“They’ve been asking about him all day. Send him over.”

“He just got off school. He hasn’t had a snack.”

“I’ll start a box of mac and cheese.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“No worries.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Biyen dumped his backpack on the floor and ran down the stairs.

“I’ll take that home myself, then?” she said to the door he’d left open.

She didn’t mind too much. She worked a lot in the summer and felt less guilty about it when Biyen was playing with friends. Also, he hadn’t eaten his apple. She washed it along with her hands and crunched into it.

While she ate, she perched on the stool by the other computer and began filling out work orders, matching her hours to vessel names and registrations so accounting could bill for them.

“Busy day?” Logan asked.

“Mm. I should tell you about this one nugget…” She spun on the stool. “Since he might complain. He called me down first thing with low oil pressure. I pretended we didn’t have the part on hand because he was solidly drunk. He reeked and could barely stand upright. I said he’d have to wait for it to come in tomorrow, but he staggered up here and of course Kenneth sold it to him. Gramps wasn’t there yet. Anyway, he tried to install it himself and made it worse.”

“’Course.” Logan nodded.

“So I genuinely did have to machine something at that point. I kept it under a hundred dollars, but he was super pissed. I left him trying to install it and warned the dock master that he shouldn’t be piloting anything until he sobers up, but…” She shrugged. It was the coast guard’s job to fine him if he was drunk on the water, not hers.

“See, I thought I had won Prick of the Day with a contractor who literally told me to fuck myself.”

“You hear that so often, you think it’s a term of endearment,” she scoffed, then couldn’t help continuing the joke. “Seriously, if you think that earns you a beer, I owe you one for every day you’ve been back. I say it all the time. Usually under my breath, but still.”

“Are you vying for Employee of the Month?” he asked, cocking his head and narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Ooh, why have we never had that?” she asked with excited discovery.

Prick of the Day was a longstanding tradition. Wilf had often bought a beer for whichever employee had the worst run in with a snotty tourist or grumpy fisherman. As far as Sophie could figure, it had been Wilf’s attempt to get someone to buy him a beer, but it had also been a way to let off steam and bond with other marina and resort staff while venting a crummy experience.

It wasn’t always a customer or tourist who ruined your day, though.

“Did you know there was a woman working in the grocery store last year who was drinking from the bottles of liquor behind the counter? She topped them up with water, then sold them. She never did it to locals, but someone called from Alaska to say they’d just opened a bottle of gin that was pure water. She’s the employee to beat. I don’t think I can do it, sadly.”

“Come on, Soph,” Logan chided. “I believe in you. Apply yourself.”

“Don’t tempt me.” The saucy phrase turned their easy banter into something more like flirting. Which made her blush so she shut up and spun back to the computer and got back to billing out her day. She thought she could feel Logan continuing to watch her, but she ignored him.

When she started to unlace her boots, Logan closed the folder of invoices.

“Pub, then?”

“No, thanks.” She waved off his offer. “I have too much to do.”

“I’m bringing beer home, anyway. You can have one there, when your day is done.” He worked an elastic band around the folder.

“You’re funny. My day is never done. But you don’t have to get beer.” She skimmed out of her coveralls and shook them, then stepped outside the door to hang them. “I bought some and gave it to Gramps to take home in his Gator.” She came back to put on her shoes.

“Why?” Logan looked up from pushing his chair into place under the desk. He was ridiculously tidy. “I said I’d do it.”

“You might have forgotten. Gramps likes to have one before dinner so…” She shrugged. “Buy some more. It doesn’t go bad. Not at the rate you drink it.”

“Are you serious? You didn’t trust me to buy beer?”

“Oh my God, Logan. Are you serious?” His affront lit her temper. “I’m not three men and a nanny looking after one baby. Between work, Biyen, and Gramps, I’m going flat out at all times. I don’t have the luxury of trusting that someone else is doing anything. If it needs doing, I do it. It’s done. Happy day for you. Go home and have a cold one.”

“Wow.” His head had recoiled at her outburst. “You really do owe me a lot of beer.”

She pinched her mouth flat, refusing to take back that diss against him and his brothers. She hooked Biyen’s backpack over her shoulder and looked around for anything else she had to do before she left.

“I’ll make dinner,” Logan offered. “What else can I help with tonight?”

“I wasn’t complaining. I was stating a fact.”

“Sophie—”

“Fine. Look at the fan in the bathroom if you want to. It sounds like it has a bent blade. Gramps will get on a chair and try to pull it down himself if he notices so I can’t leave it, but I have to water the garden, get gas for the lawnmower, and mow; otherwise Gramps gets hay fever. Then I have to shower and check the delivery on Biyen’s birthday present. Also, I was supposed to reorder one of Gramps’s prescriptions today and forgot, damn it. Let me make a note of that.”

She came to the desk and found the sticky notes in the drawer. She scrawled the reminder and stuck it to the black screen of the monitor.

The phone rang.

Fuck. This was how her life had been going even before Wilf died, but she was only one person.

Logan snatched up the receiver.

“Hi, Kenneth.” He listened. “Uh-huh. Yeah. No, she’s gone for the day.” He jerked his head at her, telling her to leave. “I’ll come down.” He hung up. “The drunk says you’re a shitty mechanic, but also, he made it worse.”

“Shocking,” she muttered and headed for her coveralls.

“I’m going.”

“You don’t have to. But if you could call Emma and tell her to send Biyen home—”

“Sophie. Go. I’ll make sure his boat stays tied up.”

“Really?” She kind of hated him more when he wasn’t being an asshole than when he was. “Thank you.”

Chapter Six

Logan finished the repair, told the skipper he had warned the coast guard about him, then went to the grocery store. He picked up a call from his mother while he was walking home.

“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”