My eyes searched his, stomach tightening. “I wish I could have seen it, Finn. I wish I would have been there.”
“You’re here now,” he said, his lips finding mine. “You get to watch me stumble into the next disaster.”
I laughed. “Do you know what that will be?”
“Not quite,” he confessed. “But… I’ve a notion.”
“Care to share?”
“Not yet.”
I pouted, but he dug his fingers into my ribs until I laughed and squealed and rolled onto my back. Then, it was him over me, his hand brushing my hair out of my face as he looked down in reverence. “I’m sad I missed out on these two years of your life, too, you know.”
I shrugged. “Didn’t miss much. Just more of this.” My hands swept out toward the boat.
“You’ve been building your dream,” he countered. “I saw it the first day we were on board. You were a great stew two years ago, but now?” He shook his head. “I can see it, Ember. I understand why you love it so much. It… it just seems effortless from the outside. It seems like you’re really in your element.”
My chest squeezed. “It means a lot to me that you see it the way I do, that you don’t think I’m… I don’t know. Wasting my intelligence by serving others.”
“It takes an incredible human being to provide hospitality with a smile the way you do. It’s not just service; though, you’re excellent at that.” He paused. “It’s an art form. Truly. Cabins, interior, experience, service. It’s like this meticulous dance, and you move with such grace that it looks easy when I know for a fact that it is not.”
“Are you trying to get laid?” I asked, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling his mouth to mine. “Because it’s working.”
He laughed against my lips. “No time for that now, love.”
“The engine room would beg to differ.”
“Aye, well, I’ll not be rushing things the next time I get to touch you.” He spanked the side of my ass, checking the time on his watch before his eyes found me again. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What do you want after we leave this show behind us?”
I let out a heavy sigh. “If you would have asked me that even two weeks ago, I would have said all I wanted was for my father to watch the show and realize I’m making something of myself, that I’m a daughter he can be proud of. But now?” I shook my head. “I think I’ve realized that approval will never come, and I’m okay with that. Because this season has shown me that I’m enough formyself. It’s my life to live — not my father’s. I love this career. I love traveling and meeting interesting peopleand living the yacht life. At least for now,” I added with a shrug. “Who knows what the future will hold. Maybe I’ll end up running a chic restaurant with the best chef in the world.”
I said that last part jokingly, but a part of me tingled with excitement at the thought. It was no secret that I loved dinner service — it was by far my favorite part of running a yacht as chief stew. Part of me wondered if I’d enjoy crafting the experience of a restaurant with Finn, if he’d ever see me as a partner.
What could we build together, now that we weren’t being young and stupid?
The clink of silverware against porcelain was the only sound in the quiet restaurant that night as Captain Gary stood at the head of the long table, champagne flute raised. A slow smile pulled at his sun-wrinkled face as he swept his gaze over the crew — each of us in our civilian clothes, relaxed and glowing under the warm twinkle of string lights overhead.
“Well,” Captain said, voice thick with humor and fatigue. “I can’t say this was the easiest season I’ve ever done. Not by a long shot.” Laughter rippled through the group, a shared acknowledgment of the chaos we’d barely survived. Everyone outside of me and Finn were back to a unified group.
We were the outsiders.
But we were content in that, Finn’s hand holding tight to mine under the table. It didn’t bother us that only Captain Gary included us in the group conversation over dinner. Once he left, we knew we’d be ignored.
That was fine by us.
“I will say, despite the hurdles — and there were plenty — you lot kept the guests happy, kept that old bucket afloat, and put on one hell of a show, whether you meant to or not.” Captain’s grinwidened. “I’m proud of you. All of you. Thanks for not making me fire any of your asses.” He lifted his glass higher. “Cheers to surviving theSinking Sun.”
“Cheers!” we echoed, lifting our glasses high before we drank the crisp bubbles down.
The words landed heavy and sweet in my chest. All day long, I’d been floating in a kind of haze, the way I imagined someone might feel after completing an Ironman race. I felt accomplished and depleted at the same time, proud and exhausted, so high off adrenaline I could fight a tank, and also so bone-deep tired I could sleep for the rest of my life.
We’d made it.
Somehow, some way — bruised, battered, and a little broken — we’d made it.