Chapter 3 #2
I shut the fridge and look over to him. “Thank you. Where’s the recipe book?”
“Right,” Brody clears his throat, as if I just caught him off guard.
“Let me show you.” He goes to one of the furthest drawers, clicking and pulling it open.
He retrieves a black binder. “I have no idea what Dimitri had in here, but it was what he gave me the ingredient list from. Do with it what you will. You don’t have to follow it though. ”
I take the book from him and flip it open, scanning the recipes. Not a single one of them is all that complicated or fancy. I blow out a breath of relief, seeing that his dinner planned for the first night was just chicken fettuccini Alfredo with garlic bread and Caesar salad.
I can do better than this.
“Thank you for this,” I say, shutting the binder. “I appreciate it. Are there any food allergies or preferences?”
Brody shakes his head. “If you make the food, we’ll eat it. Even though we probably come across like total Prima donnas, we’re actually all pretty easy going.”
I let out a light laugh, but I still feel tension in my shoulders. “Okay, well,” I glance at the clock on the wall. “I probably should get started on dinner. Does seven sound like a good time?”
Brody grins. “Sounds perfect to me.” He winks at me, and my stomach does a somersault.
Thankfully, I don’t have to come up with a reply because Brody saunters off toward the other two, who I realize have been watching me the entire time. I take in the sight of the three of them together and wish more than anything that I hadn’t left my phone in my room.
Daisy would’ve eaten this up.
I’m literally going to be trapped on a boat with three handsome men. I can’t decide if this is a total nightmare yet, but at least it’s more interesting than listening to some lady bitch about perfume.
I grab the black book and start flipping through it, searching for something more complicated. I know I can cook, and when there are directions, it’s all the easier. I finally stop on a Mediterranean stuffed salmon recipe with couscous and vegetable stir fry.
I start the motions of pulling the fresh salmon out of the refrigerator and working through the steps. My hands shake as I set the fish on the counter and grab a knife to slice and stuff it with the spinach, capers, and Greek yogurt.
“Look at her go,” Emmett calls out from the lounge. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“Don’t antagonize her,” Miles grumbles, barely loud enough for me to hear.
I don’t look up from where I’m slicing the fish, already knowing that if I do, I’ll find three sets of eyes focused on me. I didn’t know I was going to be dinner and a fucking show. I try to keep the embarrassment from flooding my cheeks as I miss my cut and slice the fish unevenly.
Get it together, Georgia. Just remember what you learned in school.
“Yeah, she really just doesn’t look like Robert,” Emmett comments, his tone almost husky.
My knuckles grow white on the knife’s handle.
“She’s nothing like Robert,” Brody confirms. “She’s sweeter, more driven, too. I think she has a good head on her shoulders.”
“But she’s a risk taker like her dad,” Miles points out. “She agreed to this trip, and that’s definitely a risk.”
I stuff the spinach inside the salmon and then set the knife down, looking up at the three men. “You do know I can hear you, right?”
Emmett’s mouth breaks into a wide grin. “I was hoping that you could, Georgie. It’s no fun if you don’t hear what we have to say.” His eyes dance across my face, amusement etched in every single line on his face.
“You can just walk over here and punch him in the face, if it’d make you feel better,” Brody grumbles, and shoots Emmett a glare.
“It’s okay,” I say quickly, and then turn back to the fish.
Thankfully, the men fall into more quiet conversation after that, no longer staring at me.
I focus on the task at hand, going through the motions of the recipe.
I feel the sweat beading up on my forehead, and I use my forearm to wipe it away for the next forty-five minutes, until I’m finally setting three plates out on the counter.
“Dinner,” I call out breathlessly.
All three men are on their feet at the sound of my voice, and I stand back, my arms folded across my chest. I have no idea if the food I made is even good, given that I haven’t tried any of it yet.
I’m such a dumbass. I forgot to make myself a piece of salmon. Hopefully, there will be some couscous and vegetables left over for me. I don’t know with these guys though—they look like they can put some food away.
Brody is the first to take a bite of the salmon. He chews it, his eyes widening. “You’re good,” he says through a mouthful. “Really good.”
“Agreed,” Miles chimes in, swallowing a bite of the couscous. “And I don’t even usually like couscous.”
“But fuck, this salmon,” Emmett groans, and when I look over to him, he’s already devoured half the food on his plate, just standing there like a human vacuum.
My shoulders drop with relief, and I swear I could cry. “I’m glad you’re all happy.”
“Very,” Brody smiles that genuine, comforting grin. “I think you’re the perfect addition to the trip, Georgie, and a way better cook than Dimitri ever was.”
“Agreed,” Emmett nods his head, still shoving food into his face. “I think we should hire her full-time. I’ll just gorge myself on a boat for the rest of my life.”
“That’s a bit dramatic,” Miles snips, rolls his eyes, but then looks at me. “It is really good though, Georgia.”
Heat flushes my cheeks at the intense look in his eyes. “Thanks,” I reply, a little breathless.
“Maybe next meal, you’ll make yourself a plate and join us.” Brody shoots me a wink as they head to the dining room.
My heart flips in my chest. “Yeah, good idea.”
I turn to clean up and let out a heavy exhale.
What the hell did I agree to?