“What?” I clipped. I wanted so badly to rip my mic off, but knew I couldn’t until I was climbing into bed. It was part of the contract we’d signed.
Every word was up for public consumption.
Currently, there were no camera operators in the mess. But there were still cameras in every corner of the room. I did my best to ignore them, though I was cringing inside knowing every moment of the disaster of a dinner tonight would be broadcast.
My father wouldn’t be disappointed in me — not yet. He always loved when I faced adversity, said it made me tougher.
It would be how I handled this failure that he would judge. It would be what I did next.
Finn exhaled, a long, slow breath through his nose. His arms stayed crossed, muscles tight under his chef’s jacket. He seemed as exhausted as I felt, his hair disheveled and skin dark beneath his eyes. Even with his beard neatly trimmed, he looked wrecked from this hellish day.
“I wanted to apologize.”
I blinked.
That was not what I’d been expecting.
“Oh?”
He nodded, pushing off the table and taking a step toward me. “I know dinner service was a mess. And I know you wereunder a lot of pressure. I didn’t make it easier on you.” His voice was softer, laced with surrender rather than the accusation it had held earlier.
The tension in my shoulders loosened, just a fraction. An apology was the last thing I thought I’d get from Finn, but hearing it now, I felt the sting of the night ease just a little.
But then, the prick kept talking.
“I should have accounted for how long it would take you to clear the plates, and I probably should have assumed you’d be a little slower than I’m used to.”
The crack in the tension sealed back up, steel reinforcing my spine as I folded my arms. “Slower?”
Finn sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just mean I’ve worked with more seasoned stews before. Ones who know when to clear, how to pace things. It’s different when you’re still learning—”
I scoffed. “Right. So I’m the problem.”
His lips pressed together, frustration flickering in his gaze. “That’s not what I said.”
“It’s exactly what you said.” I took a step closer, heat crawling up my throat. “I’m still learning, so I should have expected to slow you down. Never mind the fact that you took so long plating the second course that the guests had finished their wine before they even took their first bite.”
Finn’s nostrils flared. “I was making sure the food was perfect, Ember. That’s my job.”
“And mine is to provide seamless service, but I can’t do that when I don’t know how long you’re going to take! You said it was me who didn’t communicate, but it wasyouwho messed up and then didn’t cue me in on how that would impact the rest of the service. I’m not a mind reader.”
“I gave you estimates—”
“Which were all wrong.”
His jaw ticced, his whole body coiled tight. “You rushed the clear on the fourth course and you know it.”
“Because you threw a fit about me being too slow to clear on the third!”
We were toe to toe now, the heat between us sparking like an exposed wire. My chest heaved with frustration, with exhaustion, with the simmering rage that had been brewing since we first locked eyes at crew arrival. I was pissed at him for dinner service, but I wasn’t too stupid to realize that it was more than just that.
I was pissed at him for being here, for being back in yachting, withher. I was pissed at how we left things, pissed he didn’t try to come after me when that charter ended, pissed he had been living his life just fine and falling in love again while I still couldn’t see through the rubble his love had left me under.
I hated him.
Because I still loved him.
And if two years without him hadn’t cured me of that disease, I wasn’t sure anything ever would.