Chapter Three #2
“I’ve had the pleasure of working with Ember for years now, and there’s no one who does a better table setting or a more superior dinner service.
She runs an elevated interior from laundry to entertainment, and that’s why I wanted her as my chief stew this season.
I know she’ll crush it. Let’s make sure to support her in every way we can in this new role. ”
“Thanks, Cap,” I said with a genuine smile.
He winked at me. “I’d also like to recognize Palmer here.
There’s no one I’d trust more to help me dock this behemoth in such a tiny marina.
He runs his deck team like a well-oiled machine, and I think you’ll all find that everything on a yacht runs smoother when the deck team is in order.
Let’s just hope our green deckie here can hang,” he added with a smirk at Eli.
“I won’t let you down, Cap!” Eli saluted before leaning back and stretching both of his giant arms along the back of the couch.
Captain continued, giving little tidbits about each member of the crew that he was excited about.
I blacked out a little when he was going on about Finn’s culinary accomplishments; although, I didn’t miss that he mentioned a restaurant in Dublin.
I wondered when he opened it, how it had done, and was it still open now?
The fact that he was here was answer enough to that last question.
Which only made a dozen more pop into my brain.
“Now, I will say, there is one first for me on this charter that I am not particularly thrilled about,” Captain said, his eyebrows raising as he shook his head. “But I’ve been assured there will be no issues.”
A few of us frowned — me included — as Captain sighed and ran a hand over his bald head.
“This will be my first time working a season with two crew members who are a couple on board.”
Did he just say… a couple?
For a moment, the entire crew was silent. Then, Bernard let out a whistle and threaded his hands behind his head, a smile on his face as he wagged his brows. “Oh, this ought to be good.”
I was inclined to agree, the corner of my mouth climbing as I surveyed my new teammates. I couldn’t help but try to guess who it was. Leah and Palmer, possibly? It obviously wasn’t Bernard, and no way was it Eli — that boy was a walking flirt if I’d ever met one.
The camera operators stood completely still where they flanked us, but I swore I felt their lenses adjusting — zooming, fixating, capturing reactions.
“Like I said, this is one first I’m not exactly thrilled about, but as long as you two keep it professional on the clock — the rest’s none of my business. Just keep the snogging to your down time in the crew mess or when you’re off the boat, yeah?”
I surveyed the crew on each couch, waiting for the lovebirds to reveal themselves, but everyone looked just as confused as I did.
I glanced back at Captain Gary.
Wait… why was he leveling a gaze at Finn?
The question had barely formed in my brain before my body started to shut down as the obvious answer hit me like an anchor, sinking my stomach and the now racing heart in my chest along with it.
As if the boat had taken on water, everything warped to slow motion. I gradually dragged my gaze to our chef.
Just in time to watch him slide a hand over Gisella’s knee.
My next breath lodged in my throat, eyes sticking to where his broad fingers were curling over her limb.
I knew that hand intimately, knew the way the tan skin stretched over the bones, the scar on his middle left finger from when he nearly cut off the tip of it, the calloused heat of his palm when he wrapped that hand around my throat and tightened just enough to make me gasp and open for him and beg for more.
I didn’t know what it looked like holding another woman.
I wished I’d never had to know that.
“Don’t worry, Cap,” Finn said, an affectionate smile aimed at Gisella as she batted her lashes and leaned into his side. “We’ll be so professional, you’ll forget we’re dating.”
“Yeah, I barely even like him, anyway,” Gisella teased, wrinkling her nose in a way that somehow made her even more adorable than she already was.
I was going to be sick.
Acid burned my throat, my mouth watering in a most unpleasant way that reminded me of nights I’d drank well past my limit. I was all too aware of the camera duo positioned behind the couch opposite me, how their lens was directed squarely at where I sat.
Do not react.
Do not fucking react, Ember.
But my face felt frozen. I fired off all the signals to my brain to tell my stupid mouth to form a stupid smile, but nothing happened.
I hoped my cheeks weren’t as red as the heat I felt burning in them, hoped my jaw didn’t look as unhinged as it felt, hoped the thick swallow I heard echoing in my ears wasn’t obvious enough for viewers to see when this show aired.
“I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” Captain said in a way of finality, still grinning and shaking his head as he looked to the clipboard in his hand. “Right. We’ve got our first charter tomorrow, and this boat needs a lot of work before then. Let’s get to it, shall we?”
“Let’s do this!” Eli declared, hopping off the couch with so much energy I flinched. I hoped I covered that reaction quickly with the smile I finally managed as I peeled myself off the couch and stood.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled with the distinct sensation of being watched, and when my gaze flicked to Finn, he was staring right at me again.
This time, his eyes were cautious, apologetic, the green-ish blue hue of them shadowed beneath his furrowed brows.
I’d had that man’s attention in so many ways before. I’d been the object of his lust, the subject of his longing, the root of his affectionate jest.
But this wasn’t any of that.
This was pity.
It soured my gut as much as it fanned the angry flame I hadn’t realized was cresting to an inferno inside my chest. How dare he pity me. How dare he think he has any power over me anymore.
How dare he still have the capacity to love again when he completely obliterated mine.
