“No.”
“So, how’d you know I was there?”
He stared at me for a long, quiet moment. I felt every hair stand up, every nerve ending zap, before he finally looked away. My heart pounded erratically. River was good-looking, yes, but this was something else. This was . . . inexplicable.
“A hunch.” He met my gaze again. “You should be ready by five-thirty. I’ll send your dress with Gustavo.”
“What? Send it where? I’m not even going to the party.”
“Gustavo,” River said loudly. “Let it be known that I’m choosing Penelope Guzman to accompany me tonight.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you dare defy the rules, Miss Guzman?” His eyes were dancing when he looked at me again.
My jaw dropped. It took me a second to gather my wits before I could respond, “I don’t even know where I’ll be. I’m not going back home and—”
“Tell Miss Dolly that you’ll be needing the room upstairs. That should cover it.”
I blinked. “I don’t even . . . Dolly . . . I mean . . . ”
“Penelope.”
“What?”
“Go to Dolly’s. Your friends are waiting for you.” He brought a hand up and caressed my face. “I’ll see you later.”
With that he turned around and walked past the gate again. My mouth was still hanging open as I watched him get in the car and peel away. The only thing I could think was, What the hell just happened? And the only answer I could come up with was River Caliban. He happened.
Chapter Thirteen
When I pulled the door open to Dolly’s bar and walked inside, all heads turned to me. Dee and Martín were sitting at our usual table, but before I headed there, I first walked over to Dolly, who was behind the bar.
“He told me,” she said when I reached her. “I’ll take you up in a minute. I’m sure you want to rest.”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay.” She raised an eyebrow. “I already set your martini on the table over there.”
I walked toward my friends. They were both wide-eyed, watching me as I slid into the booth across from them and took a hefty sip of the martini, coughing when the vodka hit me hard.
“First of all, who are you?” Dee asked.
“What?” I blinked.
“What are you wearing? You’re dressed in . . . light colors?” She looked confused. “You look like you just stepped out of a Ralph Lauren commercial.”
“Oh.” I looked down at myself and laughed. “I kind of like it.”
“It suits you.” Dee folded her hands in front of her. “So, do tell.”
“We didn’t do anything. There was a small party when we got there and then we slept in the same bed, but did nothing, and he let me take pictures of part of the house this morning before driving me over here.” I took another sip. “He also picked me again today.”
“He picked you again?” Dee’s brows rose.
“And all you did was sleep beside each other?” Martín’s brows rose as well.
“Trust me, I don’t understand it either. I feel like this is some kind of revenge scheme, but he’s not . . . I mean, he hasn’t done anything bad to me.”
“Yet.” Dee’s mouth formed into a thin line.
“Yet,” I agreed.
“What can he do?” Martín asked. “He seems perfectly fine.”
“Too perfect,” Dee said. “And he’s from that island.” She pulled a disgusted face.
“Technically, yes, but he’s lived in London, France, Greece. It’s not like the man isn’t well traveled and is only stuck in one place,” Martín said.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I pay attention.” Martín took a sip of his drink, his face reddening. “And I low-key stalk the Calibans.”
“You have a crush on him or something?” Dee raised a questioning eyebrow.
“No, nothing like that. I just find them fascinating. They’re the reason I started visiting Pan Island, to begin with. All of the legends and folklore.”
“Oh, God.” I groaned. “I hate what that picture did to this island.”
“No offense, but the legends were well established before your photo surfaced or The Haunt became a thing.”
“That actually makes me feel a little better.” I finished off my drink. “So, what’d you learn about the Calibans?”
“Not much. Not much that I believe to be real anyway. I learned that the curse caused a literal rift, when what is now known as Dolos Island broke off from Pan Island.”
“How did that happen?” I sat up straighter.
“What was the curse?” Dee asked.
“There are different accounts. Mostly I think the Guzmans didn’t want the Calibans moving in on their land. The Guzmans were here first. They founded Pan Island. They owned the crops and were proud to have freed their people. When the Calibans moved in with their promises to be nice, they were given a chance, but it is said that they broke that promise.”
“How?” I leaned forward. “What did they do?”
“They enslaved people again. Raped women. Impregnated them.” Martín shot me a look. “Not that your people weren’t doing the same to them, but obviously your people practically own this island to this day so the tours are very one-sided.”