Devlin surveyed the dock as Jennie knocked on the door of the lake’s most luxurious houseboat.
How weird was it that fate had led him to this same dock twice in twelve hours? Nowhere near as weird as the one that had led Isobel Manella to step onto his sailboat last night.
Who had she been visiting here that had upset her so much? She’d sure been twisted up in knots something fierce. Struck him that someone needed his ass kicked for doing that to such a nice woman.
Of course she was probably a b***h in Hollywood: only nice when it suited her. But damn she could sail. There was one lone fifty-foot ketch out for a breakfast sail. It’s brilliant red sail ghosted along in the bright morning, much as he had late last night.
Maybe Manella was the Hollywood exception.
Yeah, he’d believe that
