The Second Chance in the Mediterranean

Three

Three

After Seb stormed out, I spent a few minutes poking around and half-heartedly unpacking. As the head chef, I had my own cabin. Dom’s was probably a mirror image of mine. The two rooms were bigger than most crew cabins were, a privilege of our positions. That being said, my cabin was still tiny, especially when I thought of my childhood bedroom back in my parents’ almond orchard in Italy.

There was a double bed set into an alcove, a big wardrobe, and a small desk. The head was through a doorway, with just enough room to stand in front of the sink in the corner, next to the toilet, and one step away from the shower.

Small, but all mine. I grinned, thinking back to Eik, where I had shared a bunk bed with Elayna and a bathroom with three people. I pulled out my phone, wanting to send a message to the crew of Eik. They knew about Seb, and I desperately needed someone to talk to, someone to ask for advice. But Eik was in French Polynesia, with limited internet connection. Or were they on their way to the Cook Islands already? I didn’t know. I dejectedly tossed my phone onto my bed. I was on my own.

I washed off the stink of traveling in the shower and changed into my uniform, chef’s pants and a crew T-shirt from the neat stack on a shelf in the wardrobe. It should have been easy to crash, but the excitement of arriving and the emotions of seeing Seb had washed away my exhaustion, and I had to force myself to lie down and try to sleep.

At four, Dom knocked on my door. I opened it, feeling a bit better after having gotten a power nap in.

“Ready for your tour?” Dom asked.

“Yes, don’t let me get lost.” I grabbed my chef’s gear off my bed and followed Dom.

Two flights of stairs took us up to the bridge deck. Nerves fluttered in my stomach, and I realized Seb working here was going to be a problem. I was so worried about bumping into him again, and now we’d be stuck on a boat together 24/7. I swallowed, keeping my eyes on Dom. For now, I needed to pay attention to my boss, meet my new coworkers, and try not to get lost in this new maze. I’d deal with Seb later.

Dom turned to face me, walking slowly backward across the deck. “This is the aft of the bridge deck. It’s really a patio for the VIP cabin.” He hooked a thumb to his right, toward closed sliding glass doors. “But it’s also private up here, with a great view down.” He stopped in the hallway. “You should take a look.”

I stepped to my right, toward the stern of the boat, and peered over the rail down onto the main deck. Directly below me was the dining table, and one of the massive masts rose in front of me. Beyond that were a half circle of couches and Themis’s tender at the very edge of the deck.

Dom opened the sliding glass door for me, and I followed him through a guest cabin and into a stairwell. “This is the atrium; the main way guests get down all three flights of stairs. And this”—he pushed open a door—“is the helm, aka my office.”

Black leather, black finishings, black ceilings, and a 180-degree view of the front of Themis. If I thought the yacht looked like a spaceship before, the helm solidified it. This was straight out of Star Trek.

A cluster of people were huddled at one of the electronic pods filled with screens labeled with the B&G logo.

“Ah, this is Antonio, the best B&G technician in the entire Mediterranean—”

“World,” Antonio corrected.

“Sorry, my apologies. Best B&G technician in the world. He’s flown in to help us sort out a communication issue in the NMEA network.”

I didn’t know what the NMEA network was, and when I asked, Dom explained that it was how the electronics communicated with each other.

“And he’s working with two of our crewmates here.” Dom slapped a man on the back. “This is Gio, our first officer, my second in command.”

Gio gave me a wide grin and shook my hand. “Welcome aboard.” As first officer, Gio oversaw the exterior team of deckhands.

Dom leaned in. “Gio is also from Italia, but from Rome. He’s a big Roma fan.”

Gio crossed his arms and leaned back against the edge of the counter. “You are from Campania?”

“Yes, but I am not a big Napoli fan, so I don’t think we have to worry about football rivalries.”

Antonio cleared his throat.

“Ah yes, moving on, this here is Edie, our engineer. Hopefully you shouldn’t have any equipment problems down below, but should you, she’s the one to talk to.”

Edie was petite and about my age, with a pale complexion and bright eyes. The technical side of superyachts, captains, engineers, and the exterior team were typically dominated by men. She was a rarity.

We shook hands. “Pleasure,” said Edie, with a strong British accent.

“Are you a Brit?” I asked.

