Chapter Six #2
“Wow,” Nina said when she finally caught her breath.
She patted my shoulder. “Guess they didn’t name this yacht Serendipity for nothing.
Since you already know Chef Alex, why don’t you help him get settled.
” She turned to him. “I prefer to stay out of the chaos,” she said.
“And, uh, sorry again. For what I accidentally said.”
I grabbed Nina’s arm as she turned to leave. “Don’t you think it would be better if I—”
“Nope.” She pried my hand from her arm and winked before crossing the galley to the steps. “The guests requested a charcuterie board,” she called to Alex. “You do know how to make one, don’t you?”
“I’m sure I can google it,” he replied, smiling to himself as he stored the chopped carrots in a Tupperware.
I lingered at the edge of the galley and watched Nina disappear, leaving me alone with Alex. I was afraid to turn around and face him. This had to be a dream. No, a nightmare. Why else would the very person I was avoiding have magically appeared in the galley?
“I get the feeling I’m not her favorite person,” Alex said. I turned to find him leaning against the sink, watching me with that almost smile on his face.
I dragged myself from the edge of the galley and stood on the opposite side of the island counter. This didn’t need to be awkward unless I made it awkward.
“It’s nothing personal. She and the last chef were close.” I raised my eyebrows, hoping he’d catch my drift.
“Ah.” He nodded around the kitchen as if he could sense traces of Ollie in each appliance, then stepped away to rummage through the cabinets by the stove.
I stared at him, blinking over and over, sure I really was having a breakdown this time and could snap myself back into reality.
But every time I opened my eyes, he was still there.
Alex turned, catching me in the middle of a blink. “All right, I need to know what you’re thinking.” He leaned against the sink again, arms crossed casually over his chest.
“It’s just . . . what are the chances, right? I see you at Mitch’s, we live in the same building, and now you work here.”
Alex stepped forward and rested his elbows on the island counter. “Do you believe in fate, Jo?”
I tensed. Where was this conversation going? “Of course not. But it seems like an awful lot of coincidences.”
“Well, I do believe in fate. Blame the hippie parents, but I’m inclined to think everything happens for a reason.”
My pulse raced, but I forced myself not to look away. “So what’s the reason, then?”
Alex shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Guess we’ll have to wait to find out.
” His eyes finally left mine, and he disappeared for a moment, squatting down to dig through another cabinet.
“Cheese board?” he called, and I directed him to a cabinet beside the stove.
When he returned and set the cheese board on the island, he sighed.
“If it makes you feel better, there’s also a completely rational explanation for these coincidences. ”
That would definitely make me feel better, I thought. “And that explanation is?”
“Think about it.” He turned to the refrigerator and piled various cheeses and slices of meats on the counter. “I’m guessing you went to Mitch’s because it’s the closest bar to the condo, right?”
I nodded.
“Which is exactly why I was there.”
My eyes flitted to his mouth, and I remembered the events of our first coincidence. “Fair enough.”
“You said you inherited the condo from your grandmother, but it’s also the best place with two-bedrooms close to both the marina and Harper Middle School, which has the best special education program in the county. Greyson has some learning disabilities,” he explained.
Also fair. “And working on the same boat?” I asked.
“Xav and my dad go way back. He helped me get my first yachting gig four years ago. So when I was looking for a good school to move Grey to and found Harper Middle, I reached out to Xav. I told him I was looking to move up to Palm Beach and to let me know if he heard of any open positions. He called a few weeks later to offer me a job, and here we are.”
Alex stepped around the island on his way to the pantry, passing so close I could smell him again.
The scent reminded me of a bakery—warm croissants and blueberry muffins.
The thought was alarming. I did not need to be smelling this man or comparing his scent to various baked goods.
I was probably just hungry. We were in a kitchen, after all.
“I should double-check what the guests want for today,” I said, needing to put distance between us. I crossed the galley to look at the preference sheets, which our guests filled out so we’d know what they expected from us.
“I still think it’s fate, though,” he said. He set a box of artisan crackers beside the cheese board.
Nina believed in fate too. I wasn’t looking forward to our next conversation.
Knowing her, she’d probably steal my phone and look through the astrology app she’d forced me to download but that I never used.
I flicked at a preference sheet with a finger, not acknowledging Alex’s comment.
We had wine drinkers today, which I should’ve guessed by the charcuterie board.
I thought about Mia and Kitty. I’d been here for only half an hour, and already I was anxious to get that first text from them.
They’d get a kick out of this when they found out, though maybe they already had.
I wondered if they were with Greyson right now and if the three of them would puzzle this coincidence out for themselves.
Or would Alex and I not feature in their conversations at all?
I leaned against the side of the fridge and watched Alex work.
What was it like to raise a teenage girl all on your own?
How was it even possible with a job like ours?
“How do you make it work?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Charter season, and parenting, and all. Does Greyson’s mom have her when you’re away? ”
Alex arched a brow at me. “That’s a very specific question.”
I winced. What was it about this guy that brought out my inner weirdo? “Sorry, don’t answer that. Too personal.”
His almost smile lifted into a smirk. “I like that you skip the small talk.” I blushed, thinking of how I’d really skipped the small talk the other night.
“Every charter season for the last four years my parents have stayed at my place with Greyson.” He set down his knife and stepped over to the fridge, grabbing a jar of olives.
“This past season didn’t go so well, though.
