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She grabbed onto his gloved hand, grateful for the assistance. The captain of the boat motioned to a bench for her, and she sat. The bodyguard joined her.
Shadow stood on a crate at the front of the boat and grabbed hold of the mast. “Welcome to the schooner boat excursion. I’ll be your host today. Is everyone comfortable?”
As Shadow Walker talked, she couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to feed off the group's energy. He became more animated as the crowd shouted out things to him, answering his questions and asking a few of their own. He was so different from her first impression of him. Maybe he’d been tired that day. She had no idea how long he had to travel to get there.
The boat sailed out around the island, and Shadow gave some interesting facts about Grand Cayman. She wondered if he’d looked them up himself or if the resort had sent him the things to say. After a few minutes, she noticed a bit of sweat on his jawline, and she stood, handing him the water bottle again.
“Thanks,” he said as he uncapped it and drank. This time he almost drained it. She felt terrible for him. It had to be at least eighty degrees out.
When he handed it back to her, she could have sworn he winked at her. Maybe she just imagined it. That had to be it, right? Why would a famous guy wink at her, of all people? Especially when she was doing her best impression of an old schoolmarm. Even so, her heartbeat picked up. “Do you want some sunscreen? You’re looking a bit pink.”
He seemed to appreciate her attentiveness. “I have some on. I should be fine.”
“Okay.”
The boat ride was enjoyable, and Riley quickly found herself lost in the stories about the island that Shadow told. Every once in a while, she’d hop up and hand him some lip balm or a cloth to wipe his face. She’d packed just about everything she could think of, and it paid off. By the time they got back to shore, he was smiling at her.
“Thanks for coming along on this excursion. You were a godsend,” he said as the crowd dwindled. The security guard stood off to the side as people passed. He seemed ready to intercept if anyone came too close.
“I’m glad I was helpful.” She waited as the last of the people got off the boat. It would be nice to spend more time with him. She still had no clue as to who he was or why he seemed familiar to her. If she could get him talking, maybe she could extend the time she had with him. “So, what made you decide to go into the entertainment business?”
He took a moment to think before responding. “I guess I’ve always wanted to be a singer. I love music and could never think of anything else I’d like to do. Even growing up, I never thought I’d be happy with a regular nine to five.”
“Do you write your own songs?”
“Yes, almost all of them. I get presented with a lot of songs now that I’ve made a name for myself. ‘Every Part of Me’ was written by someone else. I liked the message of the song. But mostly, I write my own. I love the creative process. There’s just something about crafting words into a story that is thrilling to me.”
She could relate. Not that she was able to write anything artistic like Shadow. But she did want to write articles that mattered someday. She didn’t want to be a tabloid reporter forever. “I totally get that,” she found herself saying before she could stop herself.
He leaned on the mast. “Do you write?”
Oh, great. Why did she say that? Now she had to make up something. “A little.” Wow. Maybe she could just tell him she was a tabloid reporter. Why were these words coming out of her? Lucky for her, the crowd had all dispersed, and they were next to get off the boat. She didn’t wait for him but headed to the ladder to climb down. After she was on the dock, she watched Shadow jump easily down. He had a grace to him that she couldn’t explain. He looked quite physically fit.
“A little? What does that mean?” Even with his mask on, he looked genuinely interested in her answer.
Okay, she really had to make something up now, or she was going to out herself big time. “I mean, I used to do some writing…like novels and stuff. But I’ve been busy lately.” Novels and stuff? Oh, brother. She was so dead.
“What kind of novels?” He seemed to slow down as they walked. She took it to mean he wanted to keep talking to her, which was insane. Why would he want to talk to her? It had to be her imagination.
But now she had to figure out what kind of imaginary novels she’d been writing. If she were to write a book, what would it be about? As she wracked her brain, all thoughts of books left her. She couldn’t remember the last novel she’d even read. Why couldn’t she come up with anything believable?
The seconds ticked by and she needed to answer him. A man came out of the resort. He was dressed all in white. It reminded her of a show she watched once with a ghost who wore all white.
Sweat beaded up on her forehead. “Stories about ghosts and stuff. Silly junk. Nothing important.”
“Ghosts? Like, horror?”
Crud. She didn’t know anything about horror novels. How could she lie about something like that? “No,” She heard herself saying. Why was it so hard to lie right now? She wasn’t usually this awkward.
“Paranormal romance?”
Heat assaulted her face. Why were they still talking about the fake novels she hadn’t written? She needed to change the subject. Maybe it was best to just say yes. “Something like that.”
“But you don’t anymore.” He looked at her. “Because of your sick father?”
Ugh. Talking about her father was worse. She didn’t want to talk about her father to a famous singer. He didn’t care. Why was he even asking? She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Do you mind if I ask what illness he has?”
