Page 32 of Devlin

"Oh, Hannah," Erica said, her smile filling with warmth. "I can't believe I'm finally meeting you. Frank talks about you all the time. But he said you rarely get out toMaine anymore."

"It has been a few years."

"I'm Erica Rogers. Devlin probably told you that. I'm the admin at the Boatworks. I work closely with your father." Her lips tightened as she gave Devlin a hard look. "Or at least I did until this nonsense happened."

Devlin put up a hand. "You know it wasn't my doing."

"It's still wrong. How is Frank feeling, Hannah? I've calledand texted, but he doesn't reply."

"He's all right. He hasn't felt like talking to anyone, but he is considering his options."

"And I'm still working on getting Frank his job back, Erica," Devlin put in. "It's not a done deal as far as I'm concerned."

"I hope not," Erica said. "Losing Frank would cripple the company. In fact, as soon as the rumors start taking hold, we'regoing to be dealing with lots of questions."

"I'm aware of that. Putting that situation aside," Devlin said. "Mason told me that he'd like to participate in the kids' sailing program this summer, but he needs a boat."

Erica frowned. "He should not have bothered you with that."

"Maybe I can help."

"You've done more than enough for us, Devlin. You are not going to buyMason a boat. He's eleven. He can wait. And after what he did today, I should not be rewarding his behavior."

"He loves being on the water," Devlin said. "Like Jim."

She gave him a sad smile. "He is his father's son."

"If we can't find him a boat, we can make him one. It's what we do."

"A seven-foot dinghy isn't on our luxury boating product list," she said with a drysmile.

"I have an idea," Devlin said. "We'll talk on Monday."

"All right. It was nice to meet you, Hannah. Will you tell Frank I'm thinking about him?"

"I will."

As Erica went into the house, they returned to the car.

"How did her husband die?" she asked, as she fastened her seat belt.

"Car accident. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone. Although,to be honest, I think most deaths feel like that, even when you have warning. There's never enough time."

His voice grew rough, and she remembered a night from a long time ago when her father had brought home a drunken, angry, heartbroken Devlin. She'd been sixteen and had just arrived for the summer. Devlin had been twenty-one and a recent college graduate.

Her father had told herto go back into her room, but she'd heard a little of what they'd said to each other, and she knew that a girl Devlin had been dating had passed away. She'd never really heard the details. Her father wouldn't talk about it, and she hadn't seen Devlin again after that summer. She'd heard he'd gone traveling, taking time off to figure out his next move. But she'd wondered if he hadn't gone somewhereto heal.

Glancing over at him now, she saw his hard profile, and wondered if he was remembering, too.

"Was that how it felt to you?" she asked.

He gave her a sharp look. "What are you talking about?"

"I know you suffered a loss, Devlin. I was at the house the night my father let you sleep on our couch a long time ago."

"You were there? I don't remember seeingyou."

"I was in my room when he brought you back from the bar. You were wasted and sad."

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