Chapter 3
DANI
Lunch was served on the aft deck, the long table set with white linen and silverware.
The Whitfields had requested alfresco dining for their first meal aboard, and Lindsay had prepared a Mediterranean spread of grilled sea bass with lemon and herbs, roasted vegetables glossy with olive oil, a quinoa salad studded with pomegranate seeds, a green salad scattered with herbs, and fresh bread still warm from the oven.
It looked beautiful and elegant, the kind of meal that photographed well for the charter company's Instagram.
For the children, Lindsay had made spaghetti bolognese but the younger ones weren't impressed.
"Bea doesn't eat fish or pasta," Sarah said, not looking up from her phone. "I'm sure I put that on the form."
It was definitely not on the form, but Dani's smile didn't waver. "I'm sorry about that. I'll check with the chef. In the meantime, we also have some grilled chicken I can bring out for the younger ones."
"Chicken's fine, but no sauce. Tyler has a texture issue and Noah won't eat anything green."
"Of course. Plain chicken, no greens." Dani retreated to the galley with the first round of modifications.
Patricia and Gerald, at least, were easy. They'd accepted their sea bass with genuine delight, Gerald already on his second glass of Sancerre, Patricia praising the presentation. David and Caroline were reasonable too—Caroline had asked for dressing on the side and David wanted extra bread.
And then there was Sarah's side of the table.
Tyler, fourteen and sullen, had his earbuds in and was ignoring everyone.
He didn't like spaghetti bolognese either.
Noah had already knocked over his water glass twice and was now building a fortress out of bread rolls.
And Bea, with her stuffed elephant propped in the chair beside her, had burst into tears when she'd seen the fish because "it still has eyes, Mommy, it's looking at me. "
Grace had calmed her down while Dani quickly served the adults and removed what was left of the fish from the table.
In the galley, Lindsay was carving chicken at the stainless steel counter. "That was quick," she said, taking the fish plate.
"I had to work fast; the fish had eyes," Dani said. "Could I have the chicken plain, please? Vegetables on the side? Noah doesn't eat green things and Tyler and Bea don't like the pasta." She shrugged. "Sorry."
"It's fine." Lindsay started plating the chicken. "It's not the first time and it won't be the last."
"Has Grace moved into my bunk yet?" Dani asked.
"Yeah, she's settling in. Honestly, I think she's relieved to be down here. Further away from Sarah? That's not a downgrade, that's a holiday." Lindsay smirked. "What about you? How do you feel about Operation Bunking With The Captain?"
Dani felt heat rise to her cheeks. "It's worth it for the extra cash. No big deal."
"No big deal? You're about to spend a week sharing a cabin with the woman you've been pining over since the day you first stepped aboard this yacht."
"I haven't been pining. Stop saying that."
"Everyone's seen it. I have a list."
"There's no list."
"There's absolutely a list. It's a mental one. I started it after the first time you openly gawked at her when she hauled that anchor line in by hand when the windlass jammed. Remember? First charter, forty knots of wind."
Dani remembered. She also remembered being unable to look away from Jordan's forearms, the cords of muscle standing out as she worked the line.
"You were practically drooling," Lindsay added.
"I was not—" Dani stopped herself. "Whatever. Just give me the chicken."
Lindsay handed her the plates with a grin that promised this conversation wasn't over.
Dani had barely set the chicken down when Sarah waved her over. "What's the plan for this afternoon?" she asked. "The kids are hoping for some water activities."
"Of course." Dani mentally scrolled through the itinerary the family had signed off on.
They all had a printed copy in their rooms but most guests ignored them.
"We're making the crossing to the Bahamas this afternoon and overnight, so we'll arrive at Highbourne Cay tomorrow morning.
There's a beautiful private beach there, and we'll anchor for snorkeling and some time ashore. "
"Tomorrow morning?" Sarah's voice rose. "The kids can't wait until tomorrow. They've been cooped up in a car all morning and need to burn off energy. They've been promised a beach today."
"We do have the hot tub on the sundeck," Dani offered.
"No, that's not good enough. They want to swim. In the ocean. Not a hot tub." Sarah's tone had an edge to it, the impatience of someone used to getting her way. "Can't we stop somewhere on the way?"
The rest of the adults looked a little irritated at Sarah's request, but they didn't interfere.
Dani kept her smile in place. She'd already anticipated this.
"We can absolutely make a swim stop before the crossing.
There's a beautiful reef anchorage about an hour from here—Looe Key.
Shallow, clear water, lots of fish for the kids to see.
We can anchor there for a couple of hours, let everyone swim, and then start the passage to the Bahamas afterward. "
"That would be better." Sarah started scrolling through her phone while she took a bite of fish, apparently considering the matter settled.
Dani topped off their drinks and headed for the bridge. A route change meant recalculating arrival times, which meant adjusting dinner service, which meant Lindsay losing prep time. Everyone's planned breaks would shift around.
But the crew wouldn't complain. This was the job—adapting on the fly, making it look effortless, keeping the guests happy even when they tore up the itinerary before the first day was over.