After Harry left, I depleted the rest of the afternoon in the pool, allowing myself to unwind my body and mind in the refreshing water, the rest of the family lounging in the warm rays of the sun by the poolside. The calm movement of the waving water drifted my float, my eyes sealed as I tried to get some tan.
"What a becoming man." I heard the disembodied voice of my mother followed by the shut of a door. She must've just finished cleaning up after lunch. I opened my eyes into a squint, my hand blocking the sun rays as I gleamed over towards my parents. My mother took a seat next to father at the outdoor table, the umbrella biding them shade.
My father kept his focus on the book he read, eyebrows scrunched as he licked his finger, flipping a page. "Very. It was nice of him to invite me out for a game of poker."
Huh? I don't commemorate my father being invited anywhere. Perhaps he was asked when I wasn't paying attention to any of the conversation during latter lunch. My father is quite a gambler, as well, not refuting the fact that my family does have money to play around with. I suppose it's a good thing my father found a wealthy man in the area to consort with like he has back home.
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Devoting the first two days adjusting to vacation life and passing the hours at the house, I itched to use the new day to explore about. I informed my parents of my plans before I exited, starting my usual stroll.
The shops around town weren't like your customary retail shops that sold the same reoccurring items. The shops were local-ran, every stop presenting individuality through their own pieces. Local photographers opened stands to sell their shots, artists hung their artwork upon the walls of their shop, sculptors showcasing their sculptures through their own windows, vendors selling famous, freshly made key-lime pies, boutiques flaunting their one of a kind clothing items on mannequins. The unique merchandise did indeed mirror the uniqueness of the island itself, and I cherished that.
Time elapsed by as I came and gone through multiple retails, not really purchasing much as I enjoyed just to look; however, I wrote mental notes for things I'd love to return to buy as I didn't have any cash on me.
About a mile walk down the road had me arrive at the Southernmost Point, the corner of a street that reached the end of the island to be met with the beautiful sea. In the location was a large signboard to plot the landmark where visitors could take souvenir photos of the family to prove their visit to the best place on Earth.
The open view allowed for a nice breeze to blow against my face gently, borne with the smell of salt and a hint of seaweed. A few boats drifted in the water, the waves glittering in the sun like diamonds.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
I flinched out of shock, whipping around at the voice that came from directly behind me. My eyes froze on the towering man before me, not expecting to see him again so quickly. He appeared amused by my reaction, showing off a satisfied smirk as he held his hands behind his back. His quietness made me realize I had yet to respond.
"O-Oh, yeah." I nod, swiftly turning my attention back to the sea. He's more beautiful, though.
"One of my favorite spots." Harry steps beside me, looking out. "Open but secluded."
I nod again, unable to form words. Why do I go coy around him?
"Although I've resided here for over a year now, I hate to admit I haven't explored the island much." He continues, taking a notice of my lack of feedback.
"Why?" I peer up at him, finally taking him in fully. His head of curls were held back by gel, his usually suit-clad figure dressed in black slacks and a white collared shirt, the buttons halfway undone to showcase his tan, toned torso. His sleeves were messily rolled up, revealing ink painted on his forearms. My mouth was watering just at the sight of him.
"Too occupied with work." His eyes divert to me, catching my wandering eyes in the act.
"Where did you live before moving here?"
"Chicago."
"What made you move? Quite an opposite change."
"The city became too much for me. Wanted to move someplace tranquil."
"You'd think Chicago would be the ideal place for business in trade. How are you able to keep work in a low place like this? We're far from everything."
"Didn't realize I signed up for an interview, sweetheart." Harry retorts, cocking his head to the side in amusement. My stomach fluttered with butterflies at the pet name.
"I-I'm just trying to create conversation." I shrugged innocently.
"No conversation a sixteen year old would take an interest in."
"I'm eighteen, actually." I correct, folding my arms in front of me. I don't know why his mistake of my age irritated me.
The infamous smirk rose upon his face. "Speaking of 'trying to create conversation', why don't you inform me a little about yourself."
"There's not much to tell." I go quiet again.
"I beg to differ."
"What do you want to know?"
"Anything." Harry shrugs, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Just a girl from Virginia who comes to Key West every year on vacation for three weeks." I disliked being asked to talk about myself, I never knew what to say that was interesting enough without having it sound like an interview.
"Oh, when did you arrive?"
"Just a couple days ago."
"When do you leave?"
"I believe the twenty-sixth..."
Harry only nods, puckering his lips as he chewed the inside of his cheek, looking off at the ocean once again. Why does he need to know when we leave? Perhaps to clean the place up for us after we go as he does own it. Speaking of owning houses, that reminds me.
"Where do you live?" I grab his attention.
He takes a moment to answer. "The third house on Whitehead. I assume you know where exactly."
"I do." I nod, picturing the house in my head. He lived there? A two story, pearl white home, beautiful as can be with the most breathtaking yard of evergreen, slightly hidden in privacy. I suppose it didn't surprise me that Harry occupied that residency, learning he rents out houses around town and makes a bit of money. A bit spacious for only one man, assuming he wasn't married... I don't notice a ring. "The garden is beautiful, your wife must take good care of it."
"I'm not married." He clarifies, looking down at me.
"Oh..." I mask the smile I mentally gave myself. "I would've thought you were."
"And why's that?" He tilts his head, eyes full of mirth.
"W-Well, because..." Crap, how do I explain this. "you seem like a very nice, kept man."
"That's sweet of you." He praises in a monotone voice as his focus lie ahead on the setting sun, the orange tone of the sunset irradiating his features. His sharp jaw clenched as he turned his head towards me, eyes piercing down into mine with a remark that rose goosebumps upon my skin. "But there are things you don't know about me, angel."