Page 40 of The Second Chance in the Mediterranean
“It’s lovely to see you too. We are most excited to be here on this culinary weekend.”
Roy peeked around behind me and greeted Natasha with a warm hug and air kisses.
Justin joined us, touching Natasha’s elbow as he came up behind her. He towered above her, his hair fiery red and a mischievous grin on his lips. He greeted me with air kisses. Most of my communication had been with Justin, so I was immediately more comfortable with him. Roy hugged him too, relaxed and casual with the couple.
“How are you finding things onThemisso far?” Justin asked me.
“Excellent. I knew coming in that Dom would be a joy to work for, and I’m glad to say I’ve been right.”
“And how has our Roy been treating you?” Justin slapped him on the back.
“He’s proven to be a great crew chef so far.”
“Excellent. We’re looking forward to this weekend. Nat’s been extremely busy at work, and I’m just happy to be out of the house a bit more.”
I had researched the couple prior to committing to the job, and knew that Justin had been a stay-at-home dad, and continued not to work even after their children had grown. Thus, he took care of more of the personal matters for the couple.
Justin winced. “I heard about the messy business with the charter.”
Roy didn’t sugarcoat it. “It was rough, but we pulled it off.”
“Well, here’s to Natasha and I being less of a wreck.” He sipped his drink, amber liquid in a tumbler.
“We’re happy to have you,” I said. “Do you have any questions about the menu for tonight?”
I recited the menu and the Boyds assured me it sounded good, and Roy and I departed back to the galley. We were still a few hours from dinner service, so we worked together to accomplish the prep work and clean as we went.
The call for dinner came around eight thirty, later than I was expecting. I plated up the dishes and sent them upstairs with Bok and Caroline. I followed fifteen minutes later to stand by for feedback.
Dom sat at the table, dining with Justin and Natasha. When I crested the stairs, the discussion centered around the next day’s plans.
“...walking through the Old Town and Esplanade before it gets too warm.”
“Mr. Boyd, Mrs. Boyd, how is dinner this evening?”
Natasha looked down at her plate and my heart skipped a beat. “Marcella, of course I was excited to have you cook a traditional Italian meal, but perhaps a puttanesca was a poor start. I find the sauce too salty for my taste, and it could be smoother. Unless I’m mistaken, the pasta is from a box?”
I took a big breath, eyes wide. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I understand that we’re going more casual in concepts than we might be for a special event or a charter guest, but I still expect the dishes to be sublime. A simple sauce base is not going to cut it. Please, brighter flavors”—she gestured with her fork—“and really, let’s push the limits here.”
I forced myself to exude confidence. This job was ideal, I was an excellent chef, it was just a minor setback and teething pains. “I completely understand. Would you prefer something else?”
“No, we will continue with this. It’s good, Marcella.” She cupped my elbow. “It’s just not as good as it could be.”
I turned to Justin, who swallowed his bite and looked up at me. “I’d like a word with Will, too. I like the reds a bit bolder than this one. The bread is excellent, as expected.”
As eager as I was to please the Boyds, and as much as their criticism stung, I dipped my chin. “Roy made the bread, sir.”
Justin grinned. “Please pass along my compliments.”
Taking the stairs down, I wondered how I could turn this around. It was only the first night, and the Boyds’ disappointment sat like an anchor in my belly as I appeared to have fallen short.
Nineteen
Before retiring,I dug deep and pushed away my guilt at the subpar performance and set to redeem myself. I rewrote the entire menu for the next day. No, not rewrote, replanned. We were still going to serve the same dishes—a warm pasta with confit and vegetables, but I would make it more distinguished, better. While I sat in the crew lounge, reworking the menu, Seb passed through.
He did a double take when he saw me. “Marce, what are you doing up? The Boyds are in bed already.”
