Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
It didn’t matter that every course was beautiful, delicious, and made with every single one of Theodora’s restrictions in mind.
The guests were tired.
I was frustrated.
And Finn? Finn was pissed.
All niceties between us disappeared after the third course, both of us taking to snipping at one another or not talking at all. It was almost impossible for me to recall his little speech of encouragement before dinner started now, and if anything, it felt patronizing.
“You’ve got to talk to me, Ember,” Finn said as he smeared a perfect swoop of sauce onto the dessert plates, jaw tight. Only the stainless-steel island separated us, me on one side and him on the other. “You didn’t even give me a heads up that you’d cleared after the main.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I snapped back, tension coiled in every muscle from my shoulders to my toes. “Was I supposed to let the guests sit there staring at dirty porcelain just so you could leisurely finish plating coconut-kefir sorbet?”
Finn’s hand stilled mid-reach for a garnish, his eyes snapping to mine. “Leisurely?”
“Painstakingly slow? Torturously delayed? Or maybe you were planting, watering, growing and harvesting those edible flowers that were so important?”
He snarled, and the sound did more to my nether regions than I would ever admit to anyone — most of all the peanut gallery standing around us enjoying the show.
“Did you want the food to actually look like something? Or should I have just slapped it on the plate and called it rustic?”
“I wanted it to be on the table before they started drafting their wills, Finn.”
Behind me, I heard Eli let out the quietest oof. No one else spoke. No one moved. I’d sent Leah to bed after the second course, Gisella stepping in to help when needed, and she stood next to Eli now as he pretended to be focused on doing dishes and she waited for my cue.
Finn exhaled sharply through his nose. “Maybe if you’d been communicating—”
“I was too busy making sure the guests didn’t start gnawing on the table linens while you were in here playing Picasso with the reductions to communicate.” I folded my arms over my chest, leaning into his space. It was only an inch, but I swore that inch ignited the air between us like a match to a gas leak. “And besides, you were the one who yelled at us for not clearing fast enough. So which is it, Finn? Too fast or not fast enough?”
Finn wiped his hands on his towel, nose flaring. “You have no clue what goes into plating at this level.”
“And you have no clue what goes into serving at this level.”
The tension in the galley was thick, charged, and the rest of the crew was watching it like a live-action soap opera. Bernard had given up trying to look busy or checking on the guests — who had told him three times now that no one wanted anything else to drink. He was looking at his nails, biting back a smile and glancing over at Gisella with a this is juicy expression in his eyes when he thought I wasn’t looking.
And the cameras rolled on, catching every single second.
Finn clenched his jaw, grabbing the last of the garnishes and throwing them onto the plates with a little more flourish than necessary. “They’re ready,” he bit out.
“Great.”
“Great.”
Bernard and Gisella grabbed plates with me without needing to be told, both of them wide-eyed. I thought I saw Gisella give Finn a sympathetic tilt of her lips, but I stormed out of the galley before I could be sure. With a shake of my shoulders, I allowed myself one frustrated breath low in my throat before I plastered on that service smile.
And then I finished my job, somehow managing to save the night by regaling the guests with a story from the Bahamas while our chef threw his temper tantrum in the galley.
CHARTER CONFESSIONAL
CLOSE QUARTERS
SEASON 4, EPISODE 1
CHARTER 1
CAMERON DUNN: DECKHAND
PRODUCER
How are the sleeping arrangements? Like your roommate?
CAMERON
Aye, Eli’s sound. We’re both here for a laugh, so the energy’s bang on. It’s brutal when you get stuck with a dry shite, but with Eli, I know we’ll make the most of the season. As for sleeping… well, it’s easier when there’s not a full-blown scrap happening in the crew mess, aye?
PRODUCER
A little too loud to ignore?
CAMERON
Are you kidding? I could hear every word of Ember eviscerating Finn. Poor guy.
PRODUCER
Can you give us a reaction we can use? Maybe tell us that they woke you up and then show us how you would have reacted had you been in the mess.
CAMERON
I had morning shift, so Palm sent me down to sleep pretty early. But then I woke up around midnight to the sound of voices. I think they thought they were being quiet but… aye, no. They were not.