Always tipping well, always partaking of all the local customs, always embracing the legends.
Maybe her stepdad was right to believe in this legend. Perhaps she should have kissed a stingray sooner or held on longer for the last one. She should have insisted on her luck, the way Eli seemed predestined to claim his.
Breezing through life, flashing a grin, taking what he wanted because he could. Because he had that thing known as charm.
Duke had that, too. She’d fallen for him because he had an easy way about him. The second things didn’t go his way he’d turned into a complete asshole.
She winced, hoping, praying, that Eli wasn’t all bad. Not like Duke. That’s why she was here in the Islands early. To find out which side of her stepfather was the true one.
She drummed her fingers against the counter, waiting for Devon to finish up with his customer. She’d known Devon since she was that towheaded seven-year-old, and he’d been running this snorkel shop next to Stingray City Sandbar for even longer. His rough, dark skin told the tale of his years as a sun worshipper, and the steady stream of traffic in his store showed that he’d made a damn good living renting gear and operating boat tours for visitors to mingle in the crystal-blue waters with the world’s friendliest stingrays.
“But don’t they, you know, sting you?” a woman with big sunglasses and gold hoop earrings asked him in a Jersey accent.
He waved a hand to reassure her, then mimed petting a dog. “Nah. They’re like little puppies. They know you have food, so they get all excited and cuddle up next to you.”
“I do like puppies,” the woman said, standing taller.
“’Course you do. Now, go enjoy the puppies of the water,” he said in his cheery voice.
The customer thanked him, then headed out to join the rest of the tour group.
Devon held his arms out wide and flashed a huge grin at Steph, his white teeth gleaming. “Give me a hug. It has been far too long,” he said as she embraced him. He stepped away as if taking her in, like a family friend who hadn’t seen her in a long time. Of course, in many ways, that’s what he was. But he was also her friend and had been since she’d started up her business. He’d stood by her even when times had been tough. He’d always put in a good word for her when he could, and she’d done the same for him.
Guys like him almost erased the memory of guys like Duke.
“I know. I miss you all,” she said softly, since losing her traction here had hurt her heart the most.
“Then get your butt down here more often,” he said, pointing wildly to the floor, the ceiling, the window that offered the most gorgeous view of endless blue water and sky.
“I’m doing my best. I’ve got a tour next week, and you know I’ll be bringing them here to your shop,” she said with a wide smile, grateful to chat about work for the moment. Getting to the heart of her visit would be tougher—intel about Eli.
“Hey! Can we do that thing we used to do? Where we plant a little treasure chest on the sandbar?”
Steph cracked up, clasping her belly at the memory of their antics. On a few of their guided stingray city tours, they’d actually lugged a wooden chest into the water and lined it with huge, and clearly fake, gems. Visitors had gotten a kick out of the notion of discovering a pirate’s booty. Funny thing was, despite all the tales and stories of buried treasure and pirates, in reality there weren’t many documented findings of treasure maps or undersea discoveries throughout history.
Only fiction. Only lore.
“We have to do that again. That was our greatest hit.”
He scratched his chin. “Hey, I have a private group at the end of the week. A short couples-only visit to the stingrays. Want to help out?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I would love to. Text me the details?”
“Absolutely.” He tipped his forehead to her in question. “So you came to town early? Any special reason?” He fixed her with a stare that said he was waiting.
Nerves skated across her skin. She took a breath and segued into the real reason for her stop. Recon. This was odd for her, since she’d never needed her local friends for information before. But now she did, and she’d have to ask in a way that didn’t reveal her true motives—to find out what her stepdad was up to and whether any of his actions suggested he’d been up to no good with other people’s money.
Sure, she planned to call him later and make plans to see him. But she needed to be smart and gather some info first. It wasn’t like she could just show up at Eli’s house asking about his finances. Even inquiring about how business was going would raise a red flag, since they’d never had those conversations in the past. He was far too shrewd to fall for that sort of questioning. That’s why she was going in through the side door, tucking away potentially useful details before she saw him.
“So, Devon,” she said, clearing her throat. “I need your honest opinion on something.”
“Uh-oh.”
“It’s not bad.”
He arched an eyebrow. “It’s never good when someone says they want an honest opinion.”
Devon was Switzerland. He had nothing against her stepdad. Eli had been a reliable customer for years, so she had to be careful, to tread a fine line. “I want your unbiased opinion. Now that business is picking up for me again, I need to do everything to run a tight ship and make sure customers are happy. So when someone on a tour asks me about the nightlife . . . ,” she said, then made a rolling gesture with her hand.