Chapter 3
Georgia
Istand on the dock, staring at the Serendipity in awe. It’s not superyacht huge, like I had pictured in my mind. But it’s just as sleek and modern as I imagined, the silver sides and jet-black windows giving it this almost evil appearance.
“Come on,” Brody calls out to me, my suitcase still in his hand. “We need to get you settled in. I think Emmett and Miles are already in the lounge. You need to meet them.”
“Oh, okay,” I snap back to reality and then board, immediately noticing that this boat is probably the nicest place I’ve ever been in—and it’s a freaking boat. “I’m really excited to meet everyone.”
“They’ll be excited to meet you, too,” he responds while heading into the little hallway off the main deck of the yacht. I take in the dark blue sea and skies once more and then follow him.
“So, the stairs…” Brody instructs me as I join him, “You can go to the lounge and kitchen through there,” he gestures to a door. “If you go downstairs, then that’s all the cabins, except mine. I stay up on the captain’s floor. There’s also a lookout up there.”
“Sounds nice…” My voice trails off as I hear a burst of deep laughter from the other side of the door in front of me.
“Let’s go drop your bags off in your room first, then I’ll introduce you and finish showing you around.”
“Okay,” I nod, and let Brody lead the way, trying not to stare at the muscles in his back. Get your shit together, Georgia. He’s your boss. You’ve got to stop checking him out.
“Through here,” Brody leads me to the lower floor. “I’m giving you this bedroom.” He stops at the second door. “It’s got its own bathroom. The two that Miles and Emmett will use have to share one.”
“Okay.” I open my mouth to ask him who else is going to be on board, but I stop when he swings the door open. “Wow.” I take in the upscale bedroom, complete with a king-sized bed and black, edgy furniture.
“Everything is bolted to the floor, so it won’t go anywhere if the water gets a little rocky,” Brody chuckles.
The thought of this bed moving around makes my mind go to places it definitely shouldn’t.
“I love the grayscale,” I say, as Brody sets my bag down on the bed. “It’s very modern.”
He gives me a look, narrowing his eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”
I giggle. “I’m not. I like it.”
His expression seems to relax at that. “Well, I’m glad you like it. If you need absolutely anything at all, you can let me know. Emmett and Miles will help you out too. We don’t have maids and crew members. We do it all ourselves.”
“Oh?” I furrow my brow. “And what about the other guests?”
Brody furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you keep mentioning Emmett and Miles, but…”
“Oh.” His eyes grow slightly wider. “There’s no one else. It’s just me, Emmett Moretti, and Miles Jameson.”
I swallow the knot that forms in my throat. “Small group.” And only men.
He breaks into a grin. “I prefer it that way. Less drama.”
“Right,” I clear my throat, trying to shake off the extra burst of nervousness.
“Do you remember where I said the lounge is?”
“Yeah, I do. Up one floor, same level as the main back deck,” I answer. “I don’t think I can get too turned around here.”
“Perfect.” Brody heads for the door. “Why don’t you go ahead and get settled in, and then meet me in the lounge? I’ll introduce you to the guys and then show you the kitchen. Take your time. I think we’re going to head out after dinner.”
“That I’m supposed to make, right?” I don’t know why I ask the question. I already know the answer.
“That would be great, unless you need more time. I’m sure we can have sandwiches if it’s a problem,” Brody says with ease, shrugging his shoulders.
“I’ll make it,” I reply quickly. The last thing I want him to think is that I’m going to slack off and treat this trip like it’s a vacation—even if I’m only cooking for three men.
“See you in a bit.” Brody taps the metal doorframe and then closes me in, disappearing.
Oh my god. I plop down on the edge of the bed and run my hands over my face. I can do this. It doesn’t matter that there are only three guests. It’ll make my job that much easier, right?
But for some reason, it feels like the stakes just got upped or something.
It’s going to be a lot more… intimate. I had pictured feeding dinner to an entire party of like fifteen to twenty people. There’s a more distant element to a party like that.
But at least I don’t have to cook as much food, I reason with my anxiety.
I nod to myself like a crazy person, and then force myself to stand up.
Slowly but surely, I unpack my suitcase, which is full of mostly casual attire.
I stuff it into the drawers and load the bathroom with all my things from home.
The process of unpacking helps me settle my racing heart, and by the time I’m exiting my room to head to the lounge, I’ve fully convinced myself that everything is going to be okay.
