Page 10 of His Curvy Castaway Obsession - A Man Who Knows What He Wants

I tell myself that’s the end of it, but it’s left a bad taste in my mouth.

Instinctively, I scan the deck for Zoe, feeling myself relax as soon as I see her.

She’s won over the Bradshaw’s making sensible chit chat while doing her job and I almost feel like this might just work out after all.

Chapter Seven

Zoe

Michael’s right. It’s a simple enough gig, with the caterer being the best, most prepared I’ve worked with, they even have champagnes poured, with a variety of little wine samples to go with each different dish too.

All I have to do is make a circuit of the deck, smile at each guest as they mostly ignore me, helping themselves to more free food and drink, then I scoot back the way I came, wait five to ten, then repeat the performance.

I almost feel guilty about how easy today’s money is, until it sinks in how rich these people actually are. I can overhear enough of their banter to get the general idea. But it takes all sorts, so I tell myself not to judge them, just reminding myself to do my job.

How they can drink this much though… And all this food. I’d be sick in a half hour, they seem to thrive on the stuff…

There is one girl though, I say girl because she looks so much younger than all the others, and she’s putting it away and not eating a thing. She’s nice enough to start, but taking a drink from the tray and downing it in one each time I pass, I can just tell this ones gonna get messy real soon.

Don’t they have like fifteen hours of this? Take it easy girl, you’ll be overboard before you know it, drinking like that…

It’s really only by the time all the guests have arrived that she starts. I can see Michael, closing off the gangway and holding his earpiece as he gives instructions for the other crew and security.

Then I hear her. Starting to mouth off about me to whoever’s nearest her.

“I didn’t know this was a plus sized cruise… couldn’t they get any help that doesn’t look like that, I mean… it’s putting me off my food…”

I feel the sting of hurt from what she’s saying, but I’ve heard worse. What gets me is how someone who’s supposed to be high society, someone who should know better, is acting out like such a jerk.

I choose to ignore her, there really is one of these at every function and it’s easier to just politely navigate my way around them until they wipe themselves out.

I feel I should let Michael know though in case she gets crazy and ruins his function.

He’s the boss after all, I guess.

Making my way over to him, I get a few hands up to have their glasses taken and another needs help getting to the restrooms.

By the time I spot Michael again, he’s looking the other way, scanning the deck for something, someone maybe.

But it’s too late, I get another serving from little miss drunk already.

“Hey! You! Don’t ignore me… I wanna another drink, get your fat ass over here and get me one.”

I see Michael’s head turn, his body tense as he hears her just the same as everybody else does. There’s a moment of silence, but the other guests eventually carry on, I can hear a small group discussing whether Mr. Parker’s onboard after all. The others disagree, he’s never been seen in public or even private, not for years.

I feel my lower lip starting to give out as she yells out again. Normally I’d handle things myself, but with this being Michael’s show, I don’t want to take it too far by overreacting.

“Move it, lard ass!” The girl shouts, and I hear Mrs. Bradshaw gasp as the herd moves away from the blackest sheep on the deck, suddenly on her own in her drunken show.

Michael’s wasting no time in moving through the other guests calmly, making his way straight to drunk Barbie. It’s only when Michael’s near her that I realize how thin she really is. How top heavy her slight frame is weighed down with silicone and what I assume to be genuine bling.

“New money.” One of the guests murmurs, and some of them give me a sympathetic look. Mrs. Bradshaw even pats my arm.

“There, there dear. That nice young man will have a word to her, pay her no mind.”

But it’s too late. I can feel the tears coming. It’s just like college, high school, my whole life all over again really.

Sooner or later it all comes down to it.

I’m just a heavy girl and somebody has to make light of the fact, drunk or not. It feels like everybody looking at me is thinking the same thing anyway.

What’s a fat woman doing serving us anyway…

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