Spring Tides

by Jill Allyson Keene

  He smiled his first genuine smile in a week. “So noted. However, I would like you on notice your father was perfectly sound when or if he made any changes and had a doctor confirm that opinion. Also, you might want to remember your compliment about my reputation as being one of the best in the country. The will is impossible to contest. And if that isn’t enough for you, I have the whole thing on DVD.” With a nod, he spoke to everyone in the room. “I’ll be in touch.”

  He strolled out slowly, hoping to hear the fallout. He was not disappointed.

  John tried to calm his wife. “Darling, you are the only heir. This is just a little game your father is playing from the grave.”

  “Dammit, no!” Serena snapped. He paused at the front doors, where Conroy waited, his jacket in the butler’s hands.

  “Serena!” John shouted. “What is wrong?”

  Serena’s voice was deadly when she answered, “I am not the only heir.”

  Finn left before he had to listen to another word.

  Chapter Two

  “Damn that woman!” Finn slammed the phone back into its cradle.

  “Jules, call her back for me, will you?”

  He began to pace like a caged panther. He could not believe the sheer rudeness of the woman he had spent the last two weeks trying to locate. Now that he’d found her and had tried to schedule an appointment with her, she had hung up on him twice and laughed at him once.

  He grabbed a baseball from the wooden display case in his office. Signed by the entire 2004 Red Sox World Series Championship team, the ball was his pride and joy. He placed it back in its case and picked up a ratty one instead. He tossed it up and caught it—a habit he had acquired at Harvard, only back then he had used a tennis ball.

  His pulse slowed. He sat on the edge of his one-hundred-year-old cherry desk, a gift from his parents, appreciating the fact that he could sit on it without worry of turning it to splinters beneath his weight.

  Growing up with the Callahan name, he knew there was a certain aura surrounding his family. He thanked Jesus his parents didn’t worry over it. Their house was beautiful, well decorated, and—yes, a mansion. But boy did they live in it. Sleepovers in the solarium, camp outs at the beach, and his parents made it to every soccer game. Most people knew the Callahans were one of the wealthiest families on the east coast, but what they didn’t know was they were a family first.

  He was struck by how normal his upbringing was, especially now, when faced with the problem of the Winslow family. Not that you could call that pit of vipers a family.

  Since the altercation in Maine two weeks before, each member of Serena’s family had contacted him. Twice. When that didn’t work, Serena resorted to hiring the best probate lawyer in Boston. Good luck winning that one, Serena, he thought with some relish. He didn’t go looking for a fight, but he wouldn’t back down from one either.

  He still had five and a half months to get this mess cleared up.

  “You look like you could use a drink.”

  He didn’t flinch at the familiar, husky voice, though he hadn’t noticed the woman in the black sheath at the door. Inwardly he groaned. “Lara, nice to see you, but I’m afraid this is a bad time.” Rushing her out was hopeless. The blonde witch with the perfect body couldn’t take a hint. She wouldn’t leave until he outright asked her.

  “Finn, I heard you barking an order to your assistant. Darling, you should do something about this stress you’re under.” She glided over to him on five-inch heels and slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. “I can help release all that tension.” She pressed herself against him.

  Even after making the monumental mistake of having a three-month relationship with this woman, he still could not believe her brazen attitude. He extricated himself from her grasp. “Lara, this is old territory. While I had hoped we would remain friends, you don’t seem to be sticking to the plan.”

  “Oh, why are you such a stickler for the rules?”

  She pouted, and he had to admit most men would call it sexy. She was beautiful in a cool way. Tall, feminine, and knew exactly what she was doing both in bed and out of it.

  “I hate to repeat myself, but for you, I’ll explain again. I don’t share well with others. That means once you decided to sleep with someone else while you were still sleeping with me, we were over. It’s a one-strike policy. Call it one of my idiosyncrasies. I’m sorry if you believe I will change my mind, but I won’t.” He guided her to the door. “Why don’t you go out and get that drink? You wouldn’t want to waste that dress.”

