Reluctant Partners Page 5

  “You guys think I’m going too far?”

  “Duh.” Max threw a few bills on the table for their waitress. “Why don’t we just let the judge sort it out? If Uncle Johnny really wanted to give his girlfriend a boat, who are we to say no?”

  “She wasn’t his girlfriend.” Cooper was surprised at how quickly he argued that point. But he did believe Allie about that one thing. No one in town had supported his theory that Allie and Johnny were lovers.

  Max shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Why didn’t his cousins get it? Maybe not every woman was out to fleece the male population, but he’d seen enough of the world to know that you should never trust one without proof she was honest.

  Even his own mother made no bones about the fact that she’d married his father more for security than love, though the marriage must have worked on some level, because they were still together and seemed happy, at least outwardly.

  “Women in my day didn’t have the choices available to men,” she’d explained. “I had to marry wealth. I grew up with it, and I wasn’t keen to give it up. Fortunately your father was willing to keep me in the manner to which I’d become accustomed.”

  Cooper had never been sure if she was joking or not.

  If Johnny’s honest intention was to renege on his promise to his nephews and cut them out of his will, Cooper was willing to honor his uncle’s wishes. But he considered it his responsibility to be absolutely sure they weren’t all being hoodwinked.

  ARLEN CALDWELL WAS CLOSE to eighty years old, but his mind was as sharp as any twenty-year-old’s. Unfortunately his eyes weren’t; he inspected his photocopy of Johnny’s will with a magnifying glass.

  He and Allie were seated in his office, which was small and unassuming. The carpeting had a worn track where the attorney no doubt paced as he worked out exactly how he would help his clients to prevail. His leather desk chair was scuffed at the corners, and he still used a wooden file cabinet.

  But everything was neat and scrupulously clean, thanks to his longtime secretary, Janice, who didn’t mind running a dust cloth over the furniture now and then.

  Arlen was a good lawyer, and his age was actually a point in his favor. Sometimes opposing attorneys underestimated him, falling for his doddering-old-fool act.

  “It’s all just as I remember it,” he said after ten minutes of close scrutiny. “It’s entirely proper. So long as the date on this will supersedes the other, and no one can prove Johnny was coerced or incompetent, this will stands.”

  Allie wasn’t entirely relieved. “Coerced or incompetent” left a lot of wiggle room.

  “’Course, we’ll want a sworn statement from Jane Simone that she did witness Johnny signing the will and that he wasn’t drunk or crazy. Is she from around here?”

  “She lives in Houston, but I’m sure she won’t mind making a statement. She’s a good friend. She would even come down here and testify in person, I’m sure. She just needs to know when so she can make arrangements for childcare and such.”

  Jane had an adorable little girl named Kaylee. Her husband couldn’t be counted on to baby-sit-he was a workaholic. Sometimes she wondered why he’d bought the beautiful cabin cruiser, because he seldom sailed it. Jane usually came down just with Kaylee.

  “Johnny wasn’t back on the bottle, was he?” Arlen asked.

  “No, sir, absolutely not. I hadn’t seen him drink a drop this century.”

  “What about the cancer drugs? The pain meds? Did they make him groggy or loopy?”

  “Some. But he didn’t like that, so he usually only took one pain pill right before bed so he could sleep. I can assure you he was awake and alert the day he wrote his will, and Jane will back me up.”

  “I have to ask you this, Allie, but whose idea was it that he write a new will?”

  “It was his,” she answered without hesitation. “I’d put a lot of my own money into upkeep of the Dragonfly, and he was worried that I’d lose everything when he died. He wanted to protect me. He said he was estranged from his family and they didn’t care anything about an old boat.”

  “Oh. You have financial records, I hope.”

  “Absolutely. I make detailed notes about every transaction having to do with the business. I brought copies.” She placed the manila envelope she’d brought with her on his desk.

  He patted her hand in a grandfatherly gesture. “Don’t you worry. We’ll send those Yankees back to New York with their tails between their legs.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She stood up. “How much do you reckon this will cost me?”

