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The look Dec shot me as he pulled into a parking space at the marina said he didn’t think much of my question. Certainly, I’d heard of hurricanes hitting Florida, but I hadn’t given it any real thought before flying out here. We didn’t have hurricanes in California. Earthquakes, sure, but hurricanes were as foreign to me as blizzards.
I looked around at the marina, taking in all the boats lined up, some much bigger than others. I knew almost next to nothing about boats too. I liked to look at them as they sailed by under our tall bridges in San Francisco, but that was the extent of my knowledge.
Lightning cracked and the thunder right after had me feeling jumpy.
“Best get inside before it pours.” Dec slid out of his truck and came around to help me out too. He reached into the back seat for a leather portfolio of some sort before shutting my door. We hustled in the direction of a small building built at the base of the marina. A few raindrops fell as a warning and then the entire sky of rain clouds seemed to dump all at once.
Dec grabbed my arm and held the portfolio over my head as we began to run. Perhaps I’d misjudged Dec my first day here. Only a gentleman would try to save a woman’s new hair.
As soon as we made it under the overhang of the building, he let me go, shaking off his portfolio. I jumped as another crack of lightning lit the suddenly gloomy afternoon. The only good thing about these storms was they cooled off the temperature by at least ten degrees.
Dec gestured to the white-and-blue sign affixed to the gray plank siding of the building. “Welcome to Captain’s Boat Club, sunshine.”
Mom: Well??
Me: It’s kind of complicated. I get the house and financial accounts, but only if I run her boat club with the next-door neighbor for a full year.
Mom: WHAT? Oh, honey, just come home. Don’t let Maeve manipulate you like this.
Me: I’m taking some time to think about it. It’s not a horrible idea…
Mom: What’s so great about staying in Florida and running a boat club? You don’t know the first thing about boats.
Me: I know you have to lower the prop before you give it some gas…
Mom: That’s oddly specific, honey. I feel like I should fly out there. You’re in over your head.
I rolled my eyes. I’d been taking care of Mom since I was eight years old. If anyone was in over their head at any given time, it was Mom. A separate text came through, distracting me.
Dec: We need to come up with a plan. Are you in or out?
A surge of crackling energy filled my veins. Maybe it was my shiny new hair. Maybe it was the kindness of Char or having absolutely zero reasons to go back home to San Francisco to the shambles of my life. Whatever it was, I was ready for adventure.
Me: Count me in. Let’s meet up tomorrow morning after you’re back from fishing.
Chapter Eight
Dec
I’d been to this boat club on more than one occasion with Maeve over the years, but there was a new level of respect to the handshakes this time around. Kenna and I were the new owners now that Kenna had decided to stick around.
“So, that about does it for the office tour, folks,” Irene wheezed, flopping down in her dilapidated chair behind her desk. I could barely see the woman over the stacks of paperwork.
Irene had shown us everything there was to see in the rental office and it was mostly a laundry list of updates that needed to happen in the next year or the whole building might collapse on our heads. I shook my head, guilt wracking me. I should have been watching out for Maeve more, checking in on her house and business. She’d been sidetracked with the cancer diagnosis the last few years, yet insisted all was well. I should have known better.
Kenna spun in a circle, her new hair fanning out like she stepped out of a fashion magazine, but her outfit screamed preteen tourist. I wasn’t sure if the teeth she was showing were from a smile or a grimace. Maybe a bit of both. “Okay, well, it looks like the weather has cleared up. We’ll get out of your way.”
“You can come back anytime, handsome.” Irene lit up a cigarette and clamped down on it between red painted lips before sending me a wink.
Kenna stepped outside and I gave Irene a quick head nod before exiting. Now I remembered why I didn’t stop by often. Last time Irene had made an ass grab. The storm clouds had indeed moved on, painting the air with enough moisture to have you dripping sweat in seconds.
Kenna gave me side eye. “Handsome, huh?”
“Hey, Dec!” Johnny, one of the deckhands, called from a tritoon tied to the dock, saving me from that thread of conversation. “Want to see it from the water?”
Kenna looked at me to answer. I wasn’t sure she was ready to go out on a boat, but there was no time like the present. She needed to know what she was getting into if she decided to stay.
“That sounds great,” I called back.
