It's a Wonderful Wife by Janet Chapman Page A

was right now getting ready to head out on his own adventure, and what was to say she wouldn’t find herself camped across from him in Yellowstone or Glacier National Park?
    Now there was a dream with real-life potential. And how cool would it be to tell her children that she’d met their daddy in a redwood forest? Or on an airplane or a train. Or better yet, on a big scary roller coaster.
    Wow. She should send Jesse Sinclair a thank-you card for making her realize it was time to get off her own comfortable couch.
    Heck, maybe she’d even invite him to her wedding.

SEVEN
    Having found it was the only place he could get decent cell phone reception, Jesse sat leaning against a boulder atop the high ridge on his island, sipping his third beer while watching the last light of dusk fade in the western sky as he debated whether or not to install an antenna to strengthen the signal. So far he was leaning toward no, figuring a constantly ringing phone more or less defeated the purpose of having a sanctuary. But probably the biggest reason he liked not being readily available was because in his experience, whenever Sam or Ben—or in this case,
both
—left several text and voice messages asking him to please call while neglecting to mention why, Jesse knew he wasn’t going to like the ensuing conversation.
    Best-case scenario, he’d be heading back to New York in the morning. Worst-case, their larger corporate jet was already on its way to Maine and he’d be in Brazil this time tomorrow, trying to wrestle two of their ships away from a dock full of disgruntled longshoremen. The strike was in its third week, and despite telling their captains
last week
to get the hell out of there even without a back-load, the crews were refusing to cross the picket line to board their ships.
    The email he’d sent before leaving New York had said that if they weren’t at sea by midnight tonight, every last one of them was fired and could find their own way home. Looking to save their necks—as well as their generous paychecks—the captains had likely called Ben, who had in turn likely called Sam, and now both brothers were after him to fix the mess.
    Jesse took another sip of beer as he pondered which one should have the pleasure of being told to go to hell right along with their captains and crews. He’d just spent three friggin’ weeks dealing with the Brazilian longshoremen while paying a small fortune to house his men at a four-star beach resort in hopes of keeping them out of trouble, as well as placating a frantic logistics department fielding calls from businesses on four continents asking why their products were sitting on docks and rotting in the sun.
    Jesse set down the empty beer beside the others and called Ben. “If you’re going to insist on keeping a Maine address,” he said the moment Ben answered, “you at least have to read the emails I send you. Specifically the ones pointing out when I’m on vacation.”
    â€œAnd if you insist on running off to your island, you at least have to answer your phone.”
    â€œI only just realized I can’t get a decent signal here. When my phone didn’t ring all day, I thought everyone was respecting the fact
I’m on vacation
.”
    â€œWho takes off in the middle of a strike?”
    â€œAnyone who’s
trying
to have a life outside the office.”
    â€œYou need to go down there and fix this, Jesse.”
    â€œI didn’t see your name on the vacation roster. You go down and fix it.”
    There was a moment’s silence. “My passport’s expired.”
    Jesse snorted. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you and Mike got back from last month’s fishing trip when you did, and saved Emma the trouble of having to fly her fancy Cessna under the radar to sneak you back across the Canadian border.”
    Another silence, then a sigh. “A word of warning, brother: a man’s