by Kara Lennox
Like her uncle had, after he’d trashed her father’s business. Last she knew the Ginnie, named after her mother, was in Key West.
Allie shook off her nostalgia. She had snacks to put out-cold cuts and bread for sandwiches, apple and orange wedges, potato chips and pretzels.
Once she had the food squared away she checked on Cooper. She stood at the top of the ladder, watching him without his notice. Already he looked less buttoned-up, more relaxed. With the wind ruffling his short hair and the sun on his face, he was more handsome than ever. But it was the expression on his face that stopped her, made her reconsider.
He looked blissed out. Like he’d never been so happy. Obviously he did love sailing, even if he’d been away for a while. For the first time she could see a family resemblance between Cooper and his uncle.
She felt her heart softening toward him even as other parts of her sprang to life.
No. Cooper was the enemy. He was out to steal her dreams, and she had best remember that-even if, right this moment, she wanted nothing more than to stand beside him at the wheel, put her hands on his sun-warmed shirt, and share with him the giddy joy of sailing on the high seas.
COOPER’S FIRST CHARTER CRUISE was a success. As he said goodbye to the passengers, who lugged coolers bulging with fish they’d caught, he felt an overwhelming sense of well-being.
Coming here to claim his inheritance had been the right decision. He and Max could run the boat. Maybe they could hire Allie to handle refreshments. But even as that possibility crossed his mind, he knew it would never happen. Allie was used to running the show. She wouldn’t settle for taking a backseat.
Anyway, they needed someone who could prepare gourmet meals in a small galley. Sandwiches and chips were fine, but if they wanted to attract an upscale clientele and charge more money, they had to upgrade.
The Dragonfly wouldn’t be the same without Allie, he caught himself thinking. In only one day he’d gotten used to seeing her running all over the boat, surefooted as a monkey, handling several tasks at once. She would fetch drinks for the passengers, re-bait a hook, and check on the engine to make sure it hadn’t caught fire all in the span of a minute or two.
She was good. He hated to admit it, but she was. He never would have found the fish. But she would analyze the sonar, gaze at the water, then-no kidding-sniff the air. A few minutes later, there would be a school of snapper. Watching her was like sipping good Scotch.
The sight of her rounded bottom in those tight denim shorts had provided its own entertainment. Much as he enjoyed the sight, he ought to talk to her about her uniform.
Harry Nelson hadn’t been able to keep his ogling eyes off of her, either, and it wouldn’t be good for business if Cooper had to punch out one of the passengers for taking liberties with his staff.
Allie worked side by side with him now, helping the happy, sunburned passengers with their gear. As soon as everyone else had disembarked, he turned to her and grinned, unable to help himself.
“We did it.”
“Did you think we wouldn’t?”
He shrugged. “I’m just saying we did good. Do we have people booked for tomorrow?”
“We have a ten o’clock, but normally the start time is much earlier.” Tomorrow, however, she had to meet with her lawyer first thing.
“Guess I’ll see you around nine, then.” He turned, but she grabbed his arm.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where do you think you’re going? Just because the passengers are gone doesn’t mean our workday is over. We have to clean and put away the equipment. Carry out the trash. Empty the holding tanks. Call Mickey about fixing the engine. Then we have to get ready for tomorrow. We have to lay in groceries, bait.”
“Does it really take two people to-”
“Excuse me. Partners, remember? If you want half the profits, you gotta do half the work.”
“I have obligations,” he said. “Bank accounts to un-freeze. Injunctions to un-injunct. A contract to draft.” Truthfully, he’d arranged for Reece to handle most of those tasks. But if he was going to captain this boat tomorrow, he had some studying to do. He supposed it wasn’t fair to stick Allie with all the chores. But tomorrow he would be ready to pitch in.
“Tell you what. Tomorrow I’ll do all the cleaning and shopping and whatever. You can have the evening off.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Really?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, deal.”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out his money clip, and peeled off five hundred-dollar bills. “That should handle incidentals until you’re able to access the business account.”
Allie stared at the money with bulging eyes. “Do you always carry that kind of money around?”
“I like to be prepared. See you tomorrow.”
He stepped off the boat, feeling really good about the day. He had pleasantly sore muscles from climbing up and down the ladder to the bridge, and his nose was sunburned.
His good mood lasted until he saw Reece striding toward him down the dock, looking ridiculously out of place in dress slacks, a starched white shirt and a tie. Why was he wearing a tie? No one down here wore ties unless they were getting married or going to a funeral.
“Where the hell have you been?” Reece demanded. “Why haven’t you answered your phone?”
“Um, Reece, cell phones don’t work out on the ocean. Is there a problem?”
“I’ll say. Mark Gold called from Austin.”
Gold was the legal researcher Cooper had hired to check into Allie’s claims about a will. “What did he say?”
“He says there is a will. Handwritten, but properly witnessed, properly executed in every way. Went through probate without a hitch. It leaves the boat to one Allison Therese Bateman.”
“We’ll hire a forgery expert,” Cooper said immediately. “The whole thing could be faked. Uncle Johnny wouldn’t have cut us out.”
