Page 8 of Hooked on a Feeling

John still kept the box from Jake’s reach. “No, you aren’t.”

Jake pressed his hands to his chest and smoothed his shirt. “I’m the specialest because I’m a twin. So yeah, I’m her favorite. Tell him, Mom.”

Their mom rolled her eyes. “Boys. You know I don’t have a favorite, and ‘specialest’ in that context is not a word. You are a specialist in your field. You are not more special than your siblings.” She put her hands up in that typical mom way that said her job there was done and walked out the door. She turned back and pointed to John and the box of doughnuts. “Johnny, share.” Then she was gone, and John realized they hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about the marina and what she knew about Starr.

“You get one.” John opened the box and kept a close eye on Jake taking only a single doughnut.

“Don’t tell me that you’re still grouchy about the marina.”

John scoffed. “Fuck, Judge has a big mouth.”

Jake nodded. “He does.” Jake took a bite of his doughnut and spoke around it. “Did you see the plans I drew up for the Bottwells’ account?”

Jake was the naval architect for Blue, and he was damn good at his job. It wasn’t often that the plans he put together had to be redone. “Yep. They look good. I already sent them to the Bottwells. I’m expecting that we’ll hear back by next week.”

“Sweet. Thanks for the doughnut.” Jake turned his attention to the window. “Oh shit, look!”

John turned his head for a brief second and realized he’d been duped. Jake was already heading out the office door with another doughnut in hand. “Loser,” John called after his little brother. But he couldn’t be too mad because there she was. Starr stood on the docks with a man. Both faced her marina, and the man made notes while Starr pointed this way and that.

“Fuck it.” John had had enough. He was going to go down there and see what she was up to.

* * *

“Thank you. I’ll let you know as soon as I can figure something out.” Starr waved goodbye to the contractor and steeled her facial expression so the nice guy wouldn’t know she was a complete fraud. There wasn’t enough money to fix up the marina. There never would be enough. It was going to take a billionaire. That was clear as day. She’d wanted to get a bid on what it would take to fix a few parts of the gutter, paint the building, and start working on the dock. They hadn’t even looked at the restaurant. This guy pointed out that the roof shingles needed to be replaced, and she wasn’t too thrilled to learn that the concrete along part of the dock was starting to crack and sink.

Which explained why the wooden slats along that part of the walkway were uneven. Why John Davenport had tripped and fallen into the water. Her heart skipped at the thought of that man. She’d spent too much time looking at Blue Horizons and not enough time sorting through her grandfather’s things.

She dialed her dad’s cell phone, holding the paper she’d just gotten from the contractor. A bid that was similar to half a year’s worth of mortgage payments.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Dad. How’s it going?” She hated talking to her parents about anything serious. Because they were never serious. And they never took into consideration how problems could be fixed. Their attitude was too lackadaisical for Starr.

“Just fine. How is Emerald Port?”

“Good. I think I’m going to be here longer than I anticipated.” She scribbled down a note to cancel her original flight, already thinking about when she should reschedule it for. Next Friday?

“Oh?” Her dad’s voice perked up, as if she were going to stay because of something good. “Business booming down there?”

Irritation ran through her veins, and she recalled the last time she’d been over at her parents’ house. Unopened ledgers from Lyle had been on their kitchen table along with old newspapers and piles of coupons they’d yet to open or throw away. “Don’t you read any of the papers Lyle sends? The place is falling apart. There is no way anyone would want to buy it when it comes out of the trust. It’s that bad.”

She walked from the docks to the parking lot. Even the parking lot needed to be repaved and the parking slots repainted. Soon the pressure of the stressful situation she was facing was going to bury her. Drown her. Talk about not being able to do anything about a situation.

“It is what it is, Starr. Maybe you could open it up as a community project and ask for volunteers.” Her dad coughed like he was smoking a joint. “That’s it. Help the marina. People love that stuff. That would solve all of your problems. Look, I gotta go. Food delivery is here.”

The call ended, and Starr stared at her phone in shock. Hate was such a strong word, but damn it if she didn’t hate her parents. They didn’t care about Starr. They didn’t care that her yoga studio was running at half capacity while she was in Emerald Port because it was open half the hours it normally was. That she was ultimately losing half her income.

She swallowed down the hurt that threatened to come out of her eyes and nose and mouth. She was stronger than this. She wouldn’t cry. She’d taken her yoga shop from an empty studio with hardly a wall to a full-on training center. The bell rang signaling the drawbridge was going back down, and it snapped Starr out of her mood.

She had to forget her mom and dad. She was here because of her grandparents. She was doing this for them. The small cut in proceeds from the studio was the least she could do for her grandparents. If she needed to repeat this mantra every day in her head while she was here, then she would. Nothing would stop her from respecting their—

“Hi.”

She jumped and spun around, coming face-to-face with John. She clutched her neck. “Jesus, you scared the crap out of me.”

“John, not Jesus,” he teased. He gave her a warm smile then must have realized she was in a mood because he stepped back. “Are you okay?”

“No. I’m not okay. I have my hands full here, and I don’t even know where to begin.”

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