Seducing My Dad's Best Friend novel · Chapter 21 of 24

Chapter 21: The Charter Desk

The crew had left a present on Devon's old chair.

It was a cushion, bright orange, with a hand-lettered sign taped to it.

Director of the Forklift.

"We figured you'd want a promotion," said the kid who sweeps from the doorway.

"Who did the lettering?"

"The whole yard voted."

"You can't spell director."

"We spelled it fine," he said, offended.

I put the cushion on the chair and sat down on it.

It was a good chair, wide and creaky.

Stan had changed the lock on the office door on Monday, and he had pressed the new key into my palm with a grunt and walked off before I could thank him.

I opened the charter binder.

Four years of Devon's handwriting looked back at me.

It was neat, round and cheerful, and I could not make myself hate it.

I turned to a clean page and wrote my own name at the top.

The phone rang at eight.

It rang all morning.

By ten I had booked six fishing parties, moved a wedding group off the Saturday sail, and talked a man out of bringing a goat on the Sunday charter.

I was good at it.

I was better at it than I had ever been at anything in Columbus.

At noon Gabe came in with a cardboard box and set it on the corner of the desk.

His winter coat and three flannel shirts hung over the top.

"That's everything off the boat," he said.

"All of it?"

"There's a coffee pot. It stays."

"You're moving into the house."

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