Cooper could use the sailing experience while they waited to take full ownership.

Surely his cousins would see the sense in such an argument.

But there was no time to worry about that now. He had to dig through his suitcase and come up with something that made him look less like a corporate lawyer and more like a happy-go-lucky beach bum.

At precisely 10:25, Cooper pulled his rental car into the marina parking lot and hurried to the Dragonfly’s slip. He wasn’t worried that Allie would sail without him. But he didn’t want to delay the cruise and have his customers believe their captain was a slow-moving slacker.

Yeah, Captain Cooper Remington. He liked that. And the customers would like it, too, having a man in charge. Not that he didn’t believe Allie was competent. But she wasn’t very big, probably not real strong, and fishing was a manly sport. If he were paying a bundle for a fishing charter, he would want someone who looked like he knew what he was doing to be giving advice.

He would avoid mentioning the word captain in front of Allie, though. First he would ease her into the idea that he was the one in charge.

As he approached the slip, he saw a group of men in shorts and golf shirts on deck. Some were milling around, others had already found deck chairs. Given their pale complexions, he guessed they were corporate execs on vacation.

Poor stiffs. He felt a bit smug, knowing he’d escaped the hallowed halls of corporate America to live his dream.

These were guys he understood.

“Good morning,” he greeted them. “I’m Cooper Remington, your c-” He stopped himself just in time. “Your co-host. What’s it going to be today, black drum? Maybe some Spanish mackerel?”