Chapter Fifteen
CHARTER CONFESSIONAL
CLOSE QUARTERS
LEAH brOOKS: THIRD STEWARDESS
PRODUCER
Welcome back! How are you feeling?
LEAH
I’m feeling so much better, but also still mortified. How embarrassing to get sick on the second charter, and after a night out. I just hope Captain doesn’t think I was hungover. Not a good look!
PRODUCER
Well, I think everyone is glad to have you back. Are you excited about this charter?
LEAH
Oh my God, yes! These guests are so freaking fun. I mean, I have seen more ass and titties in the past twenty-four hours than in my entire life, I think, but they’re super nice.
PRODUCER
It was quite… interesting, unpacking for them, wouldn’t you say?
Leah covers her face and laughs.
LEAH
Yeah… definitely wasn’t prepared for all the… toys I’d find in those giant suitcases. No wonder the boys nearly threw their backs out lugging them on board.
PRODUCER
Can you give us some commentary on that to run with the footage? A live reaction of what was going on in your head?
Leah drops jaw, blinks, laughs.
LEAH
Wow… okay, then. I think it’s safe to say these guests came to party. I have never in my life seen a dildo this big.
Leah does a little dance, humping the air.
LEAH
But hey, no judgment here. Express yourselves, babes.
PRODUCER
Perfect. The guests do seem nice. They were thrilled with dinner, but that didn’t stop them from wanting midnight snacks.
LEAH
Oh… yes, I heard about this. Poor Ember was up so late!
PRODUCER
Finn, too.
LEAH
Rockstars, both of them. It’s not easy to smile and serve after such a long day like that. You know, I can totally understand how they were together in the past. They make a great team.
PRODUCER
Has it been weird at all, having exes on board? Any sticky situations?
LEAH
They’ve been professional, as far as I can tell. Bicker at each other like an old married couple, but other than that, I think it’s been fine.
Leah tilts head, arching brow at producer.
LEAH
But your cameras have seen more than I have, haven’t they?
The first day of the charter passed in a blur of champagne corks, shrieking laughter, and the unmistakable slap of bare skin against our freshly cleaned sun pads.
Our guests wasted no time making themselves at home.
By the time they’d finished the tour, Nicole was topless, her girlfriends were taking turns trying to flash the drone camera operators, and Mark was already flirting with Leah and boasting how he and Nicole had an open marriage.
That was especially charming, considering he was wearing nothing but a gold thong and sunglasses that spelled out Daddy in rhinestones.
I, of course, checked in with Leah to make sure no one was making her uncomfortable. It was one thing to do whatever it took to please the guests and get a tip, but another entirely if anyone crossed a line and made my crew feel unsafe.
But bless her heart, Leah was just happy as a clam to be back with us, and she said she felt about as threatened by Mark as she did a goldfish.
I shuffled through my to-do list with an impenetrable smile. Guests like this were a nightmare for logistics, but they were a hoot once on board, and they usually tipped well. Besides, their over-the-top antics were the exact kind of chaos that made for a memorable charter.
I knew the producers had to be happier than toddlers with fresh containers of Play-Doh.
Leah had tumbled into the crew quarters when we were all changing into our polos, breathless, eyes wide. “Uh… Em? I need you to come look at something.”
She’d dragged me to the primary’s cabin, where Nicole’s luggage lay open like a crime scene. Among the designer dresses and strings that made up her swimsuits, if you could call them that, was… a weapon.
In the form of a dildo so large and so aggressively pink, it looked like it belonged in a museum — or a horror film.
Leah and I just stared at it, slack-jawed, until Bernard poked his head in to see what had us mesmerized.
One glimpse and he was howling, and then Leah put on gloves and winced as she carefully laid the thing out on the nightstand along with a bottle of lube like they were a tray of chocolates.
That had me and Bernard laughing even harder, until we were both gasping for breath and clutching our sides.
And that was the vibe all day.
The crew was buzzing from the energy the guests brought on board, everyone wearing smiles — in fact, the guests wearing nothing but smiles as they sunbathed on the top deck.
Dinner was flawless, the Studio 69 theme landed perfectly with mirror balls hanging over the table and disco-themed cocktails glowing in neon colors.
Finn’s tasting menu blew everyone away, from the decadent lobster and caviar bites to the playful chocolate fondue fountain at the end.
“Finn! Marry me!” Nicole had shouted across the table, licking melted chocolate off her fingers.
“Sorry, angel,” Finn had called on his way back to the galley. “Already taken.”
