Allie was starving. She had spent the past couple of hours shuffling her various bookings, rescheduling a few but mostly placing them with other charter services. She hated to lose the business. A couple of them were longtime customers.
She’d been so busy she’d forgotten lunch, but Sara, always watching out for her friends, insisted Allie eat something.
“Don’t worry, this is from my private stash,” Sara said. “Miss Greer gives me one shelf in the pantry and one in the fridge.”
“It’s probably more room than I have on the Dragonfly for my personal groceries. I could get used to having this big kitchen to cook in.” And the enormous shower with its twin sprays, and the huge four-poster bed with three feather pillows. She could hardly wait to sleep in it tonight. Though it galled her that Cooper had manipulated her into staying where he thought she should stay, she wasn’t really sorry he’d won that argument.
She told herself all the time that she was a simple person with simple needs. She needed food, a dry bunk, and she needed to be near the ocean where she could see the sky and smell the salt air.
But suddenly being thrust into the Sunsetter’s luxurious surroundings reminded her she had other needs. Like a need for scented lotion, and lipstick, and a place to go where lipstick wouldn’t look out of place. Silk panties…and someone to appreciate them.
“So how was your trip, other than the porn film?” Allie asked after three crackers put a dent in her hunger. “We haven’t talked much since you got back.”
Sara wrinkled her nose. “Not worth talking about. Guy turned out to be a jerk.”
“Oh, so there was a guy involved.”
“Isn’t there always?” Sara crunched down on a cracker.
“Do you ever think about settling down with just one?”
Sara shrugged. “Nah. I’m too restless for that. Besides, I’ve never found a guy who didn’t get on my nerves after a while.” She paused and looked out the window, deliberately not meeting Allie’s gaze. “But I do want children.”
“Really?”
Sara stood suddenly. “I forgot to offer you something to drink. Juice?”
“Sure, whatever.”
“Don’t you want kids someday?” Sara asked.
“No room on the boat for kids.”
“But you don’t have to live on the boat forever. Most of the other captains have homes in town. They have wives and kids.”
“Maybe someday,” Allie said lightly, though she wasn’t really comfortable talking about this and wished she hadn’t brought it up. Now wasn’t a good time to think about living a more mainstream life. If her commitment to Remington Charters wavered even a little, she was afraid Cooper would find the chink in her armor and exploit it.
“So tell me more about the Remingtons. I made them breakfast this morning, and they didn’t seem like devils.”
“Appearances are deceiving. They ignored Johnny for twenty years, remember. But as soon as he died they gathered around like vultures.”
“Have you asked them why they stayed away?”
“There’s no good reason not to see your family while they’re alive.”
“What about your uncle? You haven’t seen him in, like, ten years.”
“That’s different! Uncle Daniel is a thief, a criminal. He took my inheritance away from me and squandered it. I don’t ever want to see him again, and I damn sure won’t come calling when he dies.”
“But what if he left you something in his will?” Sara persisted. “You wouldn’t take it? You wouldn’t figure he owes it to you?”
Hmm. She’d never thought of it that way.
“I’m just saying that you don’t really know what their family history is.”
“All I know is that Johnny had no intention of giving them the Dragonfly. I know it and they know it. They’re pulling legal tricks to try to defraud me out of my boat.”
“I’m on your side in this.” Sara squeezed Allie’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about that. But it’s possible the Remingtons aren’t evil incarnate. Not everything is black and white.”
Allie didn’t want to hear this. It was easier to avoid shades of gray.
With her hunger temporarily sated, Allie grabbed her backpack and headed out, hoping to escape the Sunsetter without running into any Remingtons, but wouldn’t you know it, she stumbled upon a whole nest of them in the parlor.
Reece had her ledgers and other papers spread out over a card table; he was so engrossed in his audit that he didn’t see her try to sneak through to the front door. But Cooper and the other cousin-Max?-saw her. They both looked up from their study of a laptop computer; legal pads and what looked like reference books were scattered across a coffee table.
“Allie, where are you going?” Cooper asked.
“To find work. While the Dragonfly’s in dry dock, I still have bills to pay.” She was hoping one of the other captains would hire her on as a temporary deckhand or cook.
Heck, she’d even hire on a commercial fishing vessel, though most of those guys were superstitious about allowing a woman on their ships.
She intended to intercept the pleasure boats as they came in for the evening, and the commercial boats as they prepared to sail for night fishing.
“Have you had anything to eat today?” Cooper asked. “I did promise you a meal.”
“I just ate. Another time.” She noticed, then, that Max had a fat lip and a black eye. “What happened to you?”
He flashed her an easy grin. “Your neighbor took a swing at me. He thought I was getting too familiar with his wife.”
Ugh. Scott Simone. Allie didn’t know how Jane put up with the guy-he was a complete jerk. Then again, it gave Allie a petty grain of satisfaction that one of the Remingtons had been on the receiving end of Scott’s legendary temper.
Maybe that explained why Jane and Scott had departed so abruptly. Scott had probably insisted they return to Houston. He knew Jane loved her time in Port Clara, so he punished her by dragging her away from it. It wasn’t the first time Scott had accused Jane of flirting inappropriately with another man, though Allie knew her neighbor was just friendly, nothing more.
“Why don’t you work for me this week,” Cooper said. “It’s my fault you don’t have any money coming in.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” When she realized he wasn’t, she asked, “What in the world could I do for you?”
“Consultant. We have a lot to learn about the charter fishing business. Max is putting together a preliminary marketing plan, but we could use your input.”
“Putting together a marketing plan for a business you might or might not own.”
Cooper shrugged one of his broad shoulders. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Clearly he was confident he would prevail. What did he know that she didn’t? Her will was dated after his. End of story. Wasn’t it?
Curious about their marketing plans, she sidled over to the coffee table. They’d apparently been studying a number of brochures and magazine ads for rival charter services.
She picked up a tri-fold piece of paper with some crude sketches, which she guessed was a mock-up for their own brochure.
“That’s really rough,” Max apologized. “I’m a concept man, not an artist.”
“The last word on luxury charter fishing,” Allie read, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Champagne and starlight cruise? Gourmet meal included?”
“We think Remington Charters can pull in a much larger profit if we tap the luxury travel market.”
“In Port Clara.”
“Why not? We’ve got three major metropolitan areas within easy driving distance. If we can give them more luxury for less money than they can get in Corpus Christi or Galveston, why wouldn’t they come to us? But we have to let them know we’re here. How much money do you invest in advertising and marketing?”
Not much, especially lately when she was merely trying to keep her head above water.