Chapter 1 #2
I shook my head. George reached behind his chair and pulled out a flat box, handing it over to me. “A tablet and all the necessary items for your use while on board. Excuse me.”
Reaching for his radio, George issued a quick command. “Kayla, Jordan, please head up to the wheelhouse immediately.”
He placed the receiver on his desk as the responses came in.
“Copy that, Captain.”
“Copy.”
George turned to face me again. “Kayla and Jordan are your interior crew. Both are new hires, but they started a week ago, so they can help you navigate your way around. Feel free to set them up as second and third stew as you see fit. Given the size of the ship and the standards for service, please ensure you have a well-executed plan for shifts and breaks.”
“Of course.”
A minute later, a petite blonde woman in her twenties, and a brunet man of similar age entered the wheelhouse.
“Kayla, Jordan, please meet Andrew. He’s the new chief stew.”
I shook hands with both. “Nice to meet y’all. Let me get settled in, and we’ll regroup in the main lounge in half an hour for an overview meeting. Does that work?”
They both nodded, and George dismissed them.
“Again, I’m so sorry about earlier when I mistook Rowan – I mean, Mr. Carter – for a crew member.” My face reddened again.
“No apology required, Andrew. Let’s move on.
” George paused. “As you no doubt have been advised and given Rowan’s past high-profile relationship, the press are still seeking him out.
His time on board this yacht is a necessary decompression.
Occasionally we’ll have floaters nearby who try to get photos.
I’m giving you fair warning to be on the lookout.
His safety and privacy are our top priority. Is that understood?”
Ravi told me that Rowan had dated a UK celebrity, a reality TV host, a few years back, and ever since, he couldn’t go anywhere without being hounded.
I didn’t follow celebrity press, but Ravi had forwarded links for my information.
Let’s just say breaking up with a beloved public figure wasn’t a way to win favor, and the articles had been vicious in their opinions about Rowan Carter, the “billionaire bastard.” Ouch.
“Of course, Captain.”
“A few additional details for your reference. Rowan has asthma and uses an inhaler. He doesn’t have an attack often, but you need to be aware.
Also – and this is to be kept in strictest confidence – he takes medication for high blood pressure.
Your first aid and CPR certification was recently updated? ”
“Yes, two months ago.”
“Excellent. Oh, there’s one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not sure if Ravi advised you, but Rowan sometimes has male guests stay overnight. Usually no longer than a night or a weekend. It’s your job to send them off without any drama. He always has them sign an NDA, so there should be no issues. Questions?”
George looked at me with an expectant expression, and I gave my best smile. “No, sir. I’ve had lots of experience looking after guests, and I treat everyone with total respect.”
“Good. We’ve had experience with homophobic comments from staff on occasion, but it is not tolerated, so they were quickly dealt with.”
I was relieved to hear that since I didn’t hide the fact that I was gay. I’d experienced harassment on previous jobs and had less than supportive managers when it came to resolving the situation. “I’m really glad to hear that you run an inclusive crew, Captain.”
George nodded and grabbed a radio unit and earpiece and passed it to me.
“Guard this with your life. Answer all requests no matter what. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night or if you’re using the bloody loo. Answer. Your. Radio.” His deep voice echoed in the tiny interior.
“Will do. Thank you, Captain.”
I made my way back down to the main level and found the galley kitchen.
Two young women worked in tandem, one measuring and mixing ingredients and the other shaping dough into loaves.
The fragrant smell of garlic, spices, and fresh bread made my stomach rumble.
Knocking gently on the doorframe, I entered and waved.
“Hey, I’m Andrew, the new chief steward. Pleasure to meet y’all.”
“Bonjour and welcome.” The brunette had a French accent. “I’m Lisette, and this is my wife and sous chef, Cassie.”
“A fellow American!” Cassie offered a big smile, her braided red hair tied back with a blue bandana. “Sorry, I’ve got my hands full with this sourdough. It’s great to meet you, Andrew. You’re a southern boy, right?”
“Born and raised in Atlanta. You?”
“Myrtle Beach.”
Some of my nerves ebbed away. “Promise me you’ll make biscuits and gravy at some point. I haven’t been back home in over eight months, and I’m hungering hard for Southern cooking.”
“I totally get it. And don’t worry, I gotcha covered,” she said with a wink. “Have you had lunch? There’s a stack of paninis in the fridge. Help yourself.”
I walked over to the stainless-steel fridge and opened it, grabbing a sandwich from the platter and a bottle of water. Without hesitation, and given my travel hunger, I took a large bite of the panini.
“Oh, my God,” I replied at the first delicious mouthful. “Is this duck?”
Lisette nodded in reply.
“That’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.”
“ De rien , but thank you.” Lisette smiled and waved off my compliment.
I chugged down the rest of my water. “I’m going to do a walk around, get the bar set up, and have a quick chat with Kayla and Jordan. Radio if you need me.” I tapped on the tablet and opened the link from the captain. “I’ll review the guest list and let you know if I have any questions.”
I walked down the narrow hallway toward the stern, the wood flooring cool beneath my bare feet.
The main salon had a sleek bar as well as two sectional sofas and a dining table with twelve chairs.
Everything was done in a minimalist style with lots of white fabric and colourful accents.
I heard the clink of bottles being moved about, but I couldn’t see who was crouched behind the bar, so I leaned over to introduce myself.
A blond head popped up, and I reared back.
Oh God, not again. Why wasn’t Rowan Carter lying around on the sun deck, drinking champagne and eating caviar like a regular billionaire?
“Can I help you, Mr. Carter?” I asked calmly even though my heart felt like it was stuck in my throat.
“I was searching the delivery to ensure we had Markham’s Bay in stock.
It’s one of my client’s favorite brands of gin.
Unfortunately, it looks like the order was forgotten.
Yet again.” Rowan growled as he stood up to his full height, this time thankfully dressed in dark jeans and a navy T-shirt that stretched tight across his broad chest. We were about the same height, and when Rowan’s big blue eyes levelled on me intently, I automatically took a step back. My pulse jumped hard but I ignored it.
First day nerves.
I tapped the tablet, searching the preference sheet and the agenda for today’s travel.
“I’ll call ahead to our provision contact in Grenada and see if we can have it brought on board by tender while the guests are loaded up.
Is there anything else you need, sir?” After this morning’s total fiasco, I was determined to get back into the groove with my usual smooth, confident service.
“Yes, preferably a large number of sedatives to get me through this bloody weekend,” Rowan whispered as he stared at me. “Sorry, nothing else. For now.”
I nodded politely in return just as Rowan’s phone rang. He answered in that smooth, cultured tone and sauntered down the hallway. Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t help but notice the way those slim jeans framed his taut ass. Don’t judge me – any gay man would do the same, boss or not.
Focus, Andrew. Remember Anton.
Just saying the name of my ex put an end to my wayward thoughts right quick.
If I needed sex, there’d be opportunities on shore to scratch my itch.
I wasn’t about to fuck around with anyone I worked with or for.
That was a hard rule that I’d put in place a year ago after my ex, Anton, shattered my heart and left me jobless and homeless.
It was a horrible lesson but one that I would never forget.
But I did have needs, and I’d been neglecting my personal life since I’d been working nonstop for months.
Once I had a day off, I’d head to one of the island resorts for some sexy fun with a stranger.
Until then, and if needed, I’d take another shot from that icy outdoor hose to keep my hormones under control.
So long as Rowan Carter wasn’t the one hosing me down.