“Steph. Stephanie.”
He stared at me for a moment before smirking. He tipped the glass. “I’ll be seein’ ya…Stephanie.” He enunciated the last part of my name with extra emphasis.
I bunched my coverup near my neck, and after one last moment of staring at him, I turned away.
The crowd in the swim-up bar had thinned out. Sara’s infectious laugh echoed through the open space. It never failed to put a smile on my face. I waded over to her with the remainder of my drink in hand.
“Well, hey there. Who was that guy you were talking to?” Sara asked, chewing on her straw.
I risked a glance over my shoulder, looking at the empty stools of the bar. He was gone. A peculiar disappointment washed over me. “Oh, just a guy who calls himself Hades.”
“Hades? Is it a nickname, or does he truly think he’s some kind of Greek god? I’ve met plenty of men with that complex.”
“Does it matter? I came here to have fun and relax with my best friend. Not hook up with a random stranger.”
“Oh, yeah?” She asked, right as two men walked up.
“A whiskey Coke and a gin and tonic,” one man ordered. He had blonde hair cropped short with a thin, but toned physique. His accent sounded American. Mid-west maybe?
“See something you like?” The blonde man said, making me choke on my drink.
Every time I was out in public, I tended to people watch, profile them. It was par for the course with my profession. I was always trying to figure out people’s dirty laundry. I scanned his arms, noting a maple leaf tattoo with swirling patterns intertwined.
“I was just looking at your tattoo. Any symbolic meaning?” I didn’t move my eyes from his and attempted to fish for the straw with my mouth, missing it twice.
He looked down at his bicep and patted the tattoo, smiling brightly. “A patriotic symbol for my country is all.”
Sara snapped her fingers. “Canadian. I thought I recognized the accent. We’re close to your border. Chicago.”
We lived in a town called Des Plaines, but it was easier to say Chicago. Close enough and widely known.
Sara leaned past me, extending her hand. “I’m Sara. And this here is Stephanie.”
There she went being all social.
The blonde chuckled and shook her hand. “I’m Keith, and this is Guy.” Guy sounded more like ‘Gee’. “We’re from around Ontario.”
“Chicago, huh? I’ve always wanted to go there,” Guy said, moving through the water to get closer to Sara. He was the polar opposite of Keith. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a deeply tanned complexion. His hair was long but pulled into a tight bun at the base of his neck.
“Oh? What part of the city interests you the most?” Sara asked, turning on her stool to face him.
“Are you two here together?” Keith asked.
“Yup.” I took a sip of my drink. “As friends. I mean, we’re not—not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just didn’t want you to assume—”
He lifted his aviator sunglasses onto his head, nestling them within the blonde spikes. “Well, good. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t stepping on any toes.” He smiled wide. “What are you drinking?”
“Piña colada.” I rested the empty cup on the bar top while Keith flagged down the tender. My eyes betrayed me, looking at the bar for Hades again.
His smile deepened as he handed me another cup of coconut bliss. “Love the anchor on your suit there.”
“The what?” Right. The anchor. I gave a nervous chuckle. “Thanks.”
He bit down on his lower lip, letting his gaze rest on my nether regions longer than necessary. “So, what do you do for a living?” He breached my invisible shield, shifting himself closer.
I leaned back. “I’m a digital forensics examiner for the state police.”
His brows rose. “Can’t say I know what the hell that even is. Sorry.” He laughed.
“It’s forensics. Just the digital side of it. Computers and such. No stepping over dead bodies or studying blood spray patterns.”
He stared at me, nodding.
I smirked. “I hack things.” Hacking was not part of my job in the least, but the media had glorified it. It was the one area of cybersecurity I knew people were familiar with.
His eyes widened. “Oh, wow! That’s awesome. What’s been your biggest case?”
The Fueller case. I’d managed to forget about it. I gulped down my drink, hoping it would help flee it away from my thoughts.
“We’re going to be late for scuba diving if we don’t haul ass, Keith-ster.” Guy slapped Keith on the back.
“Hey, it was great talking to you. We’re only here all week, so I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” Keith smiled, slipping his aviators onto his face.
My knee bounced underwater, and I offered a weak grin. Mrs. Conroy’s sad face loomed over me like a raincloud.
“Guy seemed nice enough,” Sara said, tapping her fingernail against her cup.
“Uh, huh,” I muttered.
“Hey.” She turned my chin to look at her. “Time for a toast.”
She always knew how to snap me out of it.
“What are we toasting?” I asked.
“To meeting the god of the Underworld.”
I burst into laughter. “To Hades.”
We tapped our cups together.
We were up at the crack of dawn the next day because neither of us could sleep. We could rest when we were dead. Paradise called. Sara convinced me to wear my cranberry-colored bikini, but I insisted on a swim coverup for our walk to the pool. And had every intention of wearing it the entire time. Like a passing shadow, Hades slipped onto the same stool he sat on yesterday, at the same bar, dressed in the same clothes. I couldn’t look away. An older woman dressed in a resort uniform was talking to him. She flailed her hands around, her jaw quivering like she was about to cry.
He held his head low, nodding as the woman spoke. If I had a nickel for every time I wished I could read lips. She slapped her palm onto the bar top. He slid his hand over hers, and she closed her eyes. Her body relaxed, and he slipped his hand away. The woman laughed and kissed his forehead before walking away.
“Why don’t you meet me by the pool?” Sara asked.
“Hm, what?”
She jutted her chin at Hades. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that’s the guy who calls himself Hades?”
I played with one of the rhinestones on the side of my sunglasses. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“Take as much time as you want. I’ll probably fall asleep by the pool anyway.” She grinned and patted my shoulder.
The blackness still loomed over him, but unlike yesterday, bursts of pastel colors appeared as if trying to break through. Those bursts are what piqued my interest and wouldn’t let me turn away.
I leaned next to him. We were the only ones at the bar, which wasn’t surprising considering how early it was. “I didn’t peg you for the older woman type.”
He eyed me sidelong. “I wasn’t courtin’ that woman. And she’s not older. She’s an infant by comparison.”
“Courting? My, my, how formal.” The bartender rested a tumbler in front of him with the same brown liquid as yesterday. “An infant through wisdom or something?”