Page 37 of His for the Holiday

The guy’s head jerked a little and I saw the flash of recognition in his eyes. “What’s Gold Star doing sniffing around here?”

“You still haven’t told me your name, which seems unnecessarily rude,” I commented as I looked him over. “Maybe I’ll just call you Sunshine.”

The slicked-back hair and the polished look of his shoes told me he’d likely never worked on a deck a day in his life and yet he’d obviously come here to give Tim some kind of shit. Finally, as he kept staring at me, he relented.

“Mason Bradbury. Meecham Maritime, and you’re in my way.” When I didn’t move, he scoffed and peered past me at Tim. “You have a charter on the books for three p.m. That won’t work. I’m moving it to tomorrow.”

“You can’t do that.” Tim scowled. “My clients have already paid. I have just as much a right to⁠—”

“No,” Mason interrupted him with a slight scoff. “You don’t. Move it, or I will.”

“You do realize this is his livelihood, right?” I asked, not impressed by what I was seeing from Meecham so far. “Move whatever it is you’ve got going on. You can’t expect this man to postpone a charter he’s already been paid for. That would open you up to a lawsuit, Sunshine.”

Mason all but spat at me. “I can and I have. I’ll let it slide this time because you obviously don’t know how things work around here, Gold Star. Stay out of my way next time.”

With that, he turned on his heels and stomped off, and I glanced back at Tim. “What a fucking prick.”

“They’ve totally taken over the port,” Tim said and I heard the undercurrent of defeat in his tone. “They’re bullying all the other companies out of business. I won’t last much longer like this and Martin is on his last legs.”

“Martin?” I let out a low whistle between my teeth. “Really? He’s been around forever.”

“Sixty-one years working this port.” Tim glanced out at the water, the expression in his eyes forlorn. “He was only six years old the first time he came down to help his daddy. They’re forcing us all out, Hawk. One of these days, every boat out there will be that god-awful yellow and the rest of us will be working for them. If we’re lucky.”

My jaw hardened as the reality of the situation washed over me. When David had brought it up before, I definitely hadn’t realized how dire it really was, but experiencing Meecham’s treatment of people who had been on these docks before I had been born had made it hit home for me.

Tim, Martin, my dad.

They were legends around here, yet they were being treated like disobedient children who were annoying a teacher by doing things they knew they weren’t supposed to be doing. It just wasn’t right.

Deciding on the spot that I was going to put an end to it, I chatted to Tim for a few minutes longer before I headed to Dad’s tug.

Refusing to take no for an answer, I pitched in for the day, helping him at the port while keeping my eyes and ears open. Sutton and Meecham Maritime were heavy on my mind as I worked, torn between thinking about the girl and the bullies at the port.

Late in the afternoon, I ran home to grab a shower and got a text from Luke as I was walking into my bedroom.

Luke: Want to meet up later? Aggie has some errands to run in town. You can keep me company while I carry the shopping bags.

Me: As long as we get a drink after.

Luke: You’re on.

Following his wife around downtown Portsmouth wasn’t exactly the catch-up session I’d been expecting, but when I finally met up with them, I found myself enjoying walking around with my old friend. Aggie was on some kind of Thanksgiving mission, which gave him and me plenty of time to talk, and since we’d spent our fair share of hours just drifting around town back in the day, it felt a lot like old times.

“I went out with Sutton last night,” I found myself telling him while we waited outside a store for Aggie to emerge.

“Sutton?” He frowned for just a second before he lit up. “Oh, right. Sutton! God, I remember how close you guys used to be. When did she get back in town?”

“A few weeks ago,” I said. “She’s got a kid now.”

“Yours?” he asked.

I snorted. “No. Why?”

He chortled and arched a disbelieving eyebrow at me. “Come on, man. You were so gone for that girl. Everyone knew it. We just kept waiting, and waiting, and waiting for you to make your damn move already. I thought maybe you finally made it after high school.”

“I didn’t,” I said thoughtfully.

I was really starting to wish I had, though. The idea that Winnie could’ve been my daughter with Sutton was not altogether as off-putting as I might’ve thought it would be.