  Lara’s face perked up. “You still want me. Don’t fight the attraction.” She kissed his cheek, and whispered, “I know what you like, and you’ll be back for it soon enough.”

  “Good-bye, Lara.” After the door closed behind her, he yelled to his assistant, “Hey, Jules, come in here a minute, will you?”

  Julie Stender was a bright, thirty-five-year-old law student. A lovely woman with black hair, green eyes, and a razor-sharp mind, she was also a single mother to twin girls. After losing her husband during his second tour in Afghanistan, she’d gone back to school to pursue her law degree. He admired her more than he would ever tell her; it would make them both uncomfortable. He tried to help her out, but she was fiercely independent and wanted to succeed on her own.

  She stood at the doorway. “Still can’t get the Winslow woman on the line, boss.”

  “Thanks. But there’s another problem and I need you to answer a question for me.”

  “OK, shoot.” She walked in and sat on the sage love seat, glancing only once at the gorgeous view of Boston’s Back Bay.

  “Do you think Lara is…?” He struggled for the word.

  “Crazy? Obsessed? Batshit? Why, yes. Yes, I do.”

  He groaned. “Come on. I’m serious. I need it straight here.”

  Never content to sit long, Jules stood. “I’m telling you straight. The woman isn’t right. She cannot take a hint, and she wants nothing more than to be the next Mrs. Callahan.” She leaned over his desk. “You and your hormones made a big mistake with that one.”

  He pushed away from his desk. “Christ, what am I supposed to do? Issue a restraining order?”

  She raised a brow. “Don’t be such a baby. You just need to handle it. I’ve told you before you are too nice to these women, especially the gold diggers.”

  She headed for the door. “I am going to try the Winslow woman for the thousandth time. And you should remember one thing: you cannot remain friends with every woman you’ve dated.”

  “Wait. Why not? I’m a nice guy. Just because it didn’t work out doesn’t mean I can’t stay friends.”

  She pivoted. “That just proves to me you have never been in love with any of the women you’ve dated. If you’d loved any of them, and it had ended, you wouldn’t feel at all friendly toward them. And if they’d loved you, they wouldn’t be in here trying to get you back into bed. They’d be slashing your tires or getting drunk with their girlfriends and bashing you.”

  He leaned back in his chair, not sure he liked the direction she was taking. “Bottom-line it for me.”

  “It means you always hold a little part of yourself back, which makes you like catnip to these women. Gold diggers love a challenge. The real reason you hold back emotionally is because you’re looking for what your parents have or what I had with Tim. Something amazing only the two of you share and everyone else wonders about. And before you ask—yes, she’s out there. I just hope you’re not too stupid to realize it.” She walked out the door.

  Laughter burst out of him. He counted himself lucky he hired someone who always knew exactly what he needed to hear. He didn’t always agree with Jules, but he knew her opinion came with no ulterior motive.

  Still laughing, he pressed the rarely used intercom.

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “Cancel the call to Miss Winslow. I’ve decided to approach this from a different angle.” His voice took on a serious tone rare for him. He looked fo
rward to the coming confrontation.

  “Yikes. I love it when scary lawyer comes out to play.”

  “I can guarantee when I’m through with her, this woman won’t be my friend.”

  Chapter Three

  Eastern Massachusetts provided fickle springs for winter-weary Yankees; this April was no exception. As Bev Winslow steered her “baby”—a one-hundred-foot custom whale-watching boat named Miss Elizabeth—into Salem Harbor, she raised her face to the welcome sunshine. Taking a deep breath of salty ocean air, she thanked Mother Nature for a warm day.

  The wind blew her deep auburn ponytail, whipping it into her already watering eyes. She laughed into the wind, and with the hum of twelve cylinders under her, relaxed as she took in the coast. The gulls squawked loudly, following the fishing boats in. A parade of tourists walked the boardwalk along the water, scouting lunch restaurants. Tiny, faded wooden shacks with buoys hanging on the sides dotted the marina. Crisp air and the diamond shine of the sun on the waves evened out her mood. All of this beautiful, rough-and-tumble chaos was hers.

