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“And I will respectfully decline,” he said, deciding to reel in his line and try it again. Then, he made the one comment I was hoping to avoid—this day and every day. “Besides, once you meet a new woman, she will want to work with you, and I’ll be the third wheel, man.”
A lump formed in my throat. I got so tired of having this discussion with him. “There won’t be a new woman, Ryan. We’ve talked about this.”
He grunted at me, then put his line back in, using a pole holder on the other side of the boat, which was for the best. I didn’t want to look at him at the moment if he was going to force me to discuss this matter again.
The breeze picked up, and for a moment, I thought I heard a high-pitched laugh tinkling along with the wind. But it wasn’t real. Just a memory. Just a ghost sent to haunt me.
“She wouldn’t like it,” Ryan said matter-of-factly, like he was the expert. “She’d want you to move on, find someone else, be happy.”
“You don’t know what she’d want,” I countered, deciding to follow his lead and move my line.
“Idoknow what she’d want, Beau. You make it seem like I didn’t know her. I did. Kaylee was awesome. There’s no disputing that. You can’t be such a kind, loving soul and wish anything but happiness upon those you’ve left behind, you know?”
I didn’t know what to say. It was true Ryan did know Kaylee. They knew each other very well. In a lot of ways, I thought maybe she knew him better than I did because she just got him on a level I was still trying to figure out. That was Kaylee. She was loving and patient and could see through facades better than anyone I’d ever met.
But I wasn’t going to entertain the notion he was presenting me with, not yet anyway. “I think I might have a bite,” I told him, seeing a slight amount of movement on the line.
“I think you’re fishing for a new topic of discussion,” he told me.
The line moved again, harder this time. “Nope. I’ve got something.”
Ryan came over as I began to reel it in. The weight of the massive fish on the line tugged me forward. I planted my feet and began to reel harder.
“This fish is a metaphor for the woman that will come into your life—soon,” Ryan prophesized. “This fish is your next wife.”
“Not now, man. Let me get this fucker in.” I reeled as fast and hard as I could, putting all of my strength into it. This was a big one. Visions of landing it came to mind, making me reel it faster.
“Put some finesse into it, brother,” Ryan suggested.
I would’ve pulled my eyes off the target to glare at him, but I was too involved. I continued to reel, my breathing becoming slightly labored with the exertion.
A fin surfaced, and I knew I almost had the bastard. He was huge, maybe the biggest salmon I’d ever caught. If I could get him up on the ship, I’d be able to donate his meat to the local food bank and feed Sitka lower-income families for a few days at least. “Come on, asshole,” I muttered, my arm starting to wear out from reeling so quickly.
The salmon began to come out of the water. He was almost there. Just a few more minutes, and I’d have him.
Suddenly, the fish pitched back into the water, diving in as hard and fast as it could. The line stretched from the force, and then, as my eyes widened in horror, I saw it snap. The monster fish broke the line and swam away. He would live to torment another fisherman on another day with his promises of a great catch likely to be shattered like my own.
“Huh.” Ryan folded his arms across his chest. “Guess that means whoever you meet next is gonna get away. Better work on that, my dude. Let nature guide you.” He clapped me on the back and left me standing there with a broken line, a puzzled look on my face, and the regret of knowing I’d let a good one get away.
2
GEORGIA
Closing my laptop, I took a deep breath and considered how to respond to the client who wanted her work done today, even though it was Saturday and my contract explicitly stated that I only worked Monday through Friday. Being a freelance virtual assistant was a great job, one that I loved most of the time. But on days like this when clients thought that because I wasn’t working in an office I should be able to drop everything and handle their emergencies, I was reminded of just how difficult my job could be.
“Well, Mrs. Clarkson, I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait,” I mumbled. After all, she wouldn’t know that I’d even seen her message. I would simply wait until Monday to reply. That was what I got for opening my laptop on a Saturday morning anyway.
I heard a light knock on my door before the jingle of keys alerted me that my best friend, Lucy Whitfield, was about to join me whether I liked it or not. Thankfully, I was used to her inviting herself in, no matter the time of day or whether or not I had been expecting her. She poked her pretty little head through the door. “Knock, knock!”
Laughing, I shook my head and stood. I was still wearing my pajamas, but we knew each other well enough after all of these years that it didn’t matter. “Good morning, Luce.” Grabbing my coffee cup, I carried it into the kitchen for a refill. “How are you?”
“Ooh, the bunnies today, huh?” she asked, spying the print on my shorts and tank top. “Nice.”
“Well, you know. It’s summer. One has to live a little.” I shook my head and filled my cup. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.” I noticed she was wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and hiking boots, and my eyebrows raised slightly. “What are you doing today?”
“Not working,” I said with a shrug and sipped the hot liquid. It stung my tongue a little, which was satisfying in a way people who didn’t like coffee would never grasp. “Why? What did you have in mind? Let me guess. Shopping spree? Bowling alley? Maybe a baseball game?”
