Nine
I threw myself into my work. This first presentation was an easy one, and relied on freshness and quality. The stews helped us take everything upstairs.
Bok, one of the stews, a petite Korean-born Brit, was doing some last-minute polishing of the silverware. She smiled and greeted us. Clarissa wavered nearby, absentmindedly tidying the service station. Unlike most of the crew, Clarissa was designated for two jobs as a deck stew. While we had no guests, she was part of the exterior team, working with the deckhands. When we did have guests, she worked on the stew side. She fidgeted with her uniform, looking less comfortable in the formal uniform the stews wore, a modest navy dress, than she did in the casual deck uniform.
“Want to go over the menu really quick?”
They both nodded, an