Somehow, I managed to tear my gaze from his, but the reminder he’d given me of how love is flimsy and fleeting stuck to me like tree sap.
I ignored the way my nerves were short-circuiting as I pinned my team with a smile, clapping my hands together and running over the list of items we still needed to accomplish before we called it a day.
My voice sounded far away and foreign as I assigned Bernard to prepare the cabins while Leah was sent down to laundry.
But this was how I’d survive. This was how I’d push past my discomfort and focus on the whole reason I was here.
I would continue inventory check and get started on the deep cleaning that needed to happen from bow to stern.
I would work — because that’s what I was here to do.
I would work and I wouldn’t think about Finn or Gisella or — no.
Another icy-cold realization slid down my spine.
Gisella was my fucking roommate.
I closed my eyes on a silent groan, knowing the producers were likely having a heyday with the fact that I’d unknowingly paired myself with my ex’s new girlfriend.
This was the drama they craved, the drama they created.
Well, I wasn’t going to feed into it.
I tilted my chin higher as the teams dispersed, even managing a smile and lighthearted joke as I passed Gisella on her way out to the sundeck.
“Ready for this, roomie?”
“So ready! I’m excited to get on deck. I need sun,” she said, closing her eyes and extending her arms out like she was sunbathing. “What about you, chief stew?” She waggled her brows. “Ready to run this floating hotel like a boss bitch?”
“I guess we’ll find out,” I replied with a smile that felt as tight as my clenched asshole. Why does she have to be so nice? “If I start sleep-talking about charcuterie boards, just roll me over and tell me I’m pretty.”
She giggled and promised me she’d do just that before she skipped out onto the deck.
Eli pretended like he was going to smack my butt when he slid past me next, but he held up his hands with a smirk at the last moment, casting me a wink and a comment about not calling HR.
I stood there for a brief moment when everyone was gone, savoring the newfound quiet of the salon.
And then I heard my name.
“Ember.”
I closed my eyes for only a second, and then I popped them back open, wide and focused, and clapped my hands together.
“Alright, let’s get this boat in order,” I said out loud to myself, to the cameras, to the viewers I knew would see this one day. I headed back to where I’d been working inventory before the crew meeting with the fakest smile I’d ever worn.
“Ember.”
I ignored the way my heart raced as I wove through the interior of the boat, ignored the faint, familiar voice chasing behind me. I was determined to just focus on my job and the opportunity I’d worked so long for, to ignore the chaos the stupid showrunners were trying to create.
But when I made it to the pantry outside the galley, I was pulled to a stop, a warm hand catching me by the crook of my elbow and spinning me.
And I snapped.
“What, Finn?” My chest heaved, an exasperated sigh clawing out of me as I tore out of his grip. My forced smile fell along with my flimsy attempt at acting unaffected by the latest bomb drop. I lifted my hands and let them drop against my thighs. “What?”
That last word came out breathy and exhausted, almost pitiful, like a dying soldier begging to be put out of her misery. But there was no taking it back now.
I was safe from his touch, but not from his gaze — which cut through me like a scalpel as he stood less than a foot away. His jaw was set, the muscle of it flexing as his eyes flicked between mine.
He looked devastated, like I was a puppy he’d accidentally hit with his car.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I whispered, swallowing, my gaze sliding to the floor between us.
“Ember, I didn’t… I wouldn’t have—”
The words died on his tongue, and even though I was narrowing my gaze at him and preparing to spit venom, I couldn’t help but lean into whatever he was about to say. I wanted his excuses. I wanted to know what choices he would have made differently.
I wouldn’t have lied to you if I’d known it would hurt you this badly.
I wouldn’t have kissed you if I’d known you’d think we were more than just a casual hookup.
I wouldn’t have let you go if I’d known I’d miss you this badly.
That last one was a stupid, aching kind of hope that I was a fool for even thinking. I knew the truth was likely more along the lines of I wouldn’t have agreed to this show had I known you’d be on it.
Why did he agree to this show? I knew why I was here. I had my first shot at chief stew. This was my chance to prove myself not just to my father, but to other captains in the industry. A few charters of this size and I could get my dream job.
The money was fantastic, between what they paid us for each episode and the tips we’d get over the next eight weeks. But why would he need the money if he had his restaurant?
How the hell had he ended up back in yachting at all?
Was it because the restaurant had failed?
Was it because he missed me? (Again, that stupid hope.)
Oh, God… was it for her?
The likelihood of that made my stomach roil. I hadn’t been enough for him, but clearly Gisella was. He was here with her instead of back in Ireland. He’d chosen yachting with her when he’d blatantly shut down that possibility with me.
Suddenly, a camera slid into the already cramped space we were in, the lens nearly knocking into the side of Finn’s head with its entrance.
I cleared my throat, tucking my hair behind one ear as I retreated back several inches. “Yeah, I’ll make sure to add some specialty cheeses to the provisions list. I think a charcuterie board when the guests arrive is a great idea.”
Finn swallowed, his nostrils flaring with his next exhale as he watched me back away, knowing the camera was on us now.
Knowing there was nothing more to say even if it wasn’t.
And with the last pretend smile I had in me, I turned, hustling through the galley and taking the stairs two at a time down to the crew quarters.