They’d hit anyhow.
The Jet Ski had smashed into her leg as they’d flipped, and the whole world had narrowed to the pain
radiating through her knee as she’d sunk down, eyes open. She didn’t have too many memories after the
initial impact, which doctors had assured her was her body’s way of coping with the trauma. She did,
however, remember Cal ripping through the surface of the water, swimming hard and fast to get to her.
Now, for the first time since the accident, she was standing on her own two feet. She had a loving,
protective, competitive family back on the mainland. Her family had suggested medical school and then law
school, before all but begging her to join the family business. She didn’t want that.
Her family was a ranch family. Her great-grandfather had started a small almond farm in midstate
California, and the rest of the family had stuck close. Moneywise, there was more than enough in the good
years—but they’d never made get-rich money. Other than summers on Discovery Island, her childhood had
been full of tractors, ATVs, horses and trails. She’d spent more time outdoors than in, excelling in 4H
competitions, winning blue ribbons and awards. Sure, she could have gone home, and they’d have made
room for her in the family business, but...she wanted to create one of her own.
She didn’t want anything handed to her. Her three brothers had all happily settled down to ranch,
competing amiably to see who could claim the most rodeo buckles, grow the biggest crop or innovate the
most. Diving had made sense to them when she’d been diving for a berth on a national team, but owning a
dive shop on a vacation island wasn’t aspirational enough for them. None of them had accepted that her
new dream included four walls, a sometimes temperamental dive boat and racks of tanks.
Dream Big and Dive’s name came from the heart. Piper had learned firsthand that you had to let go of
some dreams, but this time she was holding on. She wasn’t letting Cal Brennan beat her, not when her shot
at owning the dive shop was on the line. Her soon-to-be place had a prime location, right off the boardwalk
fronting the water, with plenty of foot traffic and easy access to both the marina and the beach where she
loaded the dive boats.
Standing there in the front of the shop, she could just read the chalkboard outside, announcing the
week’s dive sites and inviting newbies to come on in and sign up for a baptismal dive.
Her cell phone rang, blaring the Jaws theme song. Right now, the ringtone was all too appropriate. Her
partner, Del Rogers, was the shark circling in her waters. Her former coach had franchised a string of dive
shops in California and Hawaii, including Dream Big and Dive. Del had won dozens of gold medals and
multiple U.S. championships, and photos of him caught in midair as he dived off the platform covered the
wall in his San Diego office. He was a force to be reckoned with, and unfortunately for her, he was
entertaining an offer on the shop. An all-cash, superattractive and almost-impossible-to-beat offer. The
offer worried her, but she’d made a career of winning, and she’d overcome the odds this time, too.
“Piper,” he barked in the same voice that had demanded more of her fifteen-year-old self. More sit-ups,
more push-ups, more air or more rotations. She’d always given it to him, and he’d coached her to be the
very best.
“Good to hear your voice.” Not.
No chitchat. Del went straight to business. “Have you made a decision on the Discovery Island site?”
“I still want to buy out your interest,” she said, playing for time. Her desires weren’t the problem.
Finding the cash was.
“Good.” There was a brief pause—she’d spent more time hanging in the air over the pool—followed
by, “When?”
“I’ve got a meeting with the bank in two weeks.” Of course, talk was cheap. All she’d had to do to get
the meeting was pick up the phone and
Lightnin' Hopkins: His Life, Blues