Page 19 of Hooked on a Feeling

John turned to her. “Not exactly. You’ve never heard the story?”

“Tell me. And then I want to show you something.”

“They were in business together. Harold and my grandpa, John.”

“John. Of course. So what are you, like, the third?”

“Yes.”

“Naturally. But go on.”

“They were the ones who started Blue when they were in their twenties. So, what? That would have been in the fifties? But it wasn’t called Blue back then. It was—”

“Starboard Ships,” she finished for him.

“How did you know?”

Starr pointed to her grandfather’s office, thinking about the naval drawings on the wall and how half the things in his office had the same design. Including the folder she’d seen. “I saw it in his office.”

“Anyway, something big happened. Big enough that it ruined their friendship, and they never spoke to one another again. They hired lawyers to split the company up. This land that the marina is on used to be owned by my grandfather—well, Starboard Ships—and when they split the company and the assets, this is what your grandfather got.”

Starr wanted to cry. It was sad, really. What had happened so dire that the two of them quit being friends? “Was it a woman that came between them?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Follow me. I want to show you something.”

They walked down the hall, and she reached for the knob to her grandfather’s office. Her hand stilled. It was weird to bring his enemy in there. Well, the grandson of his enemy. She drew back her shoulders, gripped the knob, and twisted, pushing the door open. She flipped the lights on and watched while John took in his surroundings. It meant something to her, to be inside her grandpa’s office, but she could tell by the look on John’s face that it meant more to him. He too was an heir, after all.

“This is magnificent. It’s like a secret room that’s been hidden from me this whole time, and it’s just next door.” He walked up to the nearest drawing. The Starboard Ships logo that was on the portrait in the living room was on every drawing tacked to the wall.

She hadn’t thought too much about it—actually, she’d glossed over it entirely the few times she’d been in there. But inviting John in tonight was clearly an act of fate. He stood in front of the drawing for the longest time before moving on to the next print. She didn’t want to break whatever emotions he was experiencing, so she hung back and watched him take it all in. He brushed his hand along the second print.

“This is a scow bow. Jake taught me about it. Gives more righting movement to the boat.” He turned to Starr, a large smile on his face. “You can carry more sail for a given wind speed.”

“I don’t know much about boats except that they are bad for the environment and bad for me.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Why? They make you seasick?”

“They do. It’s been a while since the last time I was on one, but I’m assuming the same holds true.”

“How long has it been?” John walked to the next drawing, and again he reached out and touched it. Could he feel the life in that artwork of what once was?

“Three and a half years ago. When my grandpa was still healthy enough to take her out.” She left off the part where she’d ended up puking her guts out.

“Tomorrow. Can I take you on my yacht tomorrow? I don’t plan on going to the office.”

What was happening between them? It was more than friendship. She damn well knew she wasn’t staying in Emerald Port much longer, but that didn’t stop her from nodding.

John moved to the next drawing. “This was my grandfather’s yacht. Right here. Why did your grandfather keep this if they hated each other so much? I wish I knew more about their story. How they went from business partners to enemies in the blink of an eye.”

“Maybe it was a storm brewing between them for a long time. You know how that stuff is. You work with someone, thinking it’ll be fine, but then slowly, bit by bit, day by day, the relationship eats at you, and you wake up one morning and realize you can’t be an active participant in their life.”

John turned to her and raised his eyebrow. “Sounds like you’re all too familiar with that.” He stepped in front of her and took her hands in his. “Who?”

Starr shivered at the way his thumbs smoothed the tops of her hands, moving back and forth. “My parents. Super toxic.”

He kept ahold of her wrists, and her mind drifted to the bedroom. How his large hands would feel on her body. How his lips would feel touching her skin. And especially how it would feel to be the center of his attention. Kind of like she was right now. His eyes shifted to her lips, and instead of waiting and wondering if he might kiss her again, she leaned into him, knowing that if anything was going to send her grandfather rolling over in his grave, kissing a Davenport inside his office would be it.

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