’ve convinced me. Wetsuit it is.”
I shrug. “I do like the idea of watching you swim in a bikini or nothing at all.”
Her cheeks get pink. “Probably not a good idea.”