“That’s right.”

“I studied in London. Whereabouts are you from?”

“Suffolk, but I worked mostly up in Dartmouth.”

“Great, well, nice to meet you both,” I said.

Antonio hacked, and Dom grinned at the old man. “Time to move along, let you fellas get back to work.”

We took the atrium down a flight to the main deck, and Dom led me into a small office space and through another doorway.

“Now we’re starting to get to the good stuff. This is the interior dining area. I’m sure you’ll get pretty comfortable in here, though we usually have our meetings and most meals outside.” The table was a modern monstrosity, massively made with metal, leather, and glass. It was empty, but there were chairs for twelve around it.

“Now, this here is pretty cool.” Dom flipped a hidden switch on the wall, and I heard a whirring noise above me. I looked up to find a window covering opening up like a camera shutter, the spiraled edges pulling back. I could see all the way up through the ceiling, and straight up one of the masts to the clear blue sky.

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “Gorgeous.”

“Just wait till you see it at night.” He pressed the button again to close the oculus. “Then, over here.” He moved to the forward wall of the dining room and pressed another switch. The wall opened, the opaque glass sliding away to reveal a climate-controlled wine cellar. “We have some of the owners’ best collection housed here.”

“Very cool. You mentioned in the interview that the chief stew is a sommelier?” My work prior to Odyssey was strictly in restaurants. I’d worked under Michelin-starred chefs and was hired for private events, but I was not as adept at wine as I was with food. It was especially helpful to me that the chief steward, the crew member who oversaw the stewards in the interior of the boat, specialized in wine.

“Catarina is, yes. She works with the Boyds’ household sommelier, and she’ll work with you, of course, to source wines and stock the boat. Fortunately, here in the Med, we have plenty of sources of excellent wines. There’s another climate-controlled storage downstairs.”

I nodded. Dom continued to show me more hidden panels and cabinets that revealed storage for the stews.

“How ya doin’?” Dom grinned at me.

“I make no guarantees that I won’t get lost.”

He laughed. “It’s not too bad once you get used to it. It’s only three decks, and you won’t be up top much. Dinner service up here, galley and staff quarters down below.”

“Only one flight of stairs—that’s nice.”

Dom barked a laugh. “All the stews love it. Much easier on the legs.”

“My last superyacht was four flights, and once, one of the stews tripped going up the stairs and knocked out two others. They were unhurt, but unfortunately the desserts were trashed.”

Dom winced. “Ah yeah, that’s tough. This is your first run on a sailing superyacht, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Accidents happen a lot more often when we’re sailing. Now, unsurprisingly, most charter guests don’t have any interest in us actually sailing, but occasionally we do. And if the weather’s good, anytime Nat and Justin are in, we go sailing.”

Themis could be rented weekly for an ungodly amount. While I was sure superyacht owners in no way broke even, it helped them offset the costs of their yachts. Almost all superyachts chartered out, and that was where I came in. Feeding the owners, and feeding the guests.

“When are they planning on coming in next?”

“Three weeks. They fly in pretty often, so you’ll get to know them well. And later next month we have the regatta, and they’ll spend a weekend with us.”

“Nice to hear they enjoy their boat often. Remind me about the regatta again?”

“Right, the Boyds’ son, Alex, is a racer. While we do a couple of superyacht races every year with Themis, Alex races much more on smaller craft. Next month is one of those big races. It’s in Malta, and Themis will be a spectator boat for day one, and then we’ll host the awards ceremony the next night.”

“And that’ll be my big test, I’m guessing.”

“Yes. Lots of fancy people to impress, high budget for food and decor. Basically, Natasha and Justin are using it to show off their new chef.” He grinned. “No pressure, hey?”

“I’ve got some time to settle in. I’ll be ready.”

“Good.” Dom nodded approvingly. “Shall we move along to the rest of the crew quarters?”

I followed behind Dom as he opened an inconspicuous door off the dining room. “We’ve got an upper crew lounge here.” It was a small room with a dining booth and minimal counter space.

“It’s basically a service station for the interior dining room and a separate cafeteria to fit all the crew for meals. Then we’ve got stairs down to your domain, the galley.”

I stepped out of the stairwell and immediately to my left was my new galley, immaculate and shiny. I instantly fell in love.