We enjoyed two shots of vodka. He sat across from me with the vodka bottle placed between us on a giant, glass ashtray-shaped coffee table the color of topaz.
“Let the questioning begin.”
“I’ll be gentle on you since you let me come to your island. Fans and the media say that you’re despicable and hate people.”
He chuckled and admitted, “I really don’t like strangers. I bought the island to get away from the world and its hypocritical media. I didn’t ask to be famous. I simply wanted my own space where I could create my art. Haven Island offers me that.”
I couldn’t stop thinking him handsome: muscled shoulders, brown scruff on his chin and cheeks, stumble-over hazel eyes, Adam’s apple, and somewhat of a small nose. My mind drifted to a place and time where we would kiss, undress each o
