Page 158 of Knockin' Boats
“Hmm.” I pondered it. “Definitely some truffle-parmesan.” I turned toward Charity, but she was already on the move. She pulled out our pre-cut fries and tossed them in the frier. “And…calamari with a spicy marinara?”
“Sounds great,” Mom said.
Charity pushed into the window space beside me. “Now, Ash, you have to tell your mom what she’s really getting.”
My mom looked confused, and I just rolled my eyes. “Ex-Squid-Site Bites and Nauti Fries.”
Barb cackled. “Well, nowthatsold me,” she said, digging into her purse for a credit card. “I need some naughtiness in my life.”
My mother passed along both their cards with a laugh. “As if you’re not plenty naughty already.”
I turned to throw in a second batch of fries then checked Charity’s progress on the calamari. At this point, she had most my recipes down pat. Not that the real crafting happened here. That took place in the prep kitchen at the resort.
Out here, we mostly fried, heated, and mixed. But they were my recipes, and I cared about every single one.
“Ash?” Mom called.
I turned back to the window. “Can I get anything else? Maybe for Mike?”
Mom thrust a phone in my face. I had to draw back a little to read the screen. It was open to the review site, with a nice selection of new one-star reviews on it.
I grimaced. “You don’t need to worry about those. My food is safe. We had the boat inspected for health and safety. We do everything by the book and?—”
“I’m not worried about that,” Mom cut in. “I know you take this business very seriously. You talk about nothing else when we chat.”
I winced. “Sorry.”
“No, sweetie. It’s wonderful that you’ve found something that makes you so happy.” She waggled the phone. “But this is cyber bullying! Who’s being mean to you?”
I almost laughed. Leave it to Mom to phrase it like I was a kid getting my lunch money stolen.
“I’m handling it,” I said.
“Ash.” Her forehead furrowed. “Maybe I can talk to Rick, and he can send some extra customers your way from his tours. I know that wouldn’t solve everything but?—”
A bitter laugh burst from me.
It startled us both.
Mom stopped short, staring at me. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
I dragged a hand down my face, then leaned as close as I could and said quietly, “It’s Rick.”
“What about Rick?”
“The reviews, Mom. It’s Rick’s doing.”
She shook her head. “No. He wouldn’t.”
Behind her, Barb lowered her sunglasses to exchange a look with her husband, who sat in the captain’s seat. I couldn’t read their expressions, but no doubt, they were friends with Rick too.
“It’s complicated,” I hedged. “I, uh, doubt you want to hear all about it right now. Did you all want anything else to eat?”
“I think we’re good,” Mike said.
Charity rang up the purchases and I returned their credit cards. “Okay, let me finish up in here. Your order should be right out.”
“Wait,” Mom exclaimed, putting a hand on my wrist. “I’ll talk to Rick, but I know he wouldn’t do something like that. This is all a big misunderstanding.”
