Chapter 9: Bradlee Marine

Bradlee Marine opened at nine, and at ten past nine I walked through its glass doors.

I had never gone in uninvited.

For five years I'd come only when Gavin sent for me, to bring his lunch, to sign something or to hold a sign for the spring open house.

Now the showroom was full.

A young couple in matching windbreakers stood by a white center-console boat with a SOLD tag hanging from its rail.

A salesman in a polo was filling out a form.

Two men from the dock were drinking coffee by the service desk.

And at the far end, behind a glass wall with the Bradlee crest on it, Gavin sat at his desk on a phone call.

He saw me and his face did a dozen things in a second.

Then he came out smiling, with his arms already out.

"Babe! You came to see me at work."

"I did."

"Can we talk in the office?"

"No," I said. "Here is fine."

The salesman's pen stopped.

The couple looked over.

I stood beside the boat they were about to buy, and I put my bag down on its bow.

"I met your brother," I said, loud enough to fill the room.

Gavin's smile held.

"Of course you did. He was at the party."

"I mean I know about the ferry."

He didn't move.

It was only a flicker.

A small, quick tightening around his mouth.

"I'm not sure what you mean," he said.

"You knew the girl on the boat was me before you ever said hello, and you let me think you'd just wandered over."

"Willa, stop."

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