Kara Lennox - Reluctant Partners

She saw two women standing in the middle of the aisle gazing around, apparently trying to decide where to go next. Allie strode up to them with her best smile, holding out one of the brochures.

“Hi, I’m Captain Allie Bateman of Remington Charters out of Port Clara. Would you like to win a free deep-sea fishing adventure for four?” she asked brightly.

“We don’t fish,” one of the women said dismissively.

Allie refused to be discouraged. “I can teach you. Don’t you love fresh red snapper, cooked over the grill with a bit of butter, garlic and tarragon? And I bet your husbands or boyfriends love to fish. Kids love it, too. Do you have kids?”

One of the women took the brochure. “I have a teenage son. He doesn’t love anything.”

“Get him out on the ocean in the fresh air, away from his computer, and I bet he’d have a blast. The Remington Charters booth is just at the end of this aisle on the left. We’re giving away three free cruises.”

“Okay, we’ll sign up.”

As the two women took off, Allie congratulated herself. Cooper could sit around in the booth and flirt if he wanted to; she would show him how to get customers.

She tried a similar approach with men, and it worked even better because lots of them already liked to fish. Husband-wife couples were a little more difficult, especially when the wives caught the husbands looking at Allie’s chest, which they invariably did. One woman declared she wouldn’t let her husband sail on any boat where Allie was sailing, too. But many of them were interested, especially the ones who had kids too old for Disneyland and too young for a Carnival Cruise.

By the time she made a complete circuit around the convention center floor, she’d given away a thick stack of brochures and there was quite a crowd gathered around the booth. Some were signing up for the drawing, some were watching the video and some were listening raptly to Cooper wax enthusiastic about fishing in the Gulf of Mexico. She had to admit, his flair for the dramatic-probably honed through courtroom performances-made a trip with Remington Charters sound like the greatest adventure since Indiana Jones went looking for the lost ark.

Allie worked her way up to the booth. “Miss me?”

“Where have you been?” he asked under his breath, sounding mildly annoyed. “We’re suddenly swamped.”

“We’re swamped because I’ve been out hustling,” she said. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things if you want to take a break. Maybe go next door and hang out with Candy?”

He gave her a blank look. “Candy?”

“The blonde from next door?” Allie nodded toward the spa booth.

“Oh, her.” He looked puzzled for a moment longer, then a slow grin spread across his face. “Jealous?”

“Of course I’m not jealous!” she sputtered. “Just because we…I mean, I don’t have any reason to…That’s ridiculous.” As he seemed to take more and more enjoyment from her indignant response, she realized she was just digging her grave deeper, so she clamped her mouth closed.

He laughed. “You are jealous.”

Denials were useless. She sighed. “Would anyone like a free key chain?” she asked the small crowd. “When you squeeze the dolphin his eyes light up.” All of the women with small children jumped at the dolphin key chains. Cooper, still smiling, took his own stack of brochures and went to work on the convention floor. Shortly after, a small flurry of women approached the booth. Wouldn’t they be surprised if they booked cruises for a few weeks later in the season and arrived to find no sign of Cooper?

They stayed busy the rest of the day with a constant stream of potential customers, some of them seriously interested. By the end of the day Allie’s feet were killing her, her throat was sore and her hair was coming loose from its moorings. But the fishing basket was stuffed with entries, which meant lots of names to add to their mailing list, and they’d booked seven reservations for future cruises with deposits paid.

Allie’s cell phone had started ringing, too. Apparently some people who hadn’t actually made it to the booth had looked at the brochure later and had been intrigued enough to ask questions.

When the last of the convention attendees were shuttled out of the building, Allie collapsed into a chair. “Just shoot me now. That was the hardest work I’ve ever done.”

Cooper looked exceedingly pleased with himself. “And just think, tomorrow we get to do it all again.”

“Do you think someone could bring a stretcher to carry me back to the hotel? My shoes are rubbing blisters.”

“I just bought you a whole box of Band-Aids.”

“They’re back at the hotel.”

Cooper, still seemingly full of energy, was packing and straightening up the booth. “I’ll get the car and pick you up at the exit so you don’t have to walk so far.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“You’ll have a couple of hours to rest and put your feet up before the party.”

Allie sat up straighter. “Party? What party?”

“We’ve been invited to a cocktail party hosted by the Gulf Coast Yacht Club.”

Allie yawned. “You’ll have to go without me. The only thing on my agenda this evening is a long, hot bath and an early bedtime.” She didn’t want to elaborate on exactly why she hadn’t gotten enough sleep last night, because she was kind of hoping Cooper had forgotten about it.

“You have to go,” he said. “The members of this club are exactly the sort of customers we want-very wealthy and already into boats.”

“If they already own boats, why would they want to charter ours? I mean, mine.” She couldn’t believe she’d slipped like that.

“Because we don’t just offer a boat. We provide them with the whole package-the equipment, the bait, the fish-cleaning.”

“So what do you need me for? Clearly you can talk up Remington Charters without my help.”

“Trust me, you need to be there. You’re part of the package.”

“Oh, so you want the men to ogle my breasts while you sell them on the business? Is that it?”

Cooper’s face clouded. “No, Allie, that is not it. You are the best fishing guide in Port Clara, and possibly the whole Texas Gulf Coast. Everybody agrees you can find the fish, you know what bait to use. Yeah, the men like to look at you. But the moment you open your mouth and start talking fishing, they’re mesmerized.

“Maybe it escaped your attention,” he concluded, “but we work well as a team.”

She forced herself to relax. Yes, she had noticed it. He was strong in areas where she was weak, and vice versa. “I’m sure the party would be loads of fun and good for business, but I don’t have anything appropriate to wear to a cocktail party.”

“What about the dress?” His voice went slightly husky, and his eyes grew bright and hot.

“I didn’t bring it.”

“Sure, you did. Go look in your suitcase.”

Cooper had just managed to extricate himself from another uncomfortable phone call from his mother when Allie emerged from her room wearing the halter dress, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. She’d swept her hair up on top of her head, secured with a gold clip, and her makeup was more dramatic than it had been during the day.

“Wow. You look like a dream.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”

Okay, so she wasn’t happy that he’d bought the dress despite her veto. She’d get over it. “Has no one ever taught you how to take a compliment? The correct response is, ‘Thank you.’ Perhaps adding, ‘You look nice, too.’”

She seemed to see him for the first time, eyeing him up and down. She cocked her head to one side. “You do look nice. No, nice isn’t the right word. Fantastic. Movie starish. Godlike. But you must be used to hearing that about yourself. I’m not. I know I’m not beautiful, so when you say that I am, it makes me suspicious, that’s all.”