Chapter Twenty-Nine
PRE-PRODUCTION CONFESSIONAL
CLOSE QUARTERS
GARY PARKS: CAPTAIN
PRODUCER
So, part of your stipulation before signing your contract for the show was that we require a mandatory day of safety training for each crew member.
CAPTAIN
That’s right.
PRODUCER
Can you tell us more about that decision?
CAPTAIN
They should all already have a training or two under their belt, but I’m not taking any chances.
It’s stressful enough running a boat this size with demanding charter guests.
Add the chaos of a reality show on top and, well — let’s just say we’re tempting fate.
If something goes pear-shaped, I need to know my crew’s not gonna freeze.
PRODUCER
What could go wrong?
Captain Gary laughs.
CAPTAIN
You’re kidding, yeah? Anything. Everything. Guest could get hurt, there could be a fire, someone’s off their face and making dumb choices, putting themselves or someone else in danger. Happens quicker than you think.
PRODUCER
What about man overboard? I see here that was something you specifically required in the safety training. Is that one that happens often?
CAPTAIN
Not often, but it happens. And it’s bloody dangerous.
PRODUCER
Why’s that?
CAPTAIN
If we’re anchored and it’s daylight, no worries. Warm water, good visibility — we’re in and out, guest back on deck with a towel and a drink.
Captain swallows, pauses.
CAPTAIN
But you throw in a few variables — nighttime, choppy swell, vessel’s underway — it’s a different ballgame. You’d be surprised how fast you can lose someone in the water.
PRODUCER
Well, let’s hope nothing like that happens.
CAPTAIN
From your lips to God’s ears, mate.
We managed to survive day one of the charter, but as the sun set on day two, I swore I saw the smoke before the fire.
The light turned gold and soft across the water, casting long shadows over the teak deck.
It should have been a moment of peace — the Successful Six dressed for dinner, cocktails in hand, laughing and seemingly enjoying each other’s company.
But the wind had picked up slightly, threatening to dismantle the carefully curated tablescape Bernard and I had worked so hard on.
And I felt that wind like the warning it was.
Bernard nodded his head at where Russell was leaning in close to Maria by the bar, his face pinched in concern as Maria confessed something in soft whispers. “Think there’s anything between those two?” he asked.
I’d picked up on the oddities of our guests over the last day and a half, and though no one was outright saying it, I knew there were plenty of stories in this group. One thing I knew for sure was that I had been right about the general feeling around Maria — that she didn’t belong.
Well, at least not to anyone but Russell.
He was married to our primary, but just like right now, I’d seen him spending more of his time with Maria than anyone else.
Fortunately for him, his wife was busy the whole charter trying to get the approval of her fashion designer friend. She begged to see his latest designs before showing him the houses she had closed on recently. It was easy to see by his flat lips that he was not impressed in the slightest.
I had no idea why anyone would want to spend time with people who clearly didn’t care for them. It made me feel a bit sad for the rich and famous. From what I’d seen of them, it was damn near impossible to have real friends.
“Whatever it is, Tammy has been oblivious to it,” I muttered back.
Just then, Tammy glanced over at her husband mid-laugh. The moment she saw who he was cuddled up with, her smile slid into a frown, her neck turning red.
Bernard ticced a brow. “Perhaps not.”
The wind blew in a strong gust, and Bernard and I sprang into action, hands flying to cover the cards we had at each table setting.
It was the high school reunion night theme they’d asked for, and we had cards printed per Tammy’s request where they could vote for their favorites, everything from Most Likely to Shamelessly Brag to Most Likely to Die Alone.
Seemed a bit harsh to me, but she was delighted about the whole thing.
The wind died down again, and I was adjusting the ribbon around a menu when I heard the first shout.
It was indistinguishable at first, but my head whipped toward the sound just in time to see Russell flip the tray of drinks Leah had in her hands. It clattered to the deck.
Glass shattered everywhere.
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you to shake my goddamn martini?!”
Maria backed away from Russell just as Tammy came rushing over. “What in God’s name is going on?”
“This genius can’t make a cocktail to save her life, which is sad, considering it’s the whole fucking point of her job.”
I rushed over, trying to calmly, but firmly, contain the situation. I gently squeezed Leah’s shoulder when I realized she was trembling. But the second I touched her, she shrugged away, dropping to the deck to put her focus on picking up glass.
