“Prepare for what?” I ask again, leaving a clueless grin on my face.
Harrison nods at Libby. “I guess you’re right. I just wanted everything to be perfect.”
“It’s a soft launch, so I’m sure he’ll expect a few hiccups,” she answers, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips. “Hey, I’m supposed to be the one who worries, not you.”
“Good point. I’ll try to calm down,” he says.
“Ahem,” I say loudly. “What exactly am I meant to be preparing for?”
“Oh right, sorry,” Harrison says, with a shake of his head as if he suddenly remembers I’m in the room. “Youare about to become the personal chef at Eden Island!”
The pair beam at me while I try to muster a shocked, happy look. “Really?” I ask through a too-wide smile.
“Now, the kitchen leaves a lot to be desired,” Libby says apologetically. “I'm afraid it's rather cramped, and, well, it’s on a houseboat actually. But the good thing is you won’t have any other staff, so it’s not like you'll be bumping into anyone while you're working.”
Umm. What now? No other staff? “I don't get it. I thought the island has a super incredible world-class villa.”
“Oh, it does,” Harrison says. “I can’t wait until you see it. It’s turned out better than we could have hoped. The villa’s equipped with a state-of-the-art kitchen in case some guests prefer to prepare their own food—”
“—or have you prepare it in front of them, you know, for a fun chef’s table experience,” Libby adds excitedly.
“But in order for guests to have a real private island experience, we decided it’s best if the meal prep is done offshore,” Harrison says. “First, we were thinking that we would cook everything here at the resort, but it's a twenty-minute boat ride to Eden, even in theRogue Fun, so there's no way the food would still be at its finest. That's when Libby thought of the houseboat idea.” He gives her a proud stare that makes me want to vomit on his smug flip-flops.
“Are you okay with this?” Libby asks, a worried expression on her face.
“Okaywith it?” I shake my head and wave my hand as though that’s the craziest question I’ve ever heard. The truth is I’msonot okay with it, I could burst into tears. But I won’t because that’s not what my brother needs right now. He needs co-operative, will-do-anything-for-the-family Emma, not whiny, I-want-to-do-what-I-want-to-do Emma. “What's not to be okay with?”
“The whole houseboat thing. We were worried that you’d be looking forward to cooking in a world-class kitchen and bossing people around all day,” Harrison teases.
“Hewas worried about you wanting to boss people around,” Libby says, rolling her eyes.
I bark out a loud laugh. “Ha! Boss people around. No way. That’ssonot me,” I scoff. “I don’t need some fancy kitchen. Just give me a good set of carbon-steel pans and some eggs, and I can whip up a gourmet meal.”
“Thank God, because if you had said no, we’d have been totally screwed,” Libby says.
Shit. I could’ve said no? Why didn’t I say no?!“No, this isbrilliant, really. I’ll be a private chef for two people at a time. Brilliant.” For some unknown reason, I put on a French accent. “Quite a challenge to cater to their every whim.”
“Well, the first two months, it’ll just be the one guest,” Libby says, then quickly adds, “But he’s an incredibly well-connected, famous author, so if you—well,weas a team—can impress him, it’ll really cause Eden to take off.”
“No pressure, though,” Harrison says.
“And don’t worry. We’re not sending you out into the wild alone,” Libby adds. “We’ve hired a lovely couple from Avonia to take care of the housekeeping and butler services. Alfred and Phyllis Willis—you’lllovethem. They’re right out ofDownton Abbey. They worked at Valcourt Palace for a combined total of forty-eight years, so they really know their stuff. Lucky for us, when they retired from the palace, they decided to continue working in a tropical location.”
“Libby snapped them up as soon as they became available,” Harrison says, pulling her in for a shoulder squeeze. “Alfred will serve as butler and take care of any minor maintenance issues that crop up. He’s also a master sommelier, which is a huge bonus.”
“Huge!” Libby beams. “And Phyllis will take care of housekeeping.”
“Oh, terrific. That’s…who doesn’t loveDownton Abbey? This is…great,” I answer. You know what else would be great? A nice cold, stiff drink right about now.
Harrison nods. “It’s a pretty cool setup, actually. Their houseboat is moored next to yours so you can feel secure out there at night—”
“If you decide to stay on the boat, that is,” Libby cuts in. “Alternatively, you could come back to the resort when you finish up with dinner service.”
“But you can sort all that out later. For now, we better get you and some grub over to Eden stat,” Harrison says, clapping his hands together.
He and Libby simultaneously usher me out the door, and I find myself being rushed down the hall toward the back entrance.
The walkie-talkie on Harrison's belt crackles, and Rosy's voice fills the space. “Big Momma to Honey Bear. Come in, Honey Bear. Over.”
