“Why on earth not?” I sputter.
He winces. “Because I only took a handful of notes with me this morning and I spent it all on lunch. I didn’t want to carry a massive wad of cash around with me. You know, for security reasons.”
I take a slow breath. But surely he has everything set up on his apps. “Well, do you have your phone on you?”
He cringes, running a hand through his curls. “This is really embarrassing. I’d like to point out that, normally, I’m much more organised than this.”
“Ok?”
“I have a phone,” he says, slipping it out of his pocket and glaring at it. “But it isn’t my normal phone. I don’t have anything set up on here.”
“But why?”
“Ah, it’s a long story.”
“Well, can you not call someone? Get us helicoptered back onto the cruise or something? You don’t have anycontacts? A private chauffeur to Dubrovnik? Charter a yacht to chase down our yacht?” I realise as soon as I’ve said it that it’s highly presumptuous of me to say ‘us’ but, other than the spritz incident, he’s been fairly sweet so far so he might include me.
He grimaces and rubs the back of his neck. “The thing is, I’m trying to prove I don’t need them.”
“Who?”
“My team.”
“Ok,” I say, considering this revelation. “Well, I’d suggest you maybe do. You know, need them. Because you’re stranded.”
“We’re stranded,” he points out.
“Yes.We’re stranded.Is there really nothing you can do?”
He sighs, his shoulders sagging. “I mean, I could call my team. If it was absolute worst-case scenario.”
I feel like this qualifies. “Great! Do that!”
“But I don’t want to,” he says, cringing.
“Why not?”
“Because I spent so much time convincing them I could do this alone. And I can do this alone.”
“I’d argue…”
“Hey,” he interrupts, laughing when he notices my incredulous expression. “I know this looks bad. I do. But if I call them, they’ll send people out here. I’ll lose my anonymity and be forced to do this with people shadowing me the whole time. All in the guise of them being worried about me when in actual fact they just want to keep tabs on me. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’ve tapped my other phone and can track me.”
“What?” I say, genuinely concerned for him.
He squeezes his chin. “Yeah, I don’t want them to know I’m onto them but there have been some unexplained scenarios. I need the space. I need to just be a nobody for a couple of weeks so I can live my life the way I want to.”
I blow out a breath. “Right. I see.”
He nods. “So, like I said, I’d walk to Dubrovnik to catch the cruise, if it meant not having to call them.”
“Right.” I really do not understand his plight.
“But we could walk together?” he suggests with the innocence of someone who thinks that is a sensible suggestion.
“Do I look like the kind of woman who would be up for walking God only knows how far, in this blistering heat, to another city?”
I realise as soon as I’ve said it, that it invites him to study me. His gaze starts at my sandals (see also: inappropriate walking footwear) and carry on up until he meets my eyes again with a grin. “I suppose not.”