I can totally do this. I’m getting paid a lot of money to do it.
I climb the spiral stairs, stopping at the main deck. We’re still parked at the marina, and once again, I can hear laughter coming from the other side of the steel door. I reach for the handle, take a deep breath, and then press the lever down.
I push the door inward and step into an immaculate, luxurious lounge.
It follows the same grayscale theme as the rest of the boat, but this floor has a splash of navy blue in the mix.
There, on one of the couches, are two men, both around my father’s age.
One is dark-haired, olive-skinned, and has intense green eyes behind black-rimmed glasses.
The other has dirty blonde hair and a warm expression.
They’re lost in conversation with Brody, who’s sitting on the arm of another chair across from them. And honestly, I hate the fact that every single one of them is impossibly attractive.
And probably super rich, too.
I let out a sigh without thinking, and the man with the dirty blonde hair’s eyes jump to me. His blue eyes seem to glow as they meet mine, and my head starts to spin.
Holy fuck, he’s hot.
“You must be our new chef?” His voice carries through the lounge, booming in a way that commands attention. “Georgie, right?”
Somehow, I manage to bob my head up and down. I should’ve corrected him, but I can’t seem to get my mouth to work. No one really calls me Georgie except family… and Brody.
He grins, flashing perfect teeth. “I’m Emmett.” He stands to his feet, as Brody and the second man, whom I now assume is Miles, turn their attention to me. “It’s really nice to meet you.” With a beer in one hand, he makes his way to me, extending his free hand.
I peer up at the six-foot-something intimidatingly handsome man. “Nice to meet you too,” I say confidently—way more confidently than I thought I could muster. “I’m excited to be a part of this for the next month.”
His lips curl upward, his warm hand still lingering on mine. “I like your enthusiasm, Georgie.”
I swallow hard as he pulls his hand away, then clear my throat. “Thank you.”
“This is Miles,” Brody speaks up, gesturing to the dark-haired man still seated on the couch. “He’s an attorney in Boston, and definitely the smartest out of the three of us.”
“I don’t know about that.” Miles’s eyes finally find mine, and I feel a hint of curiosity toward him, and the way he doesn’t seem to react to anything at all. I’d hate to have him cross-examine me in the courtroom.
“Emmett,” Brody gestures to the man beside me, “is a travel writer. He’s been to almost every country in the world.”
“Wow, that’s amazing,” I say, easily picturing him making friends wherever he goes.
“And you’re Robert’s daughter?” Emmett asks, his warm, smooth voice almost shocking to my system. “I don’t really see the resemblance.”
“It’s subtle,” Brody answers him. “It always has been. She takes after a grandmother on her mother’s side.”
I raise my brows. How does he even know that? I feel completely lost in the moment, realizing how surreal this whole situation is.
I’m actually going to spend the next thirty days with these three men.
I fold my arms across my chest as Brody heads toward me, placing a hand on Emmett’s broad shoulder.
“Let me show you the kitchen,” he smiles. “These guys can talk your ear off later.” He gestures with his head towards the kitchen, and my stomach drops when I realize I can see it from where I’m standing.
It’s in clear view of the lounge.
So while they’re hanging out in here, they can watch me cook like it’s some sort of show. My knees feel weak at that thought, but I brush it off. I can’t help the layout of the yacht.
Besides, they’ll probably be outside, enjoying the weather or something.
“So, it’s a standard kitchen,” Brody explains to me as we step into the U-shaped area.
“It’s not the same size as a commercial, but all the appliances are upgraded.
I want you to feel at home in here, so if there are any changes or things you’d like to have before we take off, let me know.
I can have someone deliver whatever you need. ”
I nod, running a hand over the black granite countertops. “It’s really nice.” My eyes sweep across the space—the double oven, the massive fridge and freezer, and the other appliances sitting on the counter. “I don’t think there’s going to be anything else I need.”
“Don’t be afraid to tell me if there is,” he urges, his voice purely professional, but also causing my thighs to clench for some reason.
Ugh. I roll my shoulders and busy myself with opening cabinets and taking mental inventory of everything that’s there, from food processors to the silverware. When I make it to the fridge and freezer, I realize quickly they’re stocked with nearly any ingredient I could ever need.
“We’ll also stop along the way,” Brody continues as I take it all in. “Our first stop will be Atlantic City. We’ll cruise along the east coast, and so if there’s ever some sort of emergency, we won’t be too far from land.”