Max showed up at ten minutes to ten with his last contribution-give-away key chains with little dolphins printed with
“Whose phone number is this?” she asked.
“My cell phone,” Cooper answered. At her frown he added, “Don’t worry. If you end up with the boat, I’ll refer any potential customers straight back to you.”
She eyed the stack of glossy brochures suspiciously. It hadn’t occurred to her to check the phone number. She picked up one off the stack and flipped it over. It listed her number, not his.
Cooper smirked at her.
“Very fair-minded of you,” she said. “I’ll extend the same courtesy.”
“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Max announced. “I’m supposed to meet with some artists.” He took off.
“Yeah,” Cooper grumbled, “and if he doesn’t hire them, he’ll take them to bed.”
“He’s a real Romeo, huh?”
“It’s not his fault. The women offer.”
“Jane didn’t offer, I’m pretty sure of that.”
Cooper grinned. “Okay, so it’s partly Max’s fault. He can’t help himself.”
“And what about you?”
“I couldn’t help myself last night, that was for sure.” The look he gave her was so hot she was ready to forget the trade show and go back to bed. But then the convention center doors opened and potential customers streamed in. Allie put on her professional face and prepared to sell the heck out of herself and her business.
Traffic was thin the first couple of hours. Allie struck up a conversation with the woman in the exhibit next door, which was promoting a fancy day spa in the Hill Country. The woman was bored and offered to paint Allie’s nails for free.
“Your nails are a really nice shape,” the woman commented as she applied red polish. Her name was Candy, which seemed appropriate given that she looked like a pop star. “You should grow them out a little.”
“I wouldn’t be able to work with long nails.” Allie could just imagine trying to repair the boat’s engine or bait a fishhook with long claws.
“So is the man working with you your husband?”
Allie laughed. “Oh, Lord, no! He’s someone I’ve been forced to work with for a short while, but very soon he’ll be out of my life.” That thought didn’t bring her as much satisfaction as it should have. Though she was terrified of losing the
Maybe she’d been depressed. She had been doing the bare minimum to get by and no more, taking no real pleasure in her work. She probably would have come out of it eventually as the sting of losing Johnny lessened, but Cooper Remington had jolted her out of it sooner rather than later.
“So he’s unattached?” Candy asked, studying Cooper so intently she blobbed red polish across Allie’s knuckle. “Oops, sorry.” She quickly wiped up the mishap.
“Trust me, you don’t want to mess with him. He’s trouble.”
“I like trouble.”
Allie didn’t doubt it. “He’s a lawyer.”
Rather than dampening Candy’s interest, that tidbit made her nose twitch like that of a bird dog on the scent of quail. “No kidding. Okay, we’re done here. Put your hands under this drying lamp for a few minutes so you don’t smudge. I’ve just
“Your funeral.” But as Candy sashayed out of the spa’s booth, Allie felt distinctly uneasy. Obviously two hours of mindless passion didn’t qualify her to make claims on Cooper. But that didn’t mean she wanted to watch as he made another conquest.
She wasn’t sure who she felt sorrier for-Candy, falling victim to Cooper’s irresistible nature, or Cooper, becoming the target of an obvious man-hunter. Maybe they deserved each other.
Another woman from the spa booth sat down beside Allie. Two other spa employees-all of them dressed in white lab coats open to reveal tight, low-cut shirts and miniskirts-were working on potential customers, giving a chair massage to one and putting makeup on another.
“Hey, thanks for coming over,” the woman said. “Seems to have broken the ice. We have a line forming.”
“No charge. My nails have never looked this pretty.”
“Candy’s good. She’s also good with men, so if you have any claim on that delicious guy in your booth-”
“No, no claim.” She knew her voice was brittle. She couldn’t resist peeking over her shoulder at Cooper and Candy. The two of them were talking and smiling. Cooper was apparently getting Candy signed up for a chance to win a free cruise.
Candy would win over Allie’s dead body.
The ferocity of her thoughts frightened her a bit. Maybe she better remove herself before she said or did something fatally stupid.
“My nails are dry. I think I’ll go walk around a bit.” Maybe if she drew a few customers into the booth, they would get a line, too. She walked up to her own booth, grabbed a stack of brochures without even looking at Cooper and Candy, and set off down the aisle to “work the crowd.” She had no idea how that was really done, since she’d never done it and she wasn’t the world’s most social animal, but she gave it a shot.
She saw two women standing in the middle of the aisle gazing around, apparently trying to decide where to go next. Allie strode up to them with her best smile, holding out one of the brochures.
“Hi, I’m Captain Allie Bateman of Remington Charters out of Port Clara. Would you like to win a free deep-sea fishing adventure for four?” she asked brightly.
“We don’t fish,” one of the women said dismissively.
Allie refused to be discouraged. “I can teach you. Don’t you love fresh red snapper, cooked over the grill with a bit of butter, garlic and tarragon? And I bet your husbands or boyfriends love to fish. Kids love it, too. Do you have kids?”
One of the women took the brochure. “I have a teenage son. He doesn’t love anything.”
“Get him out on the ocean in the fresh air, away from his computer, and I bet he’d have a blast. The Remington Charters booth is just at the end of this aisle on the left. We’re giving away three free cruises.”
“Okay, we’ll sign up.”
As the two women took off, Allie congratulated herself. Cooper could sit around in the booth and flirt if he wanted to; she would show him how to get customers.
She tried a similar approach with men, and it worked even better because lots of them already liked to fish. Husband-wife couples were a little more difficult, especially when the wives caught the husbands looking at Allie’s chest, which they invariably did. One woman declared she wouldn’t let her husband sail on any boat where Allie was sailing, too. But many of them were interested, especially the ones who had kids too old for Disneyland and too young for a Carnival Cruise.
By the time she made a complete circuit around the convention center floor, she’d given away a thick stack of brochures and there was quite a crowd gathered around the booth. Some were signing up for the drawing, some were watching the video and some were listening raptly to Cooper wax enthusiastic about fishing in the Gulf of Mexico. She had to admit, his flair for the dramatic-probably honed through courtroom performances-made a trip with Remington Charters sound like the greatest adventure since Indiana Jones went looking for the lost ark.
Allie worked her way up to the booth. “Miss me?”
“Where have you been?” he asked under his breath, sounding mildly annoyed. “We’re suddenly swamped.”
“We’re swamped because I’ve been out hustling,” she said. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things if you want to take a break. Maybe go next door and hang out with Candy?”
He gave her a blank look. “Candy?”
“The blonde from next door?” Allie nodded toward the spa booth.
“Oh, her.” He looked puzzled for a moment longer, then a slow grin spread across his face. “Jealous?”
“Of course I’m not jealous!” she sputtered. “Just because we…I mean, I don’t have any reason to…That’s ridiculous.” As he seemed to take more and more enjoyment from her indignant response, she realized she was just digging her grave deeper, so she clamped her mouth closed.
He laughed. “You are jealous.”
