“Good, right?” She raised her runaway eyebrows.
“It is good.” She’d forgotten how good. “Are you going to answer my question?”
“What question?” Another bite.
“Why would my dad give your portfolio to someone else?”
“Not just anyone. Ted Kauffmann.”
“So? My dad knows you. It seems like he would want to handle your finances.”
“All I know is he called me and said he thought Ted would do a better job with my type of investments. I don’t really ask questions.”
Clearly. She didn’t even open her statements.
“Besides, Daniel agreed. He said this was what was best. I figured if anyone was going to look out for me, it was those two. So I didn’t put up a fuss.”
“Daniel?”
“Yes, and we all know how savvy he was.”
Louisa knew. Everyone knew. Warren might’ve been groomed for this, but Daniel raised-by-a-mechanic Boggs was the natural. Louisa thought it was fabulous. She loved a self-made man. And she’d loved Daniel. Everyone did.
“How else was Daniel involved in this?” Louisa asked.
Maggie tipped her bowl back and drank her sugared milk. “He wasn’t.” She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt.
“But he had a withdrawal from his personal account that matches this number,” Louisa said, pointing to the statement.
Maggie’s brows turned into one straight line. “Coincidence?”
“It was two days before this deposit went into your account.”
The old woman shrugged. “Ask your dad. He would remember better than me.”
But Louisa knew that wasn’t an option. Her father had told her not to go “poking around graves”—which in a way she’d obeyed because she wasn’t poking; she was digging.
Now, as she trudged toward the marina, her heart kicked up a notch. She wasn’t sure if it was because she and Cody had only practiced in the pond before this point or because she could see him up ahead, readying their boat.
This is not a date.
She could tell that to herself a million times over, but no part of her heart was buying it. Her mornings with Cody had become the thing she looked forward to most in her days. And she couldn’t say for sure, but he seemed to enjoy them too.
He spotted her and waved.
She admired him as she grabbed on to the straps of her backpack and plodded toward him. Every day she wondered if this would be the day the buzzing sensation she felt down to her toes whenever she saw him would finally go away.
Her stomach somersaulted as if in reply to that question. Today was not that day.
“You ready for this?” He stood at the center of a small sailboat.
She clung to her backpack, which was filled with unnecessary items save the water bottle she’d filled that morning in case they got stranded in the middle of open water. Never mind that their plan for the day wouldn’t take them more than a mile out, and Cody had promised to keep land in sight at all times.
She’d gotten better in the pond—but this, the ocean, was a whole different fear. Still, it struck her as she packed a raincoat, an umbrella, a tin of Altoids, and a hairbrush, that this new fear of water was beginning to define her. And she didn’t like it.
“I’m ready,” she said.
He offered his hand, and she told herself to stay cool. He’d helped her into the boat every morning that week. She’d yet to stay cool. Today would be her day.
She reached out and took a step, but she quickly lost her footing and started to fall. His other hand snapped to her waist, where he promptly steadied her and took her breath away at the same time.
So maybe tomorrow would be the day she stayed cool?
“Sorry,” she said.
“You’re clumsy.”
Only when I’m with you.
“Yeah, aren’t you glad I’m your sailing partner?”
He smirked in her general direction but didn’t reply.
Her second attempt to get in the boat proved to be successful, and she sat down. While Cody rigged the boat, he quizzed Louisa on various sailing terms, none of which she knew before this week.
He pointed. “What’s this?”
“Tiller.”
“Connected to . . . ?”
“The rudder.”
“And this?”
“Mainsail.”
“And this?” He held up a life vest.
She shot him an unamused look, but secretly she was very amused. This past week during their not-dates, she’d purposed to wear him down, to make him like her again. His whole mood seemed different today, so maybe it was working.
She tugged the life vest over her head as they made their way out of the marina and into open water.
“I was thinking we should go talk to that Ted guy.” He kept his eyes straight ahead, shaded only by the bill of his ball cap.
She was thankful he didn’t look at her. She much preferred to study him without his knowledge. She leaned back, resting against the side of the boat, letting him do all the work because he was far better at it than she was. And she was far better at admiring his biceps. If they had any hope of not embarrassing themselves at the regatta, it was only because of Cody.
“What do you think?” He glanced at her.
“We can do that if you want.” She didn’t tell him the downside of that was Ted could possibly tell her father they’d paid him a visit, and she really didn’t want him knowing about any of this.
“You could invite him to the regatta. He’s probably got money to donate.”
In the distance, she could see Brant Point lighthouse, and the memory of simpler times drifted through her mind. “Sure.”
“You think it’s a bad idea?”
“No, I think it’s fine,” she said.
She could feel him looking at her. “What is it then?”
“Do you remember all those birthday wishes we made?” She found his eyes, held them for as long as he would allow. “I kept yours in a jar and stashed them in my hope chest.”
His jaw twitched.
“I think my funniest one was ‘I want to raise chickens.’” Should she tell him how it broke her heart to think of the years they’d lost being angry with each other or that she couldn’t help but wonder if his being here now was a chance to make things right?
“This is our big year,” she said as if he didn’t know. “Thirty on the thirtieth.”
More jaw twitching.
“Do you ever think about it?”
He drew in a tight breath. “Not really.”
Her heart dropped. “Yeah, me neither. I think I only remembered because of the wishes. And the contract I made you sign.”
“You kept that, too?” He looked at her now with kindness, not disdain, making her feel a tiny bit less like jumping ship.
“I kept everything,” she said. “I’m not as bad as Maggie, but . . .” Her voice trailed off under the weight of his gaze. “Maybe it was stupid. I mean, who makes a pact like that? Obviously I was worried you’d go off and do something amazing and forget all about me.”
His forehead crinkled. “The pact wasn’t your idea.”
“Yes, it was.”
He eyed her. “No, it wasn’t.”