“You work six days a week?” I asked.
“Most of the time. Sometimes, I take a Monday or Tuesday off, but during our busy season, it is usually six days.”
I slowly nodded, having a newfound respect for her and the work she did. “I had no idea a party planner worked that hard.”
She made a choking sound. “We work our asses off.”
“Where are we going?” I asked when I noticed she wasn’t taking the usual route to the garden.
“I wanted to show you something,” she answered.
“If this was reversed, me taking you to some off-the-beaten-path place, it would be the premise of a horror film.”
She laughed as she started to walk a little faster. “I promise I will not violate your body in any way.”
“Too bad,” I mumbled under my breath.
Her head whipped around to look at me. “My goodness—” She stopped talking. “I get that you want privacy and you are a closed book, but can I at least know your name?”
I chuckled at the fact she only then realized we didn’t know each other’s names. It had certainly taken her long enough. “My name is Xander Holland.”
She stopped walking and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you Xander. Officially, that is. My name is Evie Marsh.”
“Evie, where are we going?”
“Just a little farther,” she promised. “The view is gorgeous and there are not a lot of people up here.”
“Why are you wearing sandals?” I questioned.
She looked down at her feet as if she just realized they were there. “I always wear sandals.”
“Even to go hiking?”
“This isn’t hiking,” she said with a laugh. “It’s a nice walk. The sandals are comfortable. Far more comfortable than the heels I usually wear.”
I shrugged. “If you say so.”
We continued walking up a slight incline. I couldn’t remember ever visiting this particular section of the park. It was pretty. It was calming—minus the endless chatter from my walking companion.
“It’s just up here,” she pointed.
I didn’t know what it was, but this was her show. I was only along for the ride. We rounded a corner and came upon several benches set apart from one another. An older couple was sitting on one of the benches and looking over the view that stretched out below. She took a seat on the bench farthest from the couple and patted the spot next to her.
“Is this what you brought me here for?” I asked.
She smiled and pushed up her sunglasses. I did the same. The area was shaded and provided a nice place to cool down after the rather brisk hike up the hill. “Yes and no. Don’t you ever just like to sit and be?”
“I think I do that pretty often,” I replied.
“Outside?” she questioned.
I grinned. “I have a pretty nice backyard.” I didn’t go into details, but my backyard rivaled the park in my opinion. I didn’t have acres of gardens, but I had the ocean and that was better than anything else.
She rolled her pretty blue eyes that were as blue as the ocean on some days. “Your backyard is not the same as this.”
I wrinkled my nose. “It’s pretty damn close.”
She looked skeptical. “What exactly is it you do?”
“I’m an engineer,” I answered. “I design ships.”
“Aren’t ships pretty basic?” she questioned.
I smiled. I loved to talk about my work. Few people, besides those that were interested in buying my ships to increase profits, really understood or cared. “Yes and no. I design ships made with materials that are much lighter. The usual ships are made of heavy steel. Because they are so heavy, the ships can’t carry much cargo.”
“Because they would sink,” she said with a nod.
“Yes. My ships are lighter, a little smaller, but yet, they carry more cargo. Because they are lighter and smaller, they use less fuel.”
She smiled. “Well, aren’t you a smarty pants?”
I shrugged. “Maybe not smart but forward thinking. Too many people get stuck in the way things are and don’t know how or don’t want to look forward.”
“Why boats?” she asked. “You are a forward thinker, so why not solar energy or something like that?”
“There are lots of people working on solar energy and I like boats.”
“Do you own a boat?”
I had to smile. “I do.”
“Like a little speedboat or a big boat?”
“It’s not a yacht, but it isn’t a speedboat.”
“So, a big boat.”
I had to laugh at her persistence. “It’s a good-size boat. I could probably live on it if I needed to.”
She nodded, seeming to file away the information. “Would you like to show me your boat?” she asked.
The woman always talked in a way that made me feel like she was dropping sexual innuendo. I wasn’t sure if that was the case and didn’t want to stick a foot in my mouth by saying something inappropriate. “I would like to show you my boat.”
She grinned. “Then it’s a date.”
Chapter 8
Evie
It was a fairly cool morning, or as cool as it could be on a summer day in southern California. I appreciated the shade that made it comfortable to sit outside while listening to birds and the happy sounds of kids enjoying nature.
“What about you?” he asked.
I turned to look at him, taking in the profile of the man that had caught my interest. “What about me?”
“You’re a party planner. How did you get to be that?”
The way he said it made it sound like it was a dirty word. “That?” I said with a laugh. “I think I always knew that I loved parties. Didn’t you like parties as a kid?”
“I don’t think I remember a lot of parties when I was a kid.”
“Birthday parties?” I questioned.
He slowly shook his head. “No. Not really. I think we had one for my younger brother when he turned five, but that’s about it.”
That struck me as odd. I couldn’t imagine a childhood with no parties. “Did you ever go to parties?”
“I went to a few homecoming parties.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Not a kegger. I mean a party to celebrate something.”
“A homecoming party celebrates a military person coming home,” he explained.
“Oh, I see. Were you in the military? Navy, right?”
“No. I wasn’t. My dad was a Navy man.”
It was becoming clearer. “And you probably moved around a lot, so you didn’t have a lot of friends and therefore not a lot of parties.”
“Actually, no. My parents moved around a lot when my dad was first in the Navy, but he quickly climbed the ranks. Most of his time in the service was spent here in San Diego. When he had to go out, he went, and we stayed.”
“That had to make your life easier,” I reasoned.
He shrugged. “I suppose.”
It was a subject he wasn’t going to discuss. That much was clear. “I love a good party,” I said, starting up the conversation again. “Parties, especially the themed ones, are a chance to go all around the world. You can be anyone. I love to create these imaginary worlds where a person can forget who they are just for a few hours.”