  “Well, let’s see…court fees, photocopies, parking-a hundred dollars, give or take.”

  “What about your fee?”

  “This one’s on me, kiddo. Johnny would haunt me from the grave if I let those big-city boys push you around.”

  ALLIE FELT A LITTLE BETTER about things, until she returned to the Dragonfly and found Cooper standing on the dock with Pete Dodson, inspecting the boat’s hull. Now what was he doing hanging around with that scalawag?

  “Oh, good morning, Allie,” Cooper said when he saw her approaching. “Where’ve you been so bright and early?”

  “Seeing my lawyer,” she said pointedly.

  “Hey, Allie,” Pete said. “Your new partner here’s hired me to do some paintin’. ’Bout time, too. The old girl is lookin’ pretty shabby.”

  “Oh, really?” She stared daggers at Cooper. “Mr. Remington, might I have a word with you in private?” She turned without waiting for his agreement, unlocked the hatch, and went below.

  Cooper followed, looking bewildered. “Something wrong?”

  She poured herself some cold coffee and stuck it in the microwave. “Yes, as a matter of fact. Number one, there’s no money in the budget for painting. Number two, if there was money, we would do it in the winter, not right when the tourist season is upon us. Number three, if it was winter, and if we had money in the budget to paint, we would not hire Pete.”

  “What’s wrong with Pete? He says he’ll give us the best price.”

  “He’ll give us a quote, and then he’ll nickel-and-dime us to death, or he’ll walk off and leave the job half done because someone else has offered him a more lucrative job. Plus, he’s the slowest painter in all of Texas.”

  “Well, hell, Allie. I thought I was doing a good thing. The boys and I were brainstorming ways to bring in more customers and charge them more. Anyway, I was just talking to Pete. I haven’t actually hired him. I was going to talk to several boat painters. And I was going to pay for it.”

  “And when the judge awards me ownership of this boat, how would I pay you back?”

  Cooper shrugged. “Guess I’d take you to court and file a lien on the boat till you paid-come on, Allie,” he said when she shrieked, “I’m not serious. I wouldn’t ask for the money back.”

  “I’m supposed to trust you on this? If our positions were reversed, would you trust me?”

  Ah. She could see she had him there. He looked slightly guilty, but only for a moment. “Just how bad are the Remington Charters finances?”

  “Bad enough. I didn’t run any trips those last few weeks. After Johnny died…” she was embarrassed that her voice cracked “…it took a while for me to start booking charters again, and I’m still not up to speed, though business is picking up. I’ve been living hand-to-mouth, juggling the bills, paying only the most urgent.”

  His mouth thinned to a tight crease. “Can we look at the books? Reece is a CPA. Maybe he can help.”

  “I’ve given my lawyer copies of everything pertinent, and I’m sure he’ll send you copies.”

  “Everything pertinent?”

  “Well, not every single page of the ledger, but receipts and copies of bills and what-not.”

  “Reece will want to see it all.”

  “The only thing that will help the finances is lots of paying customers-which we should have in the normal course of business. I expect I’ll get caught up in a few weeks. But
you’re welcome to inspect the books-on the premises.”

  “Only one problem with that. Reece gets seasick.”

  “They make wonderful medicine for that these days.” She took a long sip of her cold coffee. Blech. “We better go give the bad news to Pete that we aren’t hiring him.”

  She could tell Cooper didn’t like it that she’d made the decision. But hers was the name on the Dragonfly’s title.

  At least for a while longer.

  Chapter Five

  Allie got her second surprise when she stepped into the galley to prepare snacks for their 10:00 a.m. charter. A case of upscale beer now occupied the entire lower two shelves of her refrigerator. Either Cooper had a powerful thirst, or he planned on serving their guests alcohol.

  She climbed the steps to the deck, where Cooper was wiping everything down with a sponge and a bucket of soapy water. He wasn’t afraid of hard work, she’d give him that. Once he got a glimmering of how much work there was to do in preparation for each excursion, he’d jumped right in.

