Page 2 of Falling Overboard

He cut me off, his expression serious. “If I wanted Georgia to be chief stew, she would be. I want you to do it. I know you can rise to the occasion. And I know that the significant salary increase will be welcome.”

My spirits lifted at his declaration. He was right. I was in yachting for one reason—I wanted to go back home and open a bakery in honor of my grandparents. This job paid a ridiculous amount of money, and I had a three-year plan to save up everything I needed to start my own business.

The captain said what my new yearly salary would be and I put a hand over my chest. My salary was going to nearly double.

This could turn my three-year plan into a two-year plan.

I could handle the stress for that kind of cash. “I thought you wanted to have four stews on the ship this season.”

“If we need to hire another junior stew, we can. But we ran just fine with three in the Caribbean.”

He was right. That was how things had been before he brought Emilie on.

As if he somehow sensed what I was thinking, he said, “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Marika. I want you to keep an eye on Emilie. I need you to take responsibility for her and help her.”

I stifled a groan. Emilie was Captain Carl’s niece. She had apparently gotten into quite a bit of trouble back in Canada and her father had shipped her out to join us in hopes that his brother could teach her the value of hard work.

Or, more accurately, so that I could straighten her out and teach her how to work.

The problem was she was the laziest person I’d ever met, and yachting was about working hard for sixteen hours a day, every day.

While Emilie had aggravated me in the past, she hadn’t been my problem.

Now she was.

My anxiety continued to mount despite my best efforts to cram it down and try to ignore it.

I nodded, to indicate that I’d heard and agreed to what he’d said even if I didn’t have any thoughts on how to manage it.

“We’re also getting a new deckhand today, Hunter Smith. He should be arriving soon. You’ll need to order him a uniform. I’d appreciate you keeping an eye on him, too.”

This was brand-new information. I had no idea why we would hire another deckhand. Who would not be in my department—so how did the captain expect me to look out for him, too? That’s what the bosun was for.

“I’ll need you to give him a tour of the boat. And I apologize—you know that I typically try to avoid coed sleeping arrangements, but you’ll be sharing a room with him. I know that I can trust you to follow the rules and not get involved with him. I’m counting on you.”

My mind buzzed with this information. It made sense—my cabin was the only one with an empty bed now that Marika had left. And there was no way to switch things around to get a female bunkmate. We had an uneven number.

I wasn’t too worried about crushing on this new deckhand. Given the nuclear fallout from my last relationship, I couldn’t imagine myself ever dating again.

Realizing that Captain Carl expected some kind of response from me, I swallowed and nodded. “I understand. I’ll take care of it.”

“Good.” He got to his feet and stared down at me. “You know what I say. There is noIin ‘team,’ but there might be aUin ‘failure.’”

He had such high expectations for the way the boat was run, how the guests were served. Marika had met them but I didn’t know if I could do the same.

That buzzing feeling intensified as he left the main salon to return to the bridge.

You can do this,I told myself. It would be okay.

Then my phone beeped. I glanced at it and saw a message from one of my younger sisters.

Short on rent money. Can you send a thousand dollars ASAP?

I let out a shaky breath. It was always something with the twins. They often needed help and cash, and I was the only person left who could help them.

With a sick feeling in my stomach, I sent her the money.

A tiny voice in my head said I was never going to be able to save up enough. There would always be some kind of emergency. Things were not going to work out for me.

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