With everyone checked in and other island staff showing the settlers to their new domiciles, I hustle back to the marina to meet the Viridis team so I can escort them into downtown. Émile shuffles off the deck, black scruff and white sunglasses, thick black hair standing in stylish, smooth waves, his usual perfection from head to toe in a black Yohji Yamamoto distressed sweater and draped Buddha pants. He’s successful enough now that he fully embraces the role of chef and restauranteur, allowing his team of underlings to do all the dirty bits while he bosses them around and sips from whatever top-shelf beverage happens to be nearest.
I’m so excited to see him, I can hardly stand it—even if I did have to break about a dozen rules to get his two gas-powered catering trucks on to Thalia Isla
