Kara Lennox - Reluctant Partners

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.

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.

“Are both parties ready to start?” Judge Isaacs asked.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Cooper said. Lord, even speaking those three simple words, his voice rang with sincerity.

“We’re ready, Your Honor,” Arlen said. His voice was scratchy, and he sneezed again into his handkerchief.

“I’ve read both wills cover to cover,” the judge said, “and I’ve read the depositions provided by both parties. Mr. Remington-Mr. Cooper Remington, that is-you’re representing yourself and your cousins, is that correct?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Did you have anything to add at this time?”

“No, Your Honor. I believe the documents speak for themselves.”

Allie nearly fainted. A lawyer who didn’t want to stand up and pontificate when he had the chance?

“Mr. Arlen Caldwell, have you anything to add?”

Arlen stood. He opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it, and closed it again. “No, Your Honor, I concur with Mr. Remington. The documentation speaks for itself.”

“Then I’m prepared to render my decision.”

Now Allie really did feel lightheaded. So soon? She’d expected some kind of recess, during which the judge would ponder the facts before announcing the verdict. But since neither party added new information today, he must have already known how he was going to rule.

That didn’t mean she was ready for it.

Arlen, sensing her distress, patted her hand reassuringly.

“The handwritten will,” the judge began, “appears to be legal in every respect. Since the date on this will supersedes that of the other will, it takes priority. Therefore, I am awarding full ownership of the boat known as the Dragonfly, and everything on it, to Ms. Allison Bateman.”

Allie closed her eyes. Just like that, it was over, and she’d won. She’d expected to feel triumphant at this moment, but she felt a curious emptiness inside.

“However,” the judge said, and Allie’s eyes flew open, “the handwritten will makes no mention of the business known as Remington Charters, Incorporated. The earlier will, however, specifically spells out Johnny Remington’s wishes in regard to that business, which is a separate legal entity from the boat.”

What? Allie glanced over at Arlen. He looked suddenly worried.

“Therefore,” the judge continued, “I hereby award ownership of the corporation known as Remington Charters to Cooper Remington, Reece Remington and Maxwell Remington, to be shared equally among them. Allie Bateman, you will cease and desist using the Remington Charters name or logo, and you will turn over ownership of any corporate bank accounts and all records pertaining to the business, and the fruits of any contracts you entered into under the Remington Charters name, to Mr. Cooper Remington, representative for all three Remington parties.”

The judge droned on and on about how if she didn’t follow his orders in a timely fashion, a representative of the court would step in then. But her ears were buzzing so loudly she couldn’t hear.

Her first thought was to suspect Cooper of somehow engineering this disaster. But when she glanced over at him, she could see he was just as stunned as she was. The Remington cousins were all staring at each other, slack-jawed.

The judge ended the hearing, but Allie just sat there, because she didn’t think her rubbery legs would hold her up.

“I guess I should have seen this coming,” Arlen said in a low voice. “But I’d always thought of the boat and the fishing business as one and the same.”