  “Cooper!”

  He looked up with a grin. “Yes, Allie?”

  “Have you ever dealt with a bunch of drunks on a boat, armed with fishhooks? It’s not pretty.”

  “I seem to remember Uncle Johnny serving drinks to the guests.”

  Yeah, Allie remembered that, too-and a few cruises where the captain was drunker than the passengers. At least she’d learned how to pilot the boat by then.

  “It’s too much for me to handle alone,” she argued.

  “My cousins and I have been doing some research. If we make high-quality cocktails available, we can charge a lot more. We can hire a college kid to tend bar-in fact, I talked to the bartender at Old Salt last night and she’d be willing to do it for a few bucks.”

  “Sara?” Allie would have a few words to say to her friend. “I don’t want drunk passengers.”

  “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. You want to make a profit, don’t you?”

  She started to argue that she did make a profit. But with the current state of her finances, she couldn’t make a good argument. “Fine. You handle it, though. And if somebody gets drunk and falls overboard, it’s on your head.”

  Once they got that argument out of the way, the morning went more smoothly. Their passengers included two couples and their preteen kids. Children always made Allie a bit nervous, especially when their parents didn’t control them. They usually required a great deal of one-on-one instruction. But this group was well-behaved. And to her surprise, Cooper handled the instruction part just fine.

  Apparently he did know something about fishing.

  When she brought out the platters of cold cuts for lunch, she saw that Cooper was patiently coaching the youngest member of their party, a ten-year-old girl, to pull in her first fish. It was a beautiful red snapper, quite a large one, and Allie held her breath as the girl struggled valiantly to get it into the boat.

  A lot of men would simply have taken over for the small girl, but Cooper cheered on her efforts and offered advice when needed, stepping in only when the fish was out of the water.

  “Nicely done, Brenna.” Cooper had the fish safely in a net.

  The little girl beamed, but then her smile faded. “Do I have to eat him? Or can I put him back in the ocean?”

  Cooper looked at the fish thoughtfully. “He’d be good eating. But if you’d like to let him go, that’s okay.”

  “Can I, Daddy?” she asked her father.

  The girl’s father looked pained-his mouth was probably already watering at the thought of grilled snapper for dinner tonight. But he nodded.

  Allie couldn’t help smiling as Cooper took the fish off the hook and wistfully threw it back in the water. But her smile fled as he stepped away from the family and peeled off his golf shirt, which had apparently gotten wet.

  She nearly dropped her platter.

  Holy cow, muscles like that ought to be outlawed. Maybe he’d built himself up at some pricey health club rather than with hard physical labor, but her hormones sure didn’t know the difference. He had a bit of a farmer’s tan-or rather, a golfer’s tan. But a few more days on the boat with his shirt off, and he’d be smooth, golden brown all over.

  She shivered at the thought.

  Maybe she should get out more. The fact the thought of touching Cooper even crossed her mind felt like a betrayal to Johnny.

  She passed a container of moist towelettes so everyone could wipe their hands before eating.

  “What can I get everyone to drink?” Cooper asked. “We have all kinds of soft drinks, water and Sam Adams beer.”

  One of the men grinned. “Now you’re talking. Bring all the adults a beer.”

  Hmm. She hated to admit it, but maybe Cooper was right.

  They’d scarcely gotten the families disembarked when their afternoon passengers arrived, a group of young, testosterone-laden men. They were probably close to her age, and all of them as handsome as good breeding and lots of money could make them, but not a one of them flipped her switch, even when they flirted with her mercilessly.

  “Heck, Allie,” one of the men said when she turned him down for a date later that night. “One of the main reasons we picked your boat was because your picture’s on the Web site.”

  But Cooper gave him a hard stare and he backed down.

  By the time they were heading back to the harbor, the weather had turned. Threatening thunderheads had pushed in from the south, and the ocean was a bit rougher than it had been. It took all of Allie’s concentration to keep the boat from bucking.

