Page 7 of The Bosun

“Stell and I know all about small towns.” Penelope frowned at her friend.

“Let’s not go there.” Stella threw back the rest of her margarita and slammed down her glass. “Remember, we’re celebrating and putting the past behind us.”

I knew that was easier said than done.

Stella raised her glass. “More margs!”

The stews walked out at that moment with dessert in their hands. There were many times when I helped serve, so it was strange being on this side of the table.

“Tonight, the chef has bad for you a chocolate lava cake with a salted caramel sauce,” O said as she plated the dessert in front of the primary. She always made sure the primary was served first since they were responsible for our tip.

Zelda held it to her nose and took a long, drawn-out sniff. “This looks to die for.”

“I’ll be sure to let the chef know. Would anyone like another drink?” she asked as she circled the table and collected the empty drink glasses.

“Yes,” Stella held her glass in the air, “I’ll have a glass of white wine. Whatever you’ve got. I’m not picky.”

“Are you sure you should be switching to wine?” her friend asked her. “You don’t want to get sick.”

“I can’t drink a margarita with a lava cake.Thatwould make me sick.” Stella scrunched her nose up as if the thought was disgusting.

It wasn’t appetizing by any means.

“I am not holding your hair back later if you get sick.” Pen raised her glass to Ophelia. “I’ll take another glass of Champagne.”

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” O said with what I knew was a fake smile on her face. She didn’t like that she wasn’t mixing up drinks and getting them drunk. I would never understand O. If the guests were plastered the entire time, they weren’t going to leave us with a great tip. They needed to enjoy the experience as a whole.

“So Remy, is it?” Penelope asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Is that short for something?”

“No, just Remy.” All my life, everyone thought my name was short for Remington, but my mom only ever planned to call me Remy, so she said there was no point in naming me something different. There was logic there.

“Do you have a girlfriend or a significant other?”

I almost choked on my bite of cake. Did she think I might be gay or married? I don’t have a ring on my finger. While there’s nothing wrong with being gay, I didn’t think I put off those vibes.

“No, my lifestyle isn’t conducive to having a girlfriend.” I caught Stella relax at my words. Did she like that I didn’t have a girlfriend or that I didn’t want one?

Stella and Penelope seemed to have a wordless conversation that I enjoyed watching as they stared each other down. Every so often, one of their brows would raise, or a lip would twitch, but that was the only sign of movement. After that, they remained quiet, and I was disappointed they were done with me.

With everyone eating the amazing dessert, it wasn’t long before everyone’s plate was left without a crumb. While I wanted to leave earlier, now I wished I could stay. I knew I couldn’t, though. I had to give Scout a break.

“Thank you for having me, ladies. It was a delight, but now I must get back to work. Have a good night.” I bowed to them, then taking a step away, I caught out of the corner of my eye as my dinner companion stood on wobbly legs.

“Whoa there,” I grabbed her arm to keep Stella from falling on her face. “Are you okay?”

She ducked her head and hid behind her shiny veil of hair. “I drank more than I realized, and it all just caught up to me. Would you walk me to my room? I really don’t want to fall overboard again.”

I’d probably be fired if she fell over again. Especially if it was because I wouldn’t walk her to her room.

“We can’t have that, can we?” I answered her, holding my elbow out for her to take.

“Where are you going?” Reagan asked with an arched brow.

“I’ll be back as soon as I use the restroom. Remy here is helping me, so I don’t fall off the boat again.”

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