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)
For a long moment, he stared at my hand. When his eyes met mine, I wondered if he felt the same heat buzzing through him that I did from our close proximity.
This was exactly why I’d stayed away from him.
And it was exactly why I couldn’t stay away for long.
Finally, Finn took my hand, though he barely needed my help as he jumped up from the floor. His eyes flicked between mine for a quick second before he clapped his hands, swiping his hat off the floor.
“Right.” Finn’s voice was stronger now, more certain, like he was snapping back to the chef I knew he was.
He tugged his hat back on, adjusted his apron, and turned to the crew like a general before battle.
“We’re scrapping the original main,” he said, rolling his shoulders back. “I want halibut fillets out and thawed now — gently. Palmer, can you handle that?”
Palmer was already moving toward the freezer.
“Em, I want you to prep the sous vide. We’ll do a miso-butter glaze with a charred corn and shishito hash. I want it plated on that black ceramic, minimal garnish.”
I couldn’t fight the smile that spread on my face. “Yes, sir.”
He was alight again, his eyes sparkling a little as he smirked at me and winked.
“Gisella, we’re adding an intermezzo,” he said next, turning to face her. “Grab the cucumbers and fresh mint from the walk-in. Juice the cucumbers and I’ll blitz them with mint and a touch of lime. We need to get it in the freezer fast — we’re doing a cucumber mint granita in the coupe glasses. Ice cold. Clean.”
“And dessert?” I asked, already working on the sous vide. I pulled out the vacuum sealer as Finn handed me spices.
“Lemon olive oil cake,” he answered without hesitation. “We’ll cut rounds and toast them. Mascarpone whip, honey drizzle, thyme. Light, floral. It’ll feel like the Amalfi Coast whispering goodnight.”
The corner of my mouth climbed again, and I shook my head.
I knew he could do it.
Finn clapped once, loudly. “I need all of you if we’re going to make this happen. Let’s move!”
The galley came alive again — knives tapping, burners igniting, steam rising. Each word from Finn was a spark, each movement a gear locking into place. The kitchen was a machine, and he was its heartbeat.
In the chaos, he paused and found me.
His hand reached for mine, rough palm sliding down my arm and over my wrist until he could wrap my hand in his own. He squeezed, his eyes sincere.
“Thank you,” he said. “For reminding me who I am.”
My heart clenched as I squeezed his hand in return.
It was only a second, a quick exchange before Finn broke contact and hustled to jump in on prep. But I stood there a long moment with that touch searing my skin, with his words surrounding me like a cozy, warm blanket on a frigid day.
I exhaled, smoothing my hands over my uniform and taking a moment to get myself together. I knew my cheeks were burning but prayed they weren’t red enough for the cameras to notice.
When I snapped back into action, I glanced toward the walk-in and found Gisella watching me from where she was juicing the cucumbers.
Her gaze narrowed.
And suddenly, the cameras were the least of my worries.
CHARTER CONFESSIONAL
CLOSE QUARTERS
SEASON 4, EPISODE 8
CHARTER 6
CAMERON DUNN: DECKHAND
PRODUCER
Six charters behind you, just three more to go. How are you feeling?
CAMERON
Been better, if I’m honest.
PRODUCER
Oh? Was this charter a particularly rough one?
CAMERON
The charter was sound. Those ladies were a laugh — easy to please, at least on deck. Can’t speak for interior. But they were mad for the water toys, loved the snorkel trip. Especially loved when Eli or I peeled our shirts off.
PRODUCER
So what’s the issue?
Cameron sighs, runs hand through hair.
CAMERON
Aye, fucked it, didn’t I? Snogging Gisella.
PRODUCER
Ah. Having regrets?
CAMERON
I was steaming. Wasn’t thinking. And now Leah won’t even glance my way, let alone speak to me.
PRODUCER
Think it’s over, then? Your boatmance?
CAMERON
I hope not. I need to pull off something epic to win her back. Good thing we’ve got a crew day off coming. Owner’s footing the bill for a full-on catered beach bash. Feels like my shot.
PRODUCER
A crew day off should be fun. I’m sure everyone is excited.
CAMERON
Oh, the vibes are flying already. This is what we live for, innit? We work our arses off for weeks, and then we get one day to go full send — drink like guests, dance like we’re on holiday, pretend we’re not walking HR violations.
Cameron grins.
CAMERON
Problem is, beach days? They always bring trouble. Too much sun, too much rum, not enough clothing… things get messy.
Cameron leans back in chair, shrugs, scratches jaw.
CAMERON
I’ll be focused on Leah. But everyone else… well, let’s just say it should be interesting. Beach days have a way of making bad ideas feel like good ones. You mix sunshine with free booze, and suddenly, everyone forgets the cameras are rolling.