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He took the few steps toward Eloise and her smile widen. “Hi again,” she said.
“Hey. I see you’re painting again.”
Geez! What in the hell is wrong with you?
“Always. It’s my thing. How’s vacation treating you?”
She has a thing. Did he have one? No, he didn’t and thought maybe he should.
“No complaints. Minus the weather. What do you do when it’s raining?” he asked her.
“I have a studio at home.” Eloise stood and began packing. He looked at the time on his phone and deduced she worked outside until dinner and then went home. He would have to be early next time because he was determined to talk to her for longer than five minutes.
“Do you need any help?” He pointed to her things.
Eloise glanced his way, smiled, and shook her head. “I’ve got it.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder and dangled the canvas from her fingertips. “See ya around, Kiel Collier.”
She remembered my name!
“Where?” he asked, his voice laced with desperation.
“Seaport isn’t that big. You’ll find me.”
“So, you’ve said. Where do I look?”
Eloise giggled, winked and walked away, leaving him speechless. The smart thing to do would be to follow her, walk beside her, and that was his plan until his phone chimed with a text from his dad with their pizza order.
five
Of course, Kiel Collier showed up when she had finished for the day. Eloise could've easily stayed, but for some odd reason, she loved the cat-and-mouse game they played. Well, it really wasn't much of a game since they had only seen each other one other time thanks to the epically crapstastic weather they’d had for a couple of days, but still . . . whatever spark they had on the first night was still there.
After Eloise arrived home, she showered and scrubbed her skin raw in an effort to rid herself of paint. She’d never understand how she gets paint in the places she did. Someone needed to explain to her how she had dabs of red, yellow, and orange on her stomach when she wore overalls. Or how the paint ended up on the top of her head when she kept her hair in a bun. It wasn't like she stuck her paint brush in there like some did with pencils, or scratched her head in thought while contemplating her next color.
Free from any paint splotches, she finished her shower, got out, and dried off. Before dressing, she grabbed her phone and started a new message to Tidal. Three words in, she deleted it and set her phone down. Eloise wanted to go out but going out with Tidal or even Fraser could send the wrong message. She wasn't interested in a relationship unless it was with a canvas and paint brush. She had one goal—turn the heads of buyers and possibly someone who would want to commission her for a job.
Eloise riffled through her suitcase. She hadn't unpacked yet and kept telling herself she would in the morning. It had been a week of failed mornings, mostly because the sunrise was too good to miss. And then there was coffee with her aunt, stopping by the florist next to the gallery to pick up fresh cut flowers, the list went on and on.
She sat on the floor and sighed. “Ugh, fine. I'll do it tomorrow.” If she said it out loud, her words would be in the universe and she'd have no choice.
She found a pair of ripped, cut-off jean shorts and a distressed tank to put on. There wasn't much of a dress code for any of the bars in Seaport, but she also didn't want to dress like she was looking for someone. even though she was. Deep down, she hoped Kiel would be out at the bars. If he was in town visiting, he most likely would venture downtown where the subdued night scene was. Seaport lacked a the club scene but had great tiki bars and tourist traps. Namely, the Sea Shanty. It was absolutely the best place to get a Pina Colada, but after that, it was a mess. A meat market of sorts. If you wanted a hookup, you went there. It was also the place tourists frequented because it was by far the most popular place on the island.
She dressed, put on a little make-up to give her face a sun-kissed look, and then added some mousse to her damp hair and used her fingers to twist her waves into curls. By the end of the night, her hair would be in a bun and no one, including her, would care what it looked like.
On her way out, she contemplated telling her aunt she was leaving, but opted for a text message instead. If her aunt was painting, she didn't want to disturb her. Margaux's methods differed from Eloise's. Whereas Eloise loved being outside, among people, Margaux preferred solitude and quiet.
The text was simple: I'm heading downtown. My location services are on.
Seaport was one of the safest places in the United States, but that didn't mean people weren't assholes. Eloise never thought twice about walking from her aunt's to downtown or walking home in the wee hours of the morning. This wasn't one of those places where you had to constantly look over your shoulder to see if you're being followed. While she knew this, Eloise still practiced as many safety precautions as she could.
Each street she crossed, she looked down the road and wondered if this was where Kiel was staying for the duration of his vacation. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that she wanted to run into him tonight. Words replayed in her mind of what she would say to him and how they'd finally have a full conversation instead of skirting the edges. Of course, she could always stay and talk, but each time they'd run into each other, it always seemed like he had somewhere to go.
Eloise came to the corner, where the shops on Bellevue started, and cut across the street and headed down one of the side roads to walk among history. Homes and boutiques in structures from the sixteen hundreds lined the narrow road. She stopped and read the placards, most of which she had memorized back in middle school. It had been a school project—learn everything they could about one house. Eloise researched every house on the block and even drew what they would’ve looked like when they were first built. Her above and beyond approach to the assignment wasn’t well received by her teacher or classmates.
She passed the old church on the square, with its white picket fence, and continued until she came to the streetlight. Another turn and she found herself in front of the theater. It was haunted, despite some ghost adventurer stating otherwise. There wasn’t a resident on the island that believed any of the TV shows that came to town to film. They all knew the actress who had died there still sat in seat 3A for every show. Eloise scanned the marque and noted the upcoming shows. Maybe Margaux would go with her.
Downtown bustled with activity. Eloise laughed when the Buzz Bus drove by with its patrons hanging out of the windows, cheering, and chugging whatever they had in their hands. She waved, giggled, and saw the cases of beer and hard seltzer piled high behind the driver. Before she moved away, she and her friends had planned to hire the Buzz Bus for each of their twenty-first birthdays. The company gave people a safe way to drink, party, and bar hop.
When she passed the pier, she waved at Dune Carter as he closed up his adventure stand for the night. Being the older brother of her friends Tidal and Sail, he was rarely around or if he was, he wasn’t willing to hang out with teens. Growing up in Seaport, Blue Lobster Adventures was always a prominent business. Over the years, it had clearly flourished and had become the premier company for anything tour related.