Grey had a rough school year, and I should’ve been there.
” He seemed lost in thought for a moment, then sprang back to work and scooped olives from the jar.
“So here I am, working off-season and hoping I can piece together enough private gigs once charter season starts up again. Working in restaurants, now that’s not conducive to parenting.
” He caught my eye, and his joking expression returned.
“That was probably more personal than you were looking for.”
He picked up the box of crackers and held it out to me. Unable to resist food, I found myself standing right beside him at the counter. Damn my love of carbs.
“I think it’s interesting.” I bit into a cracker, and Alex gave me a skeptical look. “No, really. I always wonder how parents do it. My sister, she’s a nurse and has three . . . It’s cool how you manage it all. That’s what I meant to say.”
“I definitely don’t manage it all. I have a lot of help. I’m sure your sister does too. She has you, right?”
“I guess.” I nibbled the cracker and thought about Beth, not so sure I was much help to her.
Was she at work? I knew she had a shift this morning, but what if today was one of her impossible days when she couldn’t get out of bed?
I felt helpless knowing that even if I were by her side, I couldn’t take the pain away.
Alex swept his gaze around the galley. “Is there a speaker in here? The food tastes better if I listen to music.”
I waltzed over to the pantry. “Bluetooth speakers. Just queue up the music on your phone. The password is right here.” I tapped a small piece of paper taped beneath the panel for the sound system.
“But don’t play it too loud, or you’ll give Captain a heart attack.
He doesn’t like it when the guests can hear us having real lives. ”
Alex glanced down at his phone. “How about the Weeknd?”
Was he really asking about my weekend plans? And here I thought we’d finally had a normal, non-embarrassing conversation for once. I kept my eyes on the speaker’s panel. “I’m usually busy.”
Alex laughed. “Hold on.” He stepped over to the panel and connected his phone to the speaker. A song I vaguely recognized from the radio played, and Alex stared at me, singing along as if waiting for me to pick up on something.
“Oh!” I said, understanding as soon as he got to the chorus. “The Weeknd. The singer. I thought you were . . .”
“Asking you out?” He smiled, and I looked away. “You don’t date, though, right?”
“Uh, right.”
“Well, there’s another coincidence. Neither do I. You don’t have to worry about me. Though given past experience, I may have to worry about you.”
“No, I—”
“Teasing, Jo.” He turned up the volume of the music and started singing again, dancing his way across the galley.
Alex was something else, there was no doubt about it.
Confident, but not in the blustery way most men I’d met in bars were.
There was something endearing in his openness, even if he was sort of annoying.
When it was time to head up to the aft deck and greet the guests, Alex paused on his way out of the galley.
He ran a hand through his hair and straightened his chef’s jacket.
For a moment I thought he was nervous. But then he turned to me, face serious, and said, “You think I can become Hot Yacht Chef if I try hard enough?”
I rolled my eyes and pushed past him through the door. “I think you mean that yacht chef.” But what I was thinking was, Become? You already are. And then: Bad. This is very, very bad.
—
When I returned home that evening, giving Alex an awkward wave when we pulled into the condo parking lot at the same time, I found Mia and Kitty lying on their stomachs in the living room and watching Dr. Phil.
“Jo, you’ve gotta see this,” Mia said, waving me over. “This chick crochets sweaters out of her dog’s fur. It’s unbelievable.”
“Mia says it’s art,” Kitty said, “but I think it’s just disturbing.”
I set my purse on the entryway table and slipped off my shoes, setting them on the shoe rack by the door. “Well, I’ve got an unbelievable story for you.” I lowered myself onto the floor beside Kitty, crossing my legs beneath me. “You’ll never believe who the new yacht chef is.”
“If it’s not Gordon Ramsay, then I don’t care,” Mia said.
“I do! I care!” Kitty said, turning to me with an eager face.
I leaned back on my elbows, tilting my face up to the TV. “Remember Greyson’s dad?”
Kitty looked at me nervously, but Mia grinned. “Of course I remember. Seeing your panicked face after he caught you in the pool was only the best moment of my life.”
“Well, he just happens to be my new colleague.” I draped myself across Mia, mimicking one of her dramatic groans.
Mia pushed me off her and stared at me with wide eyes. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was kidding,” I sighed.
Mia nodded, her expression unreadable as she fumbled for words.
“That’s . . . even better than Gordon Ramsay.
” And then she and Kitty burst into laughter.
They laughed so hard that tears streamed down their cheeks.
This seemed to go on for minutes, and every time they calmed, nearly catching their breath, they’d look at me and it would start all over again.
It got to the point that even I was laughing along with them.
The whole situation was ridiculous. Who would believe it?
And by the time the three of us had finally calmed down enough to look at each other without dissolving into a fit of giggles, we were wheezing.
“Greyson is going to love this,” Kitty said, shaking her head as she pulled out her phone.
“Did you three have fun today?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Mia said. “Greyson is hilarious. We weren’t bored at all, were we, Kitty?”
Kitty snorted as she looked at her phone, not hearing Mia’s question. “Look.” She showed us the string of brightly colored emojis filling the screen. “She’s totally freaking out.”
I was relieved. Mia and Kitty were happy, and Greyson seemed to be a good distraction.
I thought about what Alex had said that morning about there being a reason for everything.
I still didn’t believe that. But maybe he was right about all our coincidences being fate, and maybe it had nothing to do with either of us.