Inner Harbor Read Online Free PDF

muscles that wept after hours of lifting planks. And had not suffered in silence.
    But with this tangible result of long months of labor swaying gracefully under his feet, he had to admit it was all worth it.
    Now they were about to start all over again.
    â€œYou and Cam made some headway this week on the next project.”
    â€œWe want to have the hull ready to turn the end of October.” Ethan took out a bandanna and methodically polished Phillip’s fingerprints off the gunwale. “If we’re going to keepto that killer schedule you worked up. Got a little bit more to do on this one, though.”
    â€œThis one?” Eyes narrowed, Phillip tipped down his Wayfarers. “Damn it, Ethan, you said she was ready to go. The owner’s coming in to take her. I was about to go in and work up the last of the papers on her.”
    â€œJust one little detail. Have to wait for Cam.”
    â€œWhat little detail?” Impatient, Phillip checked his watch. “The client’s due here any minute.”
    â€œWon’t take long.” Ethan nodded toward the cargo doors of the building. “Here’s Cam now.”
    â€œShe’s too good for this yahoo,” Cam called out as he came down the narrow dock with a battery-operated drill. “I’m telling you we should get the wives and kids and sail her off to Bimini ourselves.”
    â€œShe’s good enough for the final draw he’s going to give us today. Once he gives me that certified check, he’s the captain.” Phillip waited until Cam stepped nimbly aboard. “When I get to Bimini I don’t want to see either of you.”
    â€œHe’s just jealous because we’ve got women,” Cam told Ethan. “Here.” He shoved the drill into Phillip’s hand.
    â€œWhat the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
    â€œFinish her.” Grinning, Cam pulled a brass cleat out of his back pocket. “We saved the last piece for you.”
    â€œYeah?” Absurdly touched, Phillip took the cleat, watched it wink in the sun.
    â€œWe started her together,” Ethan pointed out. “Seemed only right. It goes on the starboard.”
    Phillip took the screws Cam handed him and bent over the markings on the rail. “I figured we should celebrate after.” The drill whirled in his hands. “I thought about a bottle of Dom,” he said, raising his voice over the noise, “but figured it’d be wasted on the two of you. So I’ve got three Harps chilling down in the cooler.”
    They would go well, he thought, with the little surprise he was having delivered later that afternoon.
    I T WAS NEARLY noon before the client had finished fussing over every inch of his new boat. Ethan had been elected to take the man out for a shakedown sail before they loaded the sloop onto its new trailer. From the dock, Phillip watched the butter-yellow sails—the client’s choice—fill with the wind.
    Ethan was right, he thought. She moved.
    The sloop skimmed toward the waterfront, heeled in like a dream. He imagined the late-summer tourists would stop to watch, point out the pretty boat to each other. There was, he thought, no better advertising than a quality product.
    â€œHe’ll run her aground the first time he sails her on his own,” Cam said from behind him.
    â€œSure. But he’ll have fun.” He gave Cam a slap on the shoulder. “I’ll just go write up that bill of sale.”
    The old brick building they rented and had modified for the boatyard didn’t boast many amenities. The lion’s share was a vast open space with fluorescent lights hanging from the rafters. The windows were small and always seemed to be coated with dust.
    Power tools, lumber, equipment, gallons of epoxy and varnish and bottom paint were set up where they could be easily reached. The lofting platform was currently occupied by the bare skeleton of the hull for the