“Maybe we’re close. She’s the only person you drew. In the other sketches of this beach, you left out the people.”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “It’s more peaceful without them. I don’t usually draw people. Or I didn’t. When I was studying and we used models, I’d end up reading them. It’s the focus, and it always felt so intrusive. I learned how to block it out, but it didn’t seem worth the effort. I like the mystery of a scene empty of people.”
She propped her chin on her fist, smiled at him. “You like scenes full of people.”
Conversations—something she’d avoided tucked away in the mountains—took a different tone, had a new appeal, when she had them with someone who knew what she was, and accepted.
“And how would you know?”
“Clubs,” she explained. “You own clubs, and perform, so you must like people. And audiences who marvel at your magic tricks.”
“I can appreciate an empty beach as well. But . . .” He held up a hand, empty palm toward her, closed it into a fist, flashed out his other hand. Then offered her a curved white shell from his once-empty palm. “I like the marvel.”
She laughed, shook her head. “How do you do that?”
“Nothing up my sleeve.”
“And no smoke and mirrors around either.” She traced the edges of the shell. “How did you learn to do magic?”
“You could say it’s a family tradition. My mother actually taught me my first . . . bit.”
“Your mother. Does she perform, too?”
“In her way.” Because he liked her laugh, he took a deck of cards from his pack, fanned them out. “Pick a card, any card.”
She drew one out, glanced at it. “Now what?”
“Back in it goes, and you take the deck. Shuffle it up. We should reward ourselves with a swim at the end of the day. Which would you pick, sea or pool?”
“The sea.” If no one else was on the beach, she added to herself. “How often will I have the chance to swim in the Ionian? Is that enough?”
“It is, sure, if it feels enough for you. Set the deck down again, and fan it out yourself.”
She did as he instructed, leaned forward, eyes sharp.
“Now where do you suppose your card might be. Here?” he tapped a card. “No, no, maybe here. Ah, here comes our Riley.”
“Playing cards and drinking beer, while I’ve been sweating over a hot cell phone.” She dropped down, picked up what was left of Bran’s beer, and drained it.
“He’s doing a card trick, but I don’t think it’s working out for him.”
“Such lack of faith and wonder.” Bran sighed. He ran a fingertip along the fanned cards. “Not here or there at all, it seems, because . . . Do you mind?” he said to Riley and took the hat from her head, turned it over. “Your Queen of Hearts is in Riley’s hat.”
Sasha’s eyes widened. “That’s not possible.”
“And yet it is.” He held up the queen between two fingers, turned his hand at the wrist, and held nothing.
“I’ve gotta say,” Riley commented as Sasha gaped. “That’s some of the best close-up magic I’ve seen. I also have to say I’ve done some magic of my own. We’ve got a place if we want it.”
“How did the card get in Riley’s hat when she wasn’t here?” Sasha demanded.
“But she is here, and she’s polished off my beer.”
“But . . .” Then with a laugh, Sasha held up her hands in surrender. “I want to see you do it again when— Did you say you found a place?”
“Yeah, and that earns me a beer of my own. But I’ll wait until we get there, take a look at it. It’s not far. Just outside of Sidari.”
“I saw Sidari on the map—west of here.”
“You got it. I had some luck.” Now Riley reached out, took a long sip of Sasha’s juice. “Friend of a friend of an uncle. It’s his villa, and he’s in the States on business for the next few weeks. His lucky day, too, as the couple who was caretaking the place had to leave just yesterday. Guy took a bad fall, broke his leg. So the friend of a friend of an uncle says we can use the place if we do the caretaking thing.”
“What does that mean, exactly?” Bran asked.
“Yard work, gardening, maintaining the pool—did I mention there’s a pool? There’s also a dog—so feed and water—and chickens.”
“Chickens?” Sasha repeated.
“Feed and water again, and help ourselves to the eggs. We take care, we stay for free until he gets back in about four weeks. Sounds like a hell of a deal to me.”
“We should certainly have a look.” Bran put his cards back in their case. “Ready for it?”
Nodding, Sasha got to her feet. “I think I could live with staying at a villa on the Ionian Sea. It’s just when things sound too good to be true . . .”
“There’s usually a catch.” Bran stood, took her hand. “Why don’t we go find the catch, see if we can live with whatever it might be.”