Page 11 of Devlin

"I can take a few weeks off, Dad. I wouldlove to race with you. And I know we'd be good together."

"You're very persuasive, but there's one rather large problem—we don't have a boat."

"Let's find one."

"It won't be easy. Every boat in King Harbor that would qualify already has a crew."

"But you know everyone in the sailing world. We can look elsewhere in Maine, maybe Portland or Kennebunkport. The entriesaren't closed yet, are they?"

"Not for three more days. I could put out some feelers…"

"Let's do it. Let's beat the Blackthornes."

"I forgot what a bulldozer you can be when you get an idea in your head," he said, with humor in his eyes. "You're a little like your mother in that way."

"I think she'd say I'm like you. Or maybe all three of us are very stubborn people."

"Too stubborn for our own good probably. How is your mother?"

"She's happy. She and Tim bought a new house. They're moving in next month. It's beautiful; it has a pool and a private tennis court, and it's also close to their country club."

"It sounds nice. What about you? Do you enjoy selling houses?"

"I've found that I'm rather good at it."

"That's not what Iasked."

"It's a good job."

"Hannah…"

"I like parts of it," she conceded. "Meeting people and putting them in their dream homes gives me a lot of pleasure. I do wish I had more autonomy from Mom. It's still her baby, and she doesn't give me a lot of respect."

"You should talk to her about it."

"I have. She admits she has trouble giving up control. But I don'teven know if it's the job that's not making me happy; I just know that there's something missing in my life."

"You never told me what happened to Gary."

She sighed. "He went back to his ex. That's really all there is to say."

"I'm sorry."

"Me, too. Anyway, let's get back to the race. It would be fun for us to do it together and to stick it to the Blackthornes. It'sa win-win."

"Only if we win. Let me think about it."

She bit back a groan of frustration. Her dad had always been a thinker, and patience was not her strength. But if she was going to get him on board, she needed to let him decide on his own.

"Hold on! Is this little Hannah?" a booming voice asked.

She turned her head to see a tall, brown-haired man moving toward theirtable. His weathered, ruddy skin and bright-green eyes made her jump to her feet in delight. "Uncle Joe."

Joe Crawford embraced her with a big bear hug. In his early sixties, Joe was not really her uncle, but he was one of her father's best friends, and for as long as she could remember he'd been Uncle Joe.

Joe's love of sailing had brought him and her father together years ago.Joe was an accountant by day, but on the weekends, he could always be found on one of his boats, and he was currently serving as president of the King Harbor Yacht Club, the organizer of the upcoming race. Maybe she could get him on her side.

"I can't believe you're back in King Harbor," Joe said, as he released her. "You stayed away a long time."

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