Page 16 of The Second Chance in the Mediterranean
“Me and Seb?” Cat’s expression shifted to surprise and I quickly backtracked.
“No, I mean...you and anyone? Not Seb, obviously. Not that, like, he wouldn’t be into you. I mean. He’s...You’re...”
She smirked at my stammering.
“There’s a guy from another boat who I hook up with occasionally, when we’re in port together. And one guy in Barcelona I can call up sometimes.” She shrugged. “But nothing serious.”
I changed the topic to ask her about Barcelona—a port we’d be visiting by the end of the season—and she moved on too, thankfully. I didn’t want to think about Seb hooking up with anyone, didn’t want to think about how he had hooked up with me while we worked together, so what would keep him from hooking up with another coworker?
* * *
It wasthe first day of the charter, six a.m., andThemiswas a flutter of activity already. The guests were scheduled to arrive at nine, and we expected to leave the dock at ten to set sail. Activity on the deck above me had me hustling to move faster and get out of the cabin. I twisted my long dark hair into my usual bun, threw on chef pants and aThemistee, and went out the door.
I slid open the doors to the master suite, the last time I’d get to take the shortcut through it until the guests left. The room was spotless, linens intricately folded, bar cart sparkling in the corner, and the shades thrown open.
I passed through the atrium and guest cabins before arriving into the galley. It was quiet, though I knew people were up.
After slipping on my apron and chef jacket, I affixed the radio to my belt and slid the earpiece in. “Morning, all.”
The radio crackled before Dom came in. “Morning, Marcella. Flight check shows on-time delivery.”
“Excellent, thanks. Catarina, you on?”
Instead of answering, the door opened in the main deck lounge and Cat’s dainty steps echoed down the stairs. She smiled at me before speaking into the radio. “Cat here, I’m in the galley. We’ll get cracking.” She had her clipboard ready to go for notes and set hers down next to mine.
“Morning, Cat.”
“Good morning. I started the coffee maker upstairs. Would you like a cup?”
I grimaced at the idea of the instant grounds Cat liked. I tilted my head toward the espresso machine. “No, thanks, I’ll get this thing started.”
She nodded. We went over our notes together, refreshing our memories and confirming the schedule. Continental breakfast would be served when the guests arrived, and we would depart at ten.
Crew filtered in and out while we talked, grabbing supplies, firing up machines, getting the day started, everyone knowing where they needed to be. Cat excused herself, and joined her crew while I started in on baking.
Voices came down from upstairs, Roy’s and Seb’s, and two sets of footsteps followed.
Seb paused when he saw me.
“Hey, mate. Warn a bloke if you’ve got brakes on. I nearly spilled my tea.”
Seb stepped aside and Roy gave me a cheeky grin. “You got the espresso machine going early this morning, yeah? A little extra boost for those of us who were up too late last night.”
“I wasn’t up too late last night,” Seb muttered. “I was doing my job.”
The night before clients arrived, the exterior crew started their night watches in preparation for a week of being on anchor. When the boat was out at anchor, someone was always on watch. Seb had had the graveyard shift last night, but still had to be up to care for the guests and help his team out. We all had our own version of twenty-hour workdays during a charter.
“Right, squeegeeing windows and writing the same numbers down eleventy billion times.” Roy started rummaging around the fridges and pulling fruit out. “At least Marce and I get ‘normal’ hours.”
I tried to ignore Roy and Seb chattering away. I knew it wouldn’t last long, since Seb probably had only a fifteen-minute break. I focused my attention on laminating my croissant dough. Roll, fold, turn, roll, fold, turn.
“Oi, mate, stop eating all my hard work.”
“Stop making fun of my job.”
“I gotta do it now before you become the boss of all of us.” Roy saluted Seb. “Captain Alvarez.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. We’ve got a few years.”