  Cooper appeared at the bridge. “One of the passengers is seasick. Do we have some medicine we could give him?”

  “Yes, but I can’t hunt it down right now.”

  “I can take the bridge.”

  Allie’s first instinct was to say no way. Piloting the boat in smooth waters was one thing, but in this chop?

  Then again, Cooper had so far proved himself perfectly capable. He’d watched her navigate in and out of the harbor three times now; he was probably up to it, and the seas were smoothing out as they got into more protected water.

  “Yeah, okay. Just be careful. The rocks we passed on our way out are hidden by high tide now.”

  “I remember.”

  She scampered down the ladder and below, where one of the men was indeed looking a bit green around the gills. She might regret serving the guys beer after all.

  The instructions she gave all passengers with their reservation confirmation included a list of things they should bring with them, and that included seasick medicine, though she always kept some on hand. But she had to rummage around in a couple of cabinets before she found it.

  She gave some to the green man, then headed back toward the bridge. She checked their position just before climbing the ladder.

  Damn it, Cooper was heading straight for those rocks. She climbed as fast as she could, yelling as she did.

  “Swing hard to port! You’re gonna-”

  A loud thump cut her off. Oh, God. They’d hit something.

  By the time she reached the bridge he’d swung left, and the boat was chugging away from the hazard.

  He turned over the wheel with a murmured “Sorry.”

  She resisted the urge to yell at him, because she’d done the same thing once when she was learning to pilot her father’s boat. They’d probably only bumped a rock.

  Anyway, she was the captain. She was responsible for what happened on this boat.

  “The currents are tricky here,” she explained. “And when the water’s rough, the Dragonfly doesn’t respond as quickly.”

  Cooper said nothing, but she could tell he felt bad.

  “You want to take her in?” she asked, because she knew exactly what he felt like. And she remembered that after she’d nearly wrecked the Ginnie, she’d been terrified to take the wheel again. But her father had explained that it was like riding a bicycle. If you didn’t get right back on after falling off, you might
be scared of bikes the rest of your life.

  “I’ll watch you take her in,” he said quietly. “Maybe I have more to learn than I thought.”

  Well, would miracles never cease? The man who’d stormed her boat acting like he knew everything had just admitted he didn’t.

  She ought to be glad he’d had a scare. Maybe he would realize running a charter service wasn’t all fun and games and change his mind about his new direction in life.

  But that wouldn’t help, she realized. He would still try to take the Dragonfly away. Then he would sell her future to the highest bidder.

  REECE WAS WAITING AT THE DOCK when they pulled in. Although the rain had come and gone, Cooper’s ever-prepared cousin had an umbrella in his hand.

  Cooper had arranged for Reece to come on board and look over the books this evening, which was supposed to be Allie’s night off. He had promised to handle all the post-cruise business, and he would-as soon as his stomach unknotted.

  He still couldn’t believe he’d hit a rock.

  He’d been so sure he knew what he was doing, so intent on proving to Allie that he could do her job as well as she could. He’d figured that by the time the legal battle for the Dragonfly was over, he would have learned anything he needed to about running a charter service, and Allie Bateman would be evicted and on her way.

  But clearly that wasn’t the case.

  He wondered if he could hire Allie as his pilot. She would soon need a job. But he rejected that possibility, just as he’d done the first time it occurred to him. Once he wrested the boat away from her she wasn’t likely to want to work for him. In fact, she would probably go to work for one of the other charter businesses and do her damnedest to run him out of business.

  “How’d it go?” Reece asked as Cooper secured the boat.

  “Not so good,” he admitted.

  He helped their passengers disembark and carried their cooler of fish as far as the dock. The men were in high spirits, even the one who’d been seasick. They promised Cooper and Allie they’d be back next year.

  “It sounds like the customers had a good time,” Reece observed as he followed Cooper onto the boat. She was bobbing up and down so fiercely, they had to time their move just right to avoid falling in the water. “How did the beer thing work out?”