That was the problem. She’d seen it, too-in his face every time he took the wheel. His love for the sea was real, if nothing else.
She didn’t want to feel this way-sympathetic with Cooper. She wanted to keep hating him.
He hadn’t visited Johnny when he was alive, she reminded herself. He let his uncle die with no family around him.
She stood abruptly. “Well, we have a trade show to prepare for. What’s next, boss?”
“INSERT ROD K INTO SLOT P-” Allie read from the directions for assembling their rented booth “-being careful to-”
The top canopy suddenly came crashing down on Cooper’s head. He let loose with a few select curses while Allie struggled not to laugh.
“-being careful to not let the thing fall on your head?” Cooper finished for her.
The unassembled booth had been waiting for them when they arrived at the convention center. Cooper, who seemed to be a font of endless ready cash, had been willing to pay someone to put it together, but all of the booth company’s people were busy.
“I think maybe this requires two sets of hands,” Allie said. She was trying to be helpful and cooperative. On the drive down, they had agreed to put aside their legal dispute during the course of the trade show: otherwise they would never accomplish what needed to get done. “I’ll get on the ladder and hold this part steady, and you can do the inserting of rods into slots.”
When she realized what she’d just said, her face heated up and she cursed her redhead’s propensity for blushing.
Cooper flashed her a grin. “Whatever you say.”
With a bit more effort, some trial and error, and a minimum of mishaps, the booth came together. It was small and bare bones, but it would get the job done.
Max had put together a video that would continuously play on a wide-screen TV in their booth; with Allie’s help he’d tracked down some footage one of the passengers had taken. The video also included interviews with Cooper and Allie as “co-captains,” something Allie had agreed to only grudgingly.
Allie had only seen a rough cut of the video. Now, as she watched it in the booth, she was amazed at how professional the final result was. Background music, titles and graphics made all the difference.
“Max spent a couple of years in film school before he decided to go into advertising,” Cooper said. He stood beside Allie watching the video.
“He certainly has a lot of creative talent. It never even occurred to me to try something like this.”
Max himself showed up later in the day, bringing printed brochures with him. Allie had been consulted on the copy for the brochures. She’d balked at first when the Remingtons wanted to offer gourmet lunch charters and the newly envisioned “champagne starlight” cruises. When the court ruled in her favor and the Remingtons returned to New York with their tails between their legs, how would she fulfill that level of service and luxury on her own?
But Sara, who’d been hanging at the fringes of the planning sessions all week, had offered to help her if needed. And, truth be known, the new ideas excited Allie. She missed the days when she and Johnny used to serve cocktails and a full-service, fancy lunch, and the Remingtons’ proposals were a step up even from that.
Max had also brought a banner. The two cousins worked together to hang it, joking and laughing in a way that made Allie mildly jealous. Though she and Cooper weren’t arguing, the tension between them was tight as a fishing line pulling in a shark. Yet he wasn’t always the arrogant, entitled jerk his first impression might suggest.
She found she enjoyed hearing him laugh, and she listened for it as she pretended to be busy pinning a navy-blue skirt around their booth.
As a lure to get people to visit their booth, they were raffling away three free cruises, which would give them a mailing list.
“Ow!” Damn it, she’d stuck herself with a pin.
Cooper turned from his position on the ladder. “You okay?”
“It’s nothing.” Though the jab was bad enough that she was bleeding. That would teach her to pay attention to Cooper’s butt instead of the task at hand.
She went to her purse to find a tissue, and when that proved fruitless she realized she was going to have to make a trip to the ladies’ room.
She turned and nearly mowed down Cooper.
“What happened? You’re bleeding.”
“I jabbed myself with a pin. It’s nothing.”
To her surprise he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“Thank you.” She wrapped the hanky around her finger and squeezed to stop the bleeding. “I’ve never actually seen a person under the age of seventy carry a handkerchief.”
“It’s an old habit. My mother is big on stuff like that. But see how handy I can be?”
Handy wasn’t really the word she would use. Concerned would be more accurate, which didn’t jibe with the man she wanted to believe he was.
“I need a Band-Aid,” she said. The injury was minor, and it had already stopped bleeding. But if she didn’t cover it, it would sting every time she picked something up.
“Maybe they have a first-aid station somewhere. If not, I saw a drugstore a couple of blocks away.”
“It’s not worth a special trip.” She spied a roll of masking tape and grabbed it. “This’ll do for now.”
“You’ll get an infection and your hand will drop off.”
“Cooper, get a grip. It’s a tiny pinprick.”
“Just don’t want anything to happen to my partner.”
She got an odd feeling in her chest, hearing the word partner. Johnny used to call her that, and it made her feel proud. But coming from Cooper…the feeling was altogether different.
Much as she hated to admit it, she was having fun working on this project with Cooper. She enjoyed brainstorming and sharing problems and responsibilities with someone else. That was one of the things she missed about Johnny-having someone around to bounce ideas off of.
Someone who listened, and actually valued what she had to say. Someone who cared if she hurt herself, even if it was only a pinprick.
She’d spent far too much time alone the past couple of months, and it was time she faced facts: she couldn’t run the fishing charter business by herself. It was too much work for one person, too much responsibility, and it was also a bit dangerous.
What if something happened to her when they were out to sea? What if one of her passengers had an accident or a heart attack? She couldn’t take care of a crisis and pilot the boat back to shore. And if she were incapacitated, her passengers would have to figure out how to navigate home or summon the Coast Guard.
She needed a partner, and someone like Cooper would be ideal-if they weren’t enemies.
Oh, sure, they were cordial now. But if he lost his bid to claim the Dragonfly-when he lost-he would be furious at her. He would never consent to buy into her business, no matter how much cash he had in his bank account. It was much more likely he would buy his own boat and compete with her.
Besides, he already had partners, two cousins with whom he shared blood and a long history. He had no need for her.
“Is Max staying for the trade show?” Allie asked, needing a distraction from her disturbing thoughts.
“He’ll help us get set up in the morning,” Cooper answered, “but then he’s taking off. He’s on a hunt to hire a graphic artist. For this project he had to rely on a freelancer from New York, and the cost was astronomical.”
“Too bad he can’t hire Jane,” Allie said quietly, so Max wouldn’t overhear, as she wrapped a piece of masking tape around her smarting finger. “She’s very talented. I think she worked as an artist before she got married.”