“So, it’s a standard kitchen,” Brody explains to me as we step into the U-shaped area. “It’s not the same size as a commercial, but all the appliances are upgraded. I want you to feel at home in here, so if there are any changes or things you’d like to have before we take off, let me know. I can have someone deliver whatever you need.”
I nod, running a hand over the black granite countertops. “It’s really nice.” My eyes sweep across the space—the double oven, the massive fridge and freezer, and the other appliances sitting on the counter. “I don’t think there’s going to be anything else I need.”
“Don’t be afraid to tell me if there is,” he urges, his voice purely professional, but also causing my thighs to clench for some reason.
Ugh.I roll my shoulders and busy myself with opening cabinets and taking mental inventory of everything that’s there, from food processors to the silverware. When I make it to the fridge and freezer, I realize quickly they’re stocked with nearly any ingredient I could ever need.
“We’ll also stop along the way,” Brody continues as I take it all in. “Our first stop will be Atlantic City. We’ll cruise alongthe east coast, and so if there’s ever some sort of emergency, we won’t be too far from land.”
I shut the fridge and look over to him. “Thank you. Where’s the recipe book?”
“Right,” Brody clears his throat, as if I just caughthimoff guard. “Let me show you.” He goes to one of the furthest drawers, clicking and pulling it open. He retrieves a black binder. “I have no idea what Dimitri had in here, but it was what he gave me the ingredient list from. Do with it what you will. You don’t have to follow it though.”
I take the book from him and flip it open, scanning the recipes. Not a single one of them is all that complicated or fancy. I blow out a breath of relief, seeing that his dinner planned for the first night was just chicken fettuccini Alfredo with garlic bread and Caesar salad.
I can do better than this.
“Thank you for this,” I say, shutting the binder. “I appreciate it. Are there any food allergies or preferences?”
Brody shakes his head. “If you make the food, we’ll eat it. Even though we probably come across like total Prima donnas, we’re actually all pretty easy going.”
I let out a light laugh, but I still feel tension in my shoulders. “Okay, well,” I glance at the clock on the wall. “I probably should get started on dinner. Does seven sound like a good time?”
Brody grins. “Sounds perfect to me.” He winks at me, and my stomach does a somersault.
Thankfully, I don’t have to come up with a reply because Brody saunters off toward the other two, who I realize have been watching me the entire time. I take in the sight of the three of them together and wish more than anything that I hadn’t left my phone in my room.
Daisy would’ve eaten this up.
I’m literally going to be trapped on a boat with three handsome men. I can’t decide if this is a total nightmare yet, but at least it’s more interesting than listening to some lady bitch about perfume.
I grab the black book and start flipping through it, searching for something more complicated. IknowI can cook, and when there are directions, it’s all the easier. I finally stop on a Mediterranean stuffed salmon recipe with couscous and vegetable stir fry.
I start the motions of pulling the fresh salmon out of the refrigerator and working through the steps. My hands shake as I set the fish on the counter and grab a knife to slice and stuff it with the spinach, capers, and Greek yogurt.
“Look at her go,” Emmett calls out from the lounge. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“Don’t antagonize her,” Miles grumbles, barely loud enough for me to hear.
I don’t look up from where I’m slicing the fish, already knowing that if I do, I’ll find three sets of eyes focused on me.I didn’t know I was going to be dinner and a fucking show.I try to keep the embarrassment from flooding my cheeks as I miss my cut and slice the fish unevenly.
Get it together, Georgia. Just remember what you learned in school.
“Yeah, she really just doesn’t look like Robert,” Emmett comments, his tone almost husky.
My knuckles grow white on the knife’s handle.
“She’s nothing like Robert,” Brody confirms. “She’s sweeter, more driven, too. I think she has a good head on her shoulders.”
“But she’s a risk taker like her dad,” Miles points out. “She agreed to this trip, and that’s definitely a risk.”
I stuff the spinach inside the salmon and then set the knife down, looking up at the three men. “You do know I can hear you, right?”
Emmett’s mouth breaks into a wide grin. “I was hoping that you could, Georgie. It’s no fun if you don’t hear what we have to say.” His eyes dance across my face, amusement etched in every single line on his face.
“You can just walk over here and punch him in the face, if it’d make you feel better,” Brody grumbles, and shoots Emmett a glare.
“It’s okay,” I say quickly, and then turn back to the fish.