“Apparently he did. I’ve talked to the lawyer here who filed it. His name is Arlen Caldwell. He was a personal friend of Johnny’s. Says there is no question that Johnny wrote and signed the will.”
“If that’s true, we’ll argue diminished mental capacity. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll prove Allie coerced him into writing a new will.”
“Caldwell says Johnny was perfectly sane, and there’s not a chance he was coerced.”
“Damn it, Reece, I’m not letting her get away with this. That’s our boat. She’s not even distantly related. Say, wait a minute, how old is this Caldwell character?”
Reece shrugged. “I don’t know, I didn’t meet him. But on the phone he sounds like an old man.”
“Bingo. Allie Bateman wrapped one old man around her little finger. Why not two?”
“You think she and Caldwell were in it together?”
“Why not?”
Reece appeared dubious. “Look, Coop, just because Heather did a number on you-”
“I told you before, do not bring Heather into this. She has nothing to do with the current situation.”
“Of course she does. She snowed you. She snowed the whole family. She stole nearly a quarter million dollars-”
“I know what she did.”
“And she got away with it. But that doesn’t mean every woman in the world is a conniving siren out to fleece us. We can fight Johnny’s will, but it’s going to cost us. Plenty. After seeing the boat, I’m not sure it’s worth it.”
“And after spending all day aboard the Dragonfly, I’m sure it is,” Cooper countered. Piloting that boat, feeling the wind, smelling the tangy salt air, he’d felt more alive than he had in years. He was pretty sure Allie’s presence on the boat had nothing to do with the high he’d felt all day. “I’ll pay the legal fees from my own pocket if I have to, but I’m not giving up.”
Chapter Four
Allie finally got the boat squared away. Mickey had come over after hours and banged around on the engine for a while. When he was done, it didn’t appear anything had changed. If a
nything, there were more wires added to the spaghetti bowl. But the scruffy mechanic swore Allie wouldn’t have any more electrical shorts.
What were the chances of that being true?
After making a careful notation in the ledger book, she’d used Cooper’s money to pay off Dino and buy groceries for the next day’s excursions.
She was grateful for the cash, and she would repay him as soon as she had access to the money from today’s charter. But she’d probably been a fool to make a side deal with Cooper Remington. She had her doubts he’d do all the post-cruise work tomorrow while she took the evening off. Would he even know what to do?
Though she had to get up early tomorrow-she was meeting Arlen at the crack of dawn-she was too restless to go to bed, so she locked up the boat and headed for Old Salt’s. Johnny used to hang out there a lot, before he quit drinking. It was a friendly bar favored by the locals, and she imagined she would see a few familiar faces there.
If she lost the Dragonfly, at least she would still have her friends. No one could take them away from her.
“Hey, Allie!” The enthusiastic greeting came from Jimmy Pye, who captained the Sallie Ann. They often referred business back and forth. “Heard you found the snapper today.”
“We pulled in a few,” she said with a grin, slapping the crusty sailor on the back as she passed his table, where he was tipping some beers with his crew.
“How’s it goin’, Allie?” another sailor asked. He was a skinny man she knew only as Paco who had crewed for several different boats over the years.
She couldn’t honestly answer that things were going great, but she had no intention of airing her problems in a public place. “Things are goin’,” she said noncommittally.
Several others greeted her with a friendly wave or a nod. They were a close-knit group, the sailors and boat owners of Port Clara. By now, news of the injunction had spread, but no one mentioned it. They knew she would talk about it if she wanted to.
She slid onto a bar stool and was surprised to see her friend Sara behind the bar, mixing drinks.
“Hey, que pasa, chica?” Sara grinned, her huge chandelier earrings forming a glittering halo. Sara was a spot of sunshine wherever she went. She liked to wear Mexican cotton shirts embroidered with bright colors, and swirly skirts that often clashed. Today she’d twisted her long, brown hair into a careless knot on top of her head, stuck through with a pencil.
“When did you come back?” Allie asked as her friend poured her a Corona draft without asking. “I thought you’d be gone at least a couple more weeks.”
Sara shrugged as she set the frosty mug in front of Allie along with a bowl of lime wedges. “Got tired of L.A. Too expensive, too plastic…and the art-house movie I was supposed to work on turned out to be more porn than art. Like they really needed a set designer? I told ’em to buy a king-size bed and some gauze, and I walked.”
That was Sara. Easy come, easy go.
“Anyway, I got a little homesick,” she admitted.
“You? Homesick?”
“Well, okay, I heard three very good-looking, rich and highly eligible bachelors were staying at the B and B, and my curiosity got the better of me.”
Allie squeezed some lime juice into her beer. “So you heard.”
Sara frowned. “Yeah. Miss Greer called me. Actually, I think she was just looking for an excuse to check up on me. Sounds like you got some real trouble on your hands, doll. What’s the scoop?”
“Ugh. I’ll fill you in sometime, but not tonight. Tonight I just want to forget those Remington cousins exist.”
“Then you came to the wrong place.” Sara’s gaze slid to the left, and Allie suppressed a gasp. There they were, at a table not twenty feet away. They each had a bottle of some fancy designer beer, and they had their heads together, poring over a bunch of papers.
