Finding Her A-Muse-Ment by Rebecca Royce Page B

fog?”
    “Well, it better be the Wiccan Haus, or I got on the wrong boat.”
    He narrowed his gaze and looked to his left before turning back to her. The stranger, who happened to be the first person she’d spoken to—except for the woman on the phone—in more months than she wanted to admit, stood at least a foot taller than she did. Not hard to do since she barely reached five feet without heels.
    His brown curly hair blew slightly in the wind. He had a strong jaw and cheekbones she would have given one of her heroes. They were high and jutted out, giving his long face an angular look. His nose stood out long and proud. It worked for him. His eyebrows furrowed even more. No one would call this man pretty.
    “Are you talking to me?”
    Had she done something wrong? He’d spoken to her first. This was why she’d stopped communicating with strangers. Outside of her own creations, nothing made sense.
    “I answered you. Didn’t I?” He took a step forward closing the space between them. “You can see me?”
    She laughed, which startled her. She nearly dropped George when she covered her mouth.
    He smiled, the corners of his lips moving upwards. “What’s funny?”
    “I don’t know. It’s just the first conversation I’ve had in…a while…and it’s ridiculous.”
    The stranger nodded. “I guess it must seem that way.”
    “You guess?” She shook her head. “Wow. I’ve been out of the talking zone for too long.”
    “I’m sorry. I guess you could say it’s been a tremendous amount of time since I had a conversation too. Longer than it’s been for you.” He extended his hand. “I’m Isyllus.”
    “Just Isyllus. Like Madonna? One name only?”
    “Oh.” He rubbed his chin.
    She had the strangest urge to reach out and touch him. Susie managed to restrain herself but still the need had arisen to stroke a stranger’s face. That had to be an improvement.
    Didn’t it?
    “Forgive me. I didn’t anticipate this. The fog must be affecting my visibility. My name is Isyllus Zeus. How’s that?”
    “Very Greek actually, which is cool. But I’m kind of thinking you made that up. If that’s true, then I think you could have done better.” She studied him for a moment, while he squirmed, shifting his feet around on the deck. “I’m glad you don’t have to name characters for a living.”
    “You might be surprised at how often I’m called upon to be creative. But it’s other people’s creativity. Not my own. Apparently, I’m a bit of a dud.”
    The wind blew a little stronger, and she turned around to look at the water again. The fog lifted and they were rapidly approaching a dock in the distance. Her stomach tightened. She’d meant it when she decided she wasn’t getting off the boat. No way could she handle this type of stress.
    Without meaning to, she turned to study Isyllus again. He was still staring at her, not paying any attention to the landing. She’d be lost if she tried to take on some kind of healing, chanting, Wiccan weekend. But then so would the man in front of her. He didn’t go for this kind of thing either. She knew that as much as she knew her own name.
    Her mind stuttered. Had she suddenly become psychic?
    The boat came to a sudden stop and she banged into the railing, trying not to drop George overboard in the process. Isyllus’s hand steadied her.
    “Getting off?” He motioned toward the board the captain laid out for patrons to disembark.
    “How did you know I’d contemplated not doing so?”
    His smile came instantly but his eyes remained sad. An odd, striking combination. “Your thoughts were written all over your face.”
    “Am I so easy to read?” Her words came out a whisper.
    “To me you are.”
    That must be how he had known she’d been afraid of the fog. “I’ll get off if you get off.”
    Her words had a ton of double entendre and her cheeks heated up. She knew nothing about him. He could be an ax murderer. Yet his eyes were sweet, and she’d had an