again, I don’t have a coat on, either—and it’s not because I hadn’t grown up in these parts. I took it off when I tugged on my fishing apparel to check on today’s catch. As the CEO of Hooked—a multi-million-dollar seafood company with its home base in Lunenburg, I don’t usually oversee the daily running of things. I leave that to my trusted employees because I have other matters that need my attention.
What I don’t need is the distraction of a quick-witted, pretty woman. Which begs the questions, why did I flirt with her, and agree to dinner? I’m not sure, but I’ll have to think about that later. Right now, I need to drop these lobsters off and get back to the office. I walk to my pickup truck, set the crate in the back, and climb into the driver’s seat. I swing around and head to Frank’s garage.
Chester Johnson waves to me as he saunters down the road, his cane leading the way. In this small town, everyone knows everyone.
I slow my truck and roll down the window. “Hey, Chester, need a lift?”
“Headed up to Edna’s,” he says and taps his cane.
“Hop in. I’ll give you a lift. It’s on my way,” I say, even though it’s not.
I lean across the cab and open the door for him. The last time I jumped out and tried to help him in, he nearly beat me to death with his cane. Pride is a big thing here. That was a lesson I learned the hard way when I arrived six months ago. I chuckle as I adjust the radio, and patiently wait for him to get in. He finally settles, but his breathing is heavy and labored.
“I’m quite capable of walking.” He purses his lips. “Just in a hurry today.”
“Edna making her famous quiche?” I put the truck into gear and head up the hill to Edna’s.
He smacks his lips. “Nothing like it. It’s her fresh eggs.”
I turn the heat up even more when he shivers.
“You still staying at Gram’s?”
“My house isn’t ready yet.”
He nods. “You’ll get settled soon enough.”
I bought a heritage house here in town for a couple of reasons. One, to live in while I attended to business in Lunenburg—except it isn’t live in ready yet—and two, as an investment. The plan isn’t to live in this small town permanently. Once I get the processing plant done, I’ll be on to the next facility that needs my attention. I just hope it’s in a big city somewhere in the states, maybe along the Eastern coast, close to Portsmouth, Maine, where I was born and raised.
This town’s new plant will be designed with top-notch equipment and will allow us to process more fish at a faster rate. It’s been hush, hush so far. The last thing we want is rumors started. Many folks don’t trust the conglomerate as it is, feel it puts profits ahead of safety. They wouldn’t be wrong. But the bottom line is this: my carefully designed facility will bring us into the twenty-first century and make us more profitable.
“Did I see you making time with some girl on the dock?”
Making time?
I nearly laugh at that. “I saved her from a head-on collision with Eddie.”
“She was a looker.” He taps the top of his cane on the dashboard. “Might want to think about courting her.”
Again, I bite my tongue at his old fashion lingo. I don’t bother telling him today Netflix and chill has replaced courting. His heart isn’t as strong as it used to be. His cane, however… I think I’m still bruised.
Taking my foot off the gas, I coast into Edna’s driveway. “Enjoy that quiche,” I say.
“Can’t leave without saying hello,” Chester says in a low gravelly voice. “Uncivil around these parts.”
Since there is no point in arguing, I’ll only lose, or get smacked with his cane, I put my truck into park, and slide out of the cab. In the yard, dozens of chickens cluck and peck at the pellets sprinkled in the grass. By the time I circle the hood, Chester is