“I’ll have to agree with Miss Greer,” Sara said. “Those Remington boys are a nice-looking lot-especially the one with the glasses. He’s cute.”
Allie frowned and squinted at them. “You think so?” Cooper was the one whose looks made her mouth go dry.
“Mmm-mmm. Don’t you want to go and just muss up that neatly combed hair?”
“Sara. Don’t forget, those guys are trying to take away my boat. I can’t afford to let up my guard for one minute, and that means no hair mussing.”
Sara cocked her head to one side. “I don’t know, hon, but I think you could do better making friends, rather than seeing them as the enemy.”
“You go make friends, then,” Allie huffed. “Find out what they’re talking about.”
“I think maybe I will.” Sara moved to the adjacent side of the square bar area, near the Remingtons’ table, while Allie nursed her beer and angled her body away from the men. The bar was pretty crowded, so they probably wouldn’t see her.
A reporter from the Port Clara Clarion stopped by to chat, casually milking Allie for information about the Dragonfly’s disputed ownership, but Allie gave the woman as little as possible. She kept watch on the Remingtons from the corner of her eye.
At least, she thought she’d kept watch. But when a pair of strong hands gripped her shoulders from behind, she nearly came off her bar stool.
“Allie!” Cooper said in a jovial greeting, as if they were old friends. “Why don’t you join us at our table? I’ll buy you a drink.”
His hands on her, so casually, should have been repugnant. But to her utter disgust, she found his touch sparked something deep inside her, something female responding to his masculinity.
“I don’t think so,” she said coolly.
“Aw, come on.” He released her and slid onto the bar stool next to her. “We had a great time today. Don’t let our legal dispute color everything black.”
She gave him her most penetrating stare. “You call it a legal dispute. I call it you trying to take away my livelihood.”
The easy smile fled his face. She wished he wasn’t so darn good-looking. It would be easier to hold on to her righteous indignation if he didn’t tickle her hormones.
“I did offer you a cash settlement,” he reminded her. “But you wouldn’t even listen. Litigation is expensive.”
She’d been wondering if she was crazy not to at least listen to his offer. If it was generous enough, she could start over, maybe buy an interest in another boat.
She could even compete with the Remingtons.
But selling out didn’t sit well with her. Johnny had trusted her to take care of his boat and his business after he was gone. He’d obviously not been on good terms with his family, and he wouldn’t want them to have the Dragonfly or Remington Charters.
“I know litigation is expensive.”
He raised an eyebrow in feigned surprise. “Oh? You’ve been sued before, perhaps? Are property disputes a pattern with you?”
“I’m not some black widow preying on old men, if that’s what you think. But I have had dealings with lawyers.”
Allie’s father had died when she was sixteen. He’d been a charter fisherman, too-friends with Johnny, in fact. He’d left everything to Allie in his will, but her attorney-uncle was the executor of the estate until she reached majority. Within eighteen months he’d bankrupted the business. She’d tried to get legal help when she realized what was happening, but no lawyer would take her case because she didn’t have any money.
She didn’t, however, think her past legal problems were any of Cooper’s business. He would use any little tidbit he picked up from her to defeat her. He would twist her words until she came out sounding like an opportunist who went around inheriting boats as a hobby.
“We’re not all jerks,” Cooper pointed out.
“Prove it.”
“It’s not as if the boat means nothing to me.” He tried again. “I spent summers with Uncle Johnny when I was younger-Reece and Max, too. They’re the happiest memories we have. Is it wrong for us to want to reclaim those happy times? Especially when I know Johnny always intended for us to in
herit his boat someday. He used to tell us that all the time.”
Oh, he was good. She’d give him that. If a jury heard their case-and knowing what she so far knew of Cooper, he would demand a jury hearing-they would be whipping out their handkerchiefs before he was through with them.
“Maybe once upon a time he did intend to leave you the boat. But that was before you went years without visiting, without calling. Before you left him to die here alone, with only his employee by his bedside.”
“His employee?” Another raised eyebrow.
“His employee and his dear friend, and nothing more.”
“You lived together on the boat. Am I supposed to believe-”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to believe. You’ve clearly been asking around, but you won’t find a single person in this town who will claim Johnny and I were romantically involved. Not anyone who knew us, anyway.”
He shrugged. “Pity for you. If you could claim status as his common-law wife, your chances in court would go up.”
She slapped some money on the bar, gave him one more hard look, and left. She wasn’t going to dignify his observation with a response.
She didn’t need to resort to legal tricks. The law was on her side.
“SHOT YOU DOWN, DID SHE?” Max said as Cooper reclaimed his chair at their table. Even with a black eye, Max was still a chick magnet. He’d made up some ridiculous story about fighting off a mugger, and he’d already secured dates with two different women.
Cooper gathered up the papers they’d been working on, just some brainstorming on ways to market the charter service once ownership was established. “Allie’s a tough cookie. Says she’s dealt with lawyers before. I’ll put Mark Gold to work finding out exactly what sort of litigation she’s been involved in.”
He caught Reece and Max sharing a look.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Reece said, draining the last of his Coke.
