Page 41 of The Second Chance in the Mediterranean
I didn’t look up. “Dinner was nearly a failure. I need to rewrite some plans before bed.”
Seb took a thorough look around and, seeing no one except Roy at the sink, slid into the booth next to me, pressing his side against mine.
I compared my inventory notes. Did I have enough parsley to tweak the tartare recipe?
Seb’s arm came up around my back and kneaded my far shoulder while I flipped through my paperwork. Three bunches in the walk-in and I needed enough for the lamb.
After a few moments Seb’s fingers pressed in deeper and hit a knot above my shoulder blade. I lost focus on my paperwork and leaned my head to the side for a just a moment....
Reflexively, I twisted my shoulder out of Seb’s reach and squirmed. “Seb! I have to get this done. Go away.”
He laughed in disbelief. “I know. I’m just trying to help you relax.”
“I don’t need to relax. I need to get this menu finished!” My frustration leaked out with my words, and even though I knew Seb was trying to be supportive, the clock ticking away was stressing me out.
“Hey.” The admonishment from the doorway was Roy. His eyes bounced between Seb and me, and the tension in the room deflated.
“This is my job, Seb,” I said softly, looking up at him. “It’s high stress sometimes.”
Roy shuffled away, and Seb ran a hand through his hair, eyes downcast.
“I know. And I’m a distraction, right?” The corners of his mouth quirked, and he glanced up.
“Usually you’re the best kind of distraction.”
That got me a smile.
“Look,” he said, leaning back against the seat. “You are really good at your job. Tomorrow’s going to go a lot better than tonight. I know it. Just don’t stay up so late that you can’t function well tomorrow.” Seb wrapped a hand around my head and pressed his lips to my forehead.
“Okay, old man.”
The wisps of hair escaping from my bun tickled as he huffed a laugh. “Back to work with you. Night, flaquita.”
I worked for a while longer, the sounds of Roy cleaning keeping me company. When he finished, he sat beside me, and I showed him my revisions.
“Anything I should change?” I asked him.
He pursed his lips, flipping pages. “Nah.”
My head fell back. “Thank God. Let’s call it a night.”
I trudged through the empty guest quarters. When Natasha and Justin stayed, they preferred to sleep upstairs in the bridge deck cabin instead of down below. It was nice to be able to take a shortcut when the Boyds were here, although I knew that the next visit would also bring Alex with them and I’d be back to climbing the stairs, walking across the deck, and then back down the stairs by my cabin.
After a quick shower, I stumbled into my bed. My mind kept spinning, my body exhausted but unable to sleep. I rolled from side to side, visions of fresh pasta and basic sauces troubling me.
In the morning I woke up bleary-eyed and groggy, but I quickly got to work. The Boyds were very traditional with their breakfast, and early risers. Roy wasn’t up yet, so I had the quiet kitchen to myself, folding doughs and dicing fruit. I was no pastry chef, but I knew my fresh baked goods were delicious and worth the effort now.
Catarina passed through after a half hour. “Natasha and Justin are up doing yoga on the bridge deck. Can we have breakfast in thirty?”
“Absolutely.”
Thirty minutes later I was trooping up the stairs with Percy and Bok behind me. We had beans, sausages, eggs—fried for Justin, poached for Natasha—croissants, toast, spreads, and whipped butter. Will had already been through for freshly squeezed juice and I could find no fault in my meal preparation.
The day was crisp and muted, the sea state calm. Somewhere out to the east lay mainland Greece, but for now it was awash in the glimmer of sunrise.
The bridge deck cabin was a smaller cabin with big sliding glass doors looking aft, and huge windows giving them the best view. The doors were thrown open, lounge furniture pushed back to make room for yoga, and the dining table was seated with service for two. Catarina had set the table with elegant flowers and clamshell folded napkins.
A small bar cart was set up to the side with juices, coffees, and teas, and Will attended the Boyds. I paused to the side, waiting for Natasha to finish her chat with Justin and acknowledge me. She caught sight of me over Justin’s shoulder and smiled.