  Beverly Regina Winslow belonged here in this sometimes hostile, occasionally calm, always perfect coastal community. And right at this very moment, she couldn’t think of one thing in the world she needed. Of course, her mother would disagree.

  Her mother Regina—or Reggie, as everyone called her—wanted things paired off two by two. Reggie didn’t care if they were gay, straight, or pigeons. She believed in fairytale love for everyone, most especially her adamantly single daughter. She couldn’t understand why her mother was so big on love when Reggie herself hadn’t had great luck in that department.

  She immediately pushed the dark thoughts away. She hadn’t had to see her father in close to two years and wasn’t going to waste any space in her mind on him. She didn’t believe in wasting anything, especially a beautiful day.

  Good mood intact, she guided her baby through the channel, into the harbor, and called in to the harbormaster. After receiving permission, she maneuvered the massive vessel to its dock and waited for the marina workers to secure the lines. The wait was unusually long, but she wasn’t impatient.

  Humming a happy little tune, she took her time walking the aluminum gangplank to the dock while making a list on her phone of things to do before the season officially started. And that was why she plowed headfirst into the guy walking toward her.

  Strong hands grabbed her shoulders before she fell. Her phone clattered to the ground. Flailing, she reached out to grip anything she could. She found purchase in the form of two very nicely shaped biceps under an expensive navy-blue suit.

  “Whoa, steady there.”

  Strong arms, strong voice. She saw amusement in the tawny eyes and smiled. “Sorry about that. I was being the consummate iHole with my phone.” She let go of his arms as he released her shoulders. Her skin warmed where he had touched her.

  She stepped back and got a look at him. He was quite large. Tall and wide-shouldered, he definitely fit the description of “hunk.” The golden-brown eyes and thick, caramel-color hair worked to his advantage. Firm jaw and a great nose added to the package. She had to admit he was worth a second look. She imagined her mother would be drooling right now.

  He still hadn’t spoken. She stared, waiting for him to move aside or say something. When he did neither but just continued to blink at her, she cleared her throat, moved to the side of the narrow walkway. “Okay. Have a nice day.” She squeezed by him awkwardly to get to her offices on the marina, while he remained stock-still.

  Still shaking her head, she wondered if he was okay mentally. She hadn’t walked more than a few steps before he finally spoke. “Excuse me? Miss? Could you help me?”

  She stopped walking and turned back. The hot stranger was striding toward her. By the time they were face to face, he still said nothing and was staring again.

  “Something I can help you with?” she asked politely.

  “Yes.”

  She waited for him to say something more. When he didn’t, she sighed. While this guy was extremely sexy and very well put together, and seemed harmless enough, it was obvious he wasn’t all there. She softened her tone. “Are you lost? Can I help you find your way?”

  Finally he answered, “So sorry. I’m not usually so rude. I was a little knocked out back there by you.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Relieved he seemed normal again, she repeated her earlier question. “Can I help you, sir?”

  “Yes, thanks. The gentleman named Joe at Atlantic Charters told me I would find Beverly Winslow out here on the docks, but I haven’t had much luck. Any chance you could tell me which dock I should head toward?”

  She smiled. Joe would think it hilarious someone had called him a “gentleman.”

  “Look no further. I’m her. You can call me Bev.” She reached out a hand to shake and looked him in the eye. “Are you looking to charter the Miss Elizabeth for your company party or something?” The handshake was firm, but he didn’t answer. Suddenly, his eyes glinted gold with anger.

  His hand stayed locked tight on hers, and he pulled her toward him. He didn’t seem so harmless now.

  “Hey! Let go of me.” She wrenched her hand free. “Do we have a problem here, buddy?”

  His voice was barely a whisper. He stepped so close his breath warmed her forehead. “I’m Finn Callahan, and yes, there’s a major problem here. Buddy.”

