Cooper bit his lip. “See you later, then.”
As she disembarked, he mouthed a silent thank you.
COOPER HAD BEEN HOPING FOR more time to prepare for his brother’s visit, but at least Allie was playing along. He wasn’t sure why it even mattered. So what if Derek thought he was insane for wanting to fish for a living? But all his life he’d been competing with his brother-partly thanks to the fact their father always pitted them against each other-and he couldn’t bear the thought of Derek returning to Manhattan with tales of how deluded Cooper was and what a mess he was making of his life.
“So this is for real?” Derek asked. “I figured you’d play around on the boat for a week, then put it up for sale and come home.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Cooper assured him. As he did, something tight uncoiled inside him. He didn’t have to worry anymore whether Derek approved. Derek had no power over him-none. The resentment he’d felt for his brother vanished like the morning mist and with it had gone any need for subterfuge.
Cooper took a deep breath. “Allie isn’t really my fish-finder, although she’s damn good at finding fish. She’s my partner.” Man, it felt good to say that. “Johnny wrote a new will, awarding her the Dragonfly. She has a legitimate claim, and she’s sunk her life savings into this tub. It’s all being sorted out in court Friday, but until then we’re working together to keep the charter business going.”
Derek looked at him as if he’d just announced he ate small children for breakfast. “I knew you’d come down here and gotten yourself into trouble. What time is the hearing? I’ll have to rearrange my schedule-”
“No, Derek. I don’t want you there.”
“Do you want to keep the boat or not?” Derek asked, utterly baffled.
“I do. But I want to keep the girl, too.”
ALLIE WAS QUITE PLEASED with their morning charter the following day. She’d spent the previous evening preparing ingredients for a slightly more upscale breakfast for the two men and one fourteen-year-old boy who were their passengers. Everyone, including Cooper, devoured the sausage-and-egg wraps, which bore no resemblance to the fast-food version of the same dish. Allie’s exploded with the taste of fresh herbs and real aged cheddar cheese.
They were fishing for barracuda, and the fish were being elusive, but the men didn’t seem to care. And when the boy caught the one and only fish of the day, he came unglued he was so excited, and the two men coached him on how to bring in the big fish. So all in all it was a good trip.
As soon as the passengers were gone, she and Cooper got to work cleaning and straightening and preparing for Derek and Sylvia’s visit. But Cooper seemed relaxed about the whole thing.
“Oh, by the way,” he said, “I told Derek everything. He knows about the two wills, and the fact we’re partners.”
“Really. What was his reaction?”
“He thinks I’ve gone ’round the bend. Which maybe I have. Allie, tell me honestly. When I first got here, was I like him?”
“I’m afraid so.” When she saw the disappointment on his face, she gave him a break. “Okay, you were only somewhat like him.”
“By moving down here, I might have saved myself just in time.”
After all the build-up, the cruise with Derek and Sylvia was anticlimactic. Sylvia was about what you’d expect a corporate lawyer’s wife to be-beautiful and polished and well-spoken, polite to the extreme but reserved.
The couple wasn’t terribly interested in fish, but Cooper baited their hooks and put their lines in the water, anyway. And when Sylvia’s line went taught, the haughty look disappeared from her face and she squealed with excitement.
Allie watched from the bridge as Cooper coached her on how to bring it in. She fought it for nearly two hours, and by the time she brought it in-a good-sized sailfish, of all unexpected things-she was sweaty and sore and sunburned, and she declared it was the most fun she’d ever had in her life.
As Cooper piloted the boat toward home, Derek and Sylvia ate the chicken tarragon salad on croissants and steamed asparagus Allie and Sara served, raving about it the whole time.
The two of them left Port Clara totally sold on fishing and promised they would return in the fall for a longer visit.
Allie wondered which one of them, her or Cooper, they would find running Remington Charters.
Chapter Sixteen
Friday came way too soon.
Allie and Cooper had a morning charter, and ironically it was probably their smoothest and best ever. The three male passengers spent most of their time upping each other, seeing who could bring in the most snapper. Their wives, however, were far more interested in Allie’s cooking, going so far as to invade the galley to find out how she was making those delicious wraps.
As she worked, Allie was keenly aware of the fact this was her and Cooper’s final cruise together-and possibly her last outing on the Dragonfly.
She took the bridge on the way home and left their passengers to Cooper’s capable care. “Well, Johnny, I gave it my best shot,” she said, knowing the drone of the engines and the wind would drown out her voice. “The truth is, I’m not sure I could’ve made it on my own. If Cooper wins, he’ll do you proud.”
As the boat neared port, Allie mentally recorded every detail of the experience-how the wind felt against her skin, the smell of the salt air, the way the sun sparkled on the water.
It all felt different since Cooper had come into her life. She would find a way back on the water, that she knew. But it would never be the same.
After they’d seen their passengers off, Allie barely had time to return to the bed-and-breakfast-she hadn’t yet moved back onto the boat, since she might have to move right back off-and grab a shower. She dressed in the white outfit for court, since it was the only thing she owned remotely appropriate, but she wore a high-necked black shirt underneath so as not to flash her cleavage.
She met Arlen Caldwell in front of the courthouse. He’d caught a cold, and he sneezed into a giant handkerchief every couple of minutes.
“So what do you think?” Allie asked the elderly attorney. “Are we going to win?”
“As I’ve said from the beginning, the law’s on your side,” he answered. “It all depends on what kind of tricks that shyster from New York tries to pull. But Judge Isaacs is no dummy. He won’t be taken in by smoke and mirrors.”
Allie smiled at Arlen’s description of Cooper as a shyster. She’d have said the same thing a few weeks ago.
Cooper’s BMW pulled into the parking lot, and that was her cue to hustle Arlen inside. She hadn’t seen him since they’d parted ways after the morning charter; they’d managed to avoid each other at the Sunsetter. If she saw him now she might lose it.
Once they were in the courtroom, she planned to simply not look his way.
The courtroom wasn’t like she pictured it. For one thing, it was tiny. The judge sat behind a normal-looking desk, not one of those giant, imposing things she’d seen on TV. A small table was set up for each party in the dispute. A half-dozen folding chairs accommodated anyone else interested in the proceedings.
Allie and Arlen took their places behind their table; Cooper, Reece and Max filed in right behind them and sat at theirs. They all wore sober suits, even Max, though unlike his cousins he appeared ill at ease in his, tugging often at the collar. Apparently Reece had postponed his trip back to New York.
Sara showed up, too, looking like a colorful butterfly in her paisley-print skirt. She gave Allie a little finger wave and found a chair.
Cooper looked Allie’s way, and she quickly averted her gaze. Darn it, she said she wasn’t going to look at him. Her throat was already tight, and if she was required to testify she feared her voice would come out sounding like Minnie Mouse.