As Shae spoke, Custos leaned against the railing with his forearms pressed on the painted wood. His eyes observed the beach and danced with quiet humor when the word “gig” left her mouth.
“Well, when you put it like that…” he said, but in her defense, his job did seem easy. There were tons of people roaming the beach. Girls in bikinis. Guys playing volleyball. Kids making sand castles. At least half of them were sunburned, but none of them seemed to care. Every day the air was filled with laughter and crashing waves, which was deceptive to his line of work.
“...I could see you making a decent life guard.” There were many roads he could have guided the conversation, and he decided to drive down compliment lane first. Custos faced Shae with approval while his right hand, the one without the Pepsi in it, motioned to her arms.
“You look strong, a good swimmer, I mean…and your legs look like you could navigate the water, get you out of dangerous situations.” He didn’t linger on her lower half too long because he didn’t want to come off as a creep, however, Custos did take a moment to admire her build.
“Usually, it’s a stress-free day, but you have to keep an eye on things, which makes it more like babysitting, honestly. The thing is, when something does go wrong, the feeling lasts weeks. For me, I remember the look on the person’s face when they’re in need of help - the job has pros and cons that weigh out. I’m not sure if you heard about this - we lost someone last year. A wave took them and they never found the body. Two years ago, we had a shark attack. There was blood everywhere, red water washed on the sand, it was a fucking mess.”