  She didn’t bother to answer. She knew what he wanted, and she wasn’t interested.

  ****

  All Amazon sex goddess fantasies blew away in the salty breeze. In self-defense, he admitted any man who ran into this woman with that body would be temporarily unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak. She was statuesque, curvy, and had an earthy beauty a gypsy would covet. Almond-shaped eyes the color of green sea glass, fringed with dark lashes. She had high cheekbones and a gold dust complexion.

  Sucker-punched mentally, and seriously pissed, he shook himself out of the sexual haze. He was a Callahan, for God’s sake, and an attorney. The woman arguably may be the sexiest he had ever encountered, but she was also the rudest. After he had introduced himself, she broke free of his grip, turned on her heel, and stalked toward her offices. Living up to his expectations for worst-mannered human in the world was too easy for her.

  Recognizing his day was about to get worse, he followed her into the small, wooden shack that served as Atlantic Charters’ office. It was drafty and damp. He smelled stale coffee and fish bait. It wasn’t the best combination.

  She prowled the little room. He took in the neat stacks of papers and folders on the desk. The press clippings from the grand opening of Atlantic Charters hung in solid black frames on a weathered, gray wooden wall. Alongside the framed licenses for doing business were several framed diplomas. One, he noted, was from Brown University for a degree in marine biology and an MBA from Wharton. All of this told him she was organized, proud of her business, and obviously no dummy. He filed the information away for later use. He waited patiently for her next move.

  She barked at Joe to leave. Finn raised an eyebrow. “Gee, I thought I was special, but apparently you’re rude to everyone.”

  “You haven’t seen rude yet, but I’m willing to educate you, Counselor.”

  “You’re absolutely right. Up to this moment, I had only heard rude from you over the phone. Now I get to witness it firsthand.” He searched the tiny space and saw a rusted metal stool he assumed was meant for clients. He opted to stay where he was and said, “No, thanks. I’ll stand.”

  “I didn’t offer you a seat.”

  “My point exactly, Ms. Winslow. Now since we’ve dispensed with the pleasantries, perhaps we could get to the reason I’m here.”

  He almost felt bad for her as he watched her shoulders sag in defeat. Almost. Beverly Winslow had been a pain in the ass for the last two weeks, and he wasn’t ready to let it go. He wanted an explanation.

  She plopped down into the d
esk chair. “Look, I told you on the phone the first time, I’m not interested. I was not rude the first time we spoke. Said rudeness started after you wouldn’t take no for an answer. This, in some circles, Counselor, is also considered rude behavior.”

  “It’s not rude if it falls under the heading of doing my job,” he said. He pushed a hand through his hair. “Okay, look, I can’t do what you seem to want me to do. I can’t go away. I’m bound by law to pass this information on to you. Not only that, I made a promise to someone, and I can’t let it go.” He shifted closer to the desk.

  “If, after you hear everything, you still feel the same way, then I promise to leave you alone. We’ll make everything legal. It will be as if we’d never met.”

  “Okay, fine. I’ll listen. I can say no just as easily later as I can now.”

  He didn’t for one minute believe she’d say no.

  Chapter Four

  “No?” he shouted. “What do you mean, no?”

  She almost laughed. She couldn’t blame him. She knew she sounded certifiable.“I was pretty clear. I mean no. I am not interested.”

  “I’m not sure you fully understand what you’re giving up—”

  “Sure I do,” she interrupted. “I’m not an idiot. Three hundred thirty-five million dollars is a lot of money, but I’m not interested in anything that has to do with the Winslows or their money.”

  She liked the way he quickly calmed after his initial heated reaction. It reminded her of a tide pool after the last crash of a wave. Nothing seemed to shake him long. She wished she was as steady. Her heart pounded. She needed to figure out how to make this go away so it wouldn’t touch her mother. First thing was to get rid of the hunky lawyer.

  “If there isn’t anything else, perhaps we could sign the paperwork and be done with the matter?” She forced a polite smile. His mouth still gaped after her refusal of the money.