“You’re late.”
“I’m always late.”
“And I ought to fire you for it.”
I shrug. He wouldn’t dare.
Xav braces the rail and sighs. “Get your ass in the crew mess and greet your team.”
“Do I have to?”
“I think you ought to see what you’ll be dealing with this season.”
“I don’t understand why you continually hire greenies.”
“It got you a job,” he says. “Not all my new hires are green this season.”
“Yeah, yeah. Like I said, just one more person’s drama to manage.”
“I suggest you toss that attitude overboard before you get down there.”
“I can’t lose something that is my very essence, Xav.” He raises his eyebrows in warning. “Fine, fine, I’m going.”
Laundry and to-do lists crowd my mind as I make my way throughthe main salon. My phone buzzes in my pocket when I reach the staircase that leads belowdeck.Ollie, I think. He doesn’t always reply so soon. Late nights at the restaurant mean he usually sleeps during the day. I push my sunglasses on top of my head and fish my phone from my pocket.
Sure enough, the text is from Ollie. But it’s not what I expect.
I won’t.
My excitement at the sight of his name on my phone flickers out like the candles I light whenever we have a proposal on board. I always end up running around in circles, one candle blinking out just as I’ve lit another. It’s exhausting. What do I care if Ollie misses me or not? I’ve been begging him to move on for years. Maybe he’s decided to listen to me for once.
It shouldn’t bother me. Itdoesn’tbother me.
Except it definitely does.
I shove my phone away without replying and continue belowdeck. Every year I strive to be the last crew member to board the yacht on the day we set sail. It’s atypical for a chief stew and drives Xav crazy, but I have my reasons. I like to give the crew time to get to know one another before I arrive and ruin all the fun. Once I get down these steps, I will no longer be fun Off-the-Boat Nina. I’ll be Boss Nina, No-Nonsense Nina. The Nina you love to bitch about on your break.
The crew mess is bustling with activity as everyone waits for Xav to start the all-crew meeting that will kick off the season. RJ sits at the table beside Simon, a South African man who’s worked as a deckhand the last few seasons. Watching them from the other side of the table is a woman I don’t recognize, but who must be Eglé, our new deckhand from Lithuania, if her toned biceps are any indication.
Britt stands beside the counter, talking animatedly with a young Black woman with a shaved head and a white woman with carrot-colored hair wrapped around her head in intricate milkmaid braids. My new stewardesses. I scan the crew mess and tally everyone up.Someone’s missing, but I’m too tired to figure out who. Coffee. I’m going to need a lot more of it to get through sailing, and introductions, and showing my new stews around.
I try sneaking behind Britt to the coffee maker without being noticed. But I’ve never had great luck when it comes to avoiding conversations I’d rather not have, so of course Britt spots me right away.
“Nina! You’re here!” she squeals. She acts as if she hasn’t seen me in ages, though we worked together only a few days ago.
I toss Britt her famously overused jazz hands. “Surprise,” I say.
Britt turns to the two women standing beside her. “This is Nina, our chief stew. She looks mean, but it’s just resting bitch face. She’s actually really nice.”
“I don’t have resting bitch face. I really am a bitch,” I say. “Especially when I don’t get my coffee.”
It’s not a joke, but everyone laughs anyway.
“Alyssa,” says the woman with carrot-colored hair.
“You worked on an eighty-footer before, right?” I say.
“Correct,” Alyssa says. “I’ve been chief stew on theWhy Knotfor the last six years.”