“If I could have all of you step over here away from the glass, that would be best for safety reasons,” I said, trying to usher the group toward the table. “Dinner will be ready soon, and—”
“Shit!”
We all turned toward Leah, who was sitting back on her heels now, her hand held up as she inspected it.
Blood dripped from a nasty cut on her middle finger.
“Serves her right,” Russell muttered.
That did it for me.
“Sir, I understand you’re upset about your drink. Bernard will rectify that immediately.” Bernard jumped into action as I said the words, dashing inside to make a new martini. “But I need you to know that we will not tolerate any abuse toward our crew, verbal or otherwise.”
“Abuse?” He laughed. “You Gen-Z kids are so fucking sensitive.”
“Russ,” Tammy chastised, yanking him toward the railing. “You will not ruin this trip for me.” She smiled back at me over her shoulder, mouthing, “I got him.”
I gave her a weary look that I wasn’t so sure, but there was no time to dwell on it. Instead, I raced for the first-aid kit just inside the sliding glass doors and then right back to Leah.
“Let me see,” I said, digging through the kit for tweezers.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine,” she shot at me again, and then I felt a hand squeezing my shoulder. I looked up to find Eli with a sympathetic, but strained, smile. He bent down to join us, then nodded his head toward the waiting guests.
It was my cue to leave.
Reluctantly, I stood, backing up when Palmer swept in to finish cleaning up the mess. I had a dinner service to prepare for, so I was thankful for everyone’s help.
But it didn’t make the judgment in their eyes any easier to stomach.
I checked in on Russell and the other guests, making sure no one had caught a rogue glass shard. By some miraculous feat, Bernard had Russell laughing by the time we sat them at the table, and Leah didn’t need stitches.
I thought we’d made it out unscathed.
The guests’ asses had barely hit the chairs when Finn’s voice cut in over the crew radio.
“Ember, Ember, Finn. Can you come to the galley as soon as possible?” His voice had an edge to it that made the hair on my arms raise.
“Copy, on my way.”
I bolted for the galley with a short instruction for Bernard to get wine service started, and when I slid into Finn’s domain, I paled.
The galley was filled with smoke.
“What the hell happened?!”
I picked up the nearest dishtowel and started waving it in the air, trying to disperse the smoke before an alarm went off. Captain Gary ran in next, cursing before he was on the radio telling engineering to get ready to cut the alarms.
“No idea,” Finn said. “The oven shorted, I think. Something electrical? The whole unit is out — burners, too.”
“Engineering is on the way,” Captain said.
“Are you okay?” I asked Finn, registering that he was running his hand under the faucet.
“Just a little burn,” he promised. “I thought I’d be a hero and save dinner, but the lamb is toast. Literally. And I’ve got no heat on the second course. No mains, no sides. Nothing. Unless you want to serve them raw fennel and vibes.”
“Would have worked for our first charter guests, wouldn’t it?” Captain Gary tried to joke. I couldn’t find the humor. “It’s alright, team. We can handle this. Take a breath and think.”
“We… can serve salads. And we have the griddle,” I said. “It’s high school reunion, right? What if we did old cafeteria staples — elevated grilled cheese, maybe some sloppy joes. We can use the microwave for that, can’t we? Grill up some meat?”
Finn looked unsure, shaking his head, but he sighed in agreement that we had to do something. “I’ll pivot, but I need someone to run interference out there.”
I nodded. “I’m on it.”
I swung out of the galley, eyes landing on where Eli was finishing up the bandage on Leah as I smoothed my hands over my black dress and tried to troubleshoot what the hell I was going to do to save this dinner.
I was intercepted before I made it to the deck.
“Ember.” The name came from Brittany, one of the producers, who stepped right in my path. “Can we get a quick reaction shot from you?”
I stopped, blinking rapidly, sure I’d misheard her. “Now?”
“It’s a perfect moment. Things are kind of blowing up and we’d like to capture the raw thoughts going on inside your head at the moment.”
I stared at them.
“Are you out of your mind?” I shoved past her, noticing some commotion on the deck behind her.
“Just one question.”
“I said no.”
The sliding glass doors slid open for me to join the guests on deck — right as another scream rang out.
“Fuck! My ankle!”
The commotion I’d been witnessing from inside was Benny and Jacob nearly fighting. Apparently, one of our camera operators had tried to intervene before things got too serious.
And paid the price for it.