Gisella had beamed at that, the guests oohing and awwing while I busied myself re-filling drinks and dutifully ignored the way my ribs constricted.
The party raged long after dinner, the deck turning into a glittering karaoke lounge under the stars.
They sang 70’s hits so badly the dolphins probably swam for quieter waters, and they drank enough champagne to have them dancing in nothing but sequined underwear — though I doubted they needed any booze to reach that level of bravado.
It was after midnight when they began to quiet, and I was aching for my bed and a good night’s rest. I was tidying up their glasses and wiping down surfaces, just biding my time until the last of them headed off to bed.
But suddenly, Nicole gasped from where she lounged on the luxe cream sofa in the main salon. “Ember! We need snacks!”
Mark was still up with her, along with one of her girlfriends, Megan, and her brother-in-law, Luke. They all gasped in sync, clapping at the revelation, and I internally groaned while plastering on my best smile.
“Of course. Finn already prepped some for you. Let me go grab them.”
I ducked into the galley, stifling a yawn as I pulled out the trays Finn had put together earlier in the day — a gorgeous midnight spread of crudités, charcuterie, fruit, chips, and dips.
But when I returned, Nicole pouted, Megan picking up one of the pieces of fruit with a wrinkled nose and a very serious frown.
“No, no,” Nicole said, shaking her head. “We need snacks, Ember. Grilled cheese. Nachos. Cheese fries. Mozzarella sticks.”
“Basically anything dripping with hot cheese,” Mark chimed in on a laugh, throwing his arm around his wife. “My baby loves steamy, wet, hot—”
“Got it!” I said with an uncomfortable laugh, already on my way to the galley. “Your wish is my command. Do you need any refills before I get to work?”
Luke lifted a half-full bottle of champagne. “Don’t you worry about us, darling.”
I hoped my smile didn’t reek of exhaustion as I nodded and excused myself, and as soon as I made it to the galley, I let out a long sigh.
Fuck my life.
I didn’t want to wake Finn. He’d kicked his ass all day between the welcome aboard snacks, the fresh lunch, and the multi-course dinner. He’d had to cook for the crew in between, too.
We all needed sleep, but he needed it most.
Besides, how hard could cheese fries be?
It was fine.
I could do this.
I hummed a little to myself as I started pulling out ingredients, checking them off in my mind as I thought of everything I needed to bring this cheese parade to life.
The worst part was that we didn’t have frozen fries I could just pop in the oven.
No, Finn made everything from scratch, which meant I was going to have to figure out how to do the same.
Thank God for Google.
I was halfway through cooking bacon — expertly, if I do say so myself — when a voice slid down my spine like a slow, wicked hand.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Finn stood in the doorway, barefoot and sleep-rumpled, hair a mess, t-shirt clinging to his chest in a way that made me want to slide my hands under it and feel the warmth of the skin it clung to.
I tore my gaze away and back to the task at hand, ignoring the very strong zip of electricity that slid between my thighs at the thought.
“Didn’t want to wake you,” I said, flipping the bacon. “I see I failed in that mission.”
“Bacon has a very distinct scent, and since I’m the chef on this boat, I was more than a little worried when I smelled it in the middle of the night.”
“Well, no need to worry. I’m just whipping up some—”
“Stop.” He crossed the galley in two long strides, taking the spatula from my hand like I was a child caught playing with knives. His hand wrapped around mine in the process, a fleeting touch, but it seared my skin like lava.
It was insanely hot, the way he commanded control with the snatching of that spatula.
And it did not help the unwanted tingles situation I had going on.
“Go to bed,” he growled.
Hot.
Why is it so hot?
“I’ve got it,” I argued, even as he maneuvered me out of the way.
He swatted my ass — a sharp, playful smack that made me yelp. “I said go to bed.”
My mouth dropped open. “Finn!”
“Let me do my job, love.” He grinned over his shoulder as he took over the bacon and then began expertly cutting the potatoes I’d peeled, knowing the guests wanted fries without me even saying it.
I was still standing there with my jaw on the floor when he peeked at me again, arching a brow.
“You just going to stand there when you could be sleeping?”
I blinked out of my daze, but his handprint on my ass might as well have been a tattoo for how impossible it was to ignore. I rolled my lips together, popping a hip against the nearest counter and folding my arms.
“As chivalrous as your demand is, as long as they’re awake,” I said, nodding toward the main salon. “So am I.”
“Then I guess you’re keeping me company.”