“Okay,” he says. “You caught me. My mom designed the mosaic floor in the ballroom of the hotel. This tattoo is sort of a tribute to her.”
“But that’s amazing,” I say. “She was an artist who worked at the hotel?”
He hesitates. “Yes. That’s how she arrived in Seascape Bay, as an artist. A hippy, my dad would’ve called her. She was always a free spirit…Anyway, the mermaid fresco was the inspiration for this tattoo. I just don’t usually talk about it. My mom was very special to me, and I lost her early. ”
“I’m sorry,” I say. Unsure how he could avoid talking about something as noticeable as his tattoo.
“It’s okay.” But it doesn’t seem okay. He’s as closed up as I was earlier, and I don’t have the confidence to try to pull him out of it. I don’t know how to initiate another kiss, though I’m willing him to kiss me again, to realize how much I want it.
He looks at me, and for a moment it’s like he’s reading my mind. He does know. Of course he knows. This is a guy who knows how to read women.
His face closes, and he turns away.
We walk back to the hotel together. I feel like this lunch was some type of test, but I can’t be sure if either of us passed it. I can’t be sure of anything.
“I like you,” he says, shocking me with his straightforwardness. “You aren’t like the other girls up at the hotel.”
I hope my only difference isn’t that I’m not cut out for wearing revealing clothing or dancing provocatively, or flirting. I’ve never been very good at flirting.
“How am I different?” I ask, when he doesn’t seem inclined to complete the thought.
“You care,” he says. “You’ve only been here a couple of days, and you’re already attached to the old place, aren’t you?”
I nod, slowly. Being thrown in as manager might have something to do with that. Or it might just be me. I’ve always liked to improve things around me.
“I like this hotel,” I tell him. “I could come to love it, I think. I want to make it better. No matter whether I’ve only worked here a few days, or I stay for a long time, I want the place to be better because of my influence.”
“You get a glow when you talk about the hotel,” he observes.
I’m guessing that’s just me constantly flushing under his scrutiny, but I can’t be sure.
“I’ve lived here my whole life, and I don’t care about things the way you do.” His voice has changed, and how he sounds accusing.
I’m not sure what to say. “Not everyone cares about these old properties, these resorts with history,” I say slowly. “But I think they have a lot of value.”
“Mr. Bancroft was lucky to find an employee like you.” He turns away, like he can’t stand looking at me for a second longer.
“Thanks for the lunch,” I say to his retreating back.
“Any time,” he calls over his shoulder. But his words are swallowed by the sound of the ocean, I can’t be sure if he really said it, or if it was just my imagination.
Chapter 5
I slip back into the hotel, completely deflated. I thoroughly enjoyed our lunch conversation, and Cruise’s company, not to mention that unexpected kiss. I wish I could understand why things changed so rapidly, as we walked back up to the hotel. Why he said he liked me, and then seemed angry when we discussed why. Also, some vain part of me hoped that he liked me because he found me amusing and attractive, not because I was obsessed with the hotel where he rents a villa. What a joke. I’m finally starting to see how people get carried away by passion. Our kiss probably wasn’t even special to him, though I’m going to be thinking about it, reliving it, for a very long time.
I’m walking through the bar, checking on patrons, when Nick, the bartender gestures for me to join him. I walk over, wondering what he needs. He leans across the bar.
He’s the only male bartender I’ve seen working at the Seascape. He was on duty my first night, and who was playing cards with Adrian.
“Do you like to party?” he asks.
I hope this isn’t some sort of code for wanting to sell me drugs, because I would have to report that to Mr. Bancroft.
“Not particularly,” I say coolly. My go-to response for uncomfortable flirtation and awkward pick up lines.
He gives me a look that says he agrees. “Well, my boy Cruise wants you to come by his place tonight. He thinks you might like to party.”
A million emotions crowd into my mind. First, there’s anticipation. How could there not be, after the kiss we shared at the Clam Shack? Then there’s anxiety. He didn’t seem so friendly when he walked away from me today. I recall his worried expression. The way he said I wasn't like the other girls around here. He knows he’s going to hurt me. And I know I’m going to go to him, regardless.
No matter how confused I am about Cruise’s invitation, I’m aware enough to remember that Nick lied to me.