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When she was younger, Loralei could admit to being a little jealous at how much time her dad spent with this man instead of his own daughter. Now, she was just grateful to have someone who was knowledgeable about what was going on and could help her through the next few weeks.
Grasping her around the waist, Brian lifted her up the ladder and onto the deck of their ship, Emily’s Fortune.
Seeing her mom’s name painted along the side in peeling, faded red letters sent an unexpected jolt of pain through her chest.
Somehow she managed to push that down, too.
To her relief, Brian led her into the belly of the ship. She could still feel the gentle sway as waves rocked against the hull, but at least she didn’t have to look at the water anymore. If she closed her eyes maybe she could convince herself she was on a train or a plane or something.
Although, the scent of salt in the air and the sound of sea birds pretty much killed that fantasy.
“The team from Trident is already here.”
Dropping onto the bench running along the wall behind a table in the galley, Lorelei rubbed a hand over her temple. “What?”
“Trident. You know, the diving company I was telling you about over the phone.”
“The one that’s been stealing clients from us for the last eight months?”
“Yeah, that one. They’re here.”
Dropping her hand, Lorelei looked up at Brian. He was about nine years older than she was, although when he smiled he looked even older. All his time in the sea and sun had etched extra lines at the corners of his eyes and across his forehead. His skin was a deep, dark brown—a few shades darker than the natural caramel color she’d inherited from her Latin mother—and leathery.
“Why?”
Brian frowned, the line between his brows angling into a deep groove.
“I have no idea, but it makes me uneasy.”
Yeah, it didn’t exactly thrill her, either.
If Brian was telling her the truth—and she had no reason to doubt him—Trident had been a thorn in her dad’s side for months.
It couldn’t be coincidence that they’d shown up here now, could it?
No, her life didn’t work that way.
“Damn, this means we have competition, doesn’t it?”
“Probably.”
* * *
JACKSON BLENDED INTO the bustling activity of the marina and watched.
He’d never seen the woman Brian greeted with a hug and a deep smile, but he supposed it wasn’t a leap to assume she was Lancaster’s daughter.
He’d heard James had died from a heart attack three months ago. Damn shame, but not surprising. He hadn’t looked healthy the last time they’d spoken. Of course, the man had been red-faced and screaming at him.
It hadn’t taken James long to realize Trident—and Jackson specifically—was poaching his clients. The man had made it damn easy to do. But James had been livid, storming into the Trident offices to throw his weight around and threaten him with that non-compete clause he’d originally signed.
By then Jackson had discovered just how much financial trouble Lancaster was in, so he’d told the man to go ahead and hire a lawyer—he’d known James couldn’t afford one.
And he hadn’t felt a single twinge of guilt. Not when people’s lives and safety were involved.
That potential mishap with the explosives was how shit like oil rigs exploding and millions of gallons of crude spilling into pristine waters happened.
Several weeks later their front door had been smashed in and their offices ransacked. All the expensive dive equipment and computers had been left untouched, nothing of value missing.
