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“Just for us. Though it’s chartered for up to twelve guests.”
“It’s ridiculously extravagant for two people.”
“Wait to you see the inside, Gemma. You’re going to swoon!” He laughed.
“Are you going to tell me what she’s called now?”
Jason whispered in her ear, “Sublime. She’s called Sublime.”
Her face flushed.
The cold air between them quickly thawed, and she was glad. Gemma didn’t want to start their cruise with the lingering emotions of a Jason punishment.
Chapter 3. The Crew
Opulent, extravagant, and luxurious. Numerous descriptive words entered Gemma’s head. She had boarded a 200-foot long floating palace.
They went through to the main deck and the communal salon, complete with grand piano and gigantic TV screen. Gilded door frames. Shiny glass facades and mirrors. White marble floors. Pearwood finishing. Halogen lights dazzled. Soft furnishings of cream leather or suede. Simple decorative cushions neatly aligned on the upholstery. Glass-topped tables and a tropical fish tank…. Some of the features she had been able to assimilate in the few brief minutes before she was introduced to the assembled crew.
The majority dressed in white shirts and navy shorts. The yacht’s team of officers, in navy trousers and jackets, lapels and cuffs striped according to rank, stood at the head of the line.
Crikey, I’ve joined the Navy.
Jason introduced the man with the most stripes as Captain Mark McKenzie. His Scottish accent was a welcome discovery for Gemma.
“A pleasure to see you, Mrs Lucas.” He shook her hand warmly. “Allow me to introduce the rest of your crew.”
Down the line he went. Chief Officer, Ludo Savage. An American, Gemma guessed from his accent.
Chief Engineer. Gemma heard only Kevin and lost the surname in her head.
“Essential for keeping a boat afloat, Mrs Lucas,” informed Captain McKenzie jovially.
Head Chef Dario, short and very Spanish. He bowed slightly to her. Do not argue with a chef, her mother had told her.
“Señora.” Lips parted to reveal a toothy grin.
“Chief Steward Esteban Soto is in charge of supplying the vessel and providing you with anything you wish. Think of him as the concierge of your voyage. He is also trained in advanced first aid.” Captain McKenzie indicated a middle-aged, slightly balding Spanish man.
“Anything you need, Señora, I will find for you!” he claimed.
There followed the second officer and engineer, a sous-chef and the boson Ted—who was young, British and spoke with a lilting, broad Devonshire accent.
“I help with the motor launches, Mrs Lucas, the Jet Skis, snorkelling, and scuba diving. All the water sports. I’m also responsible for the lifeboats and safety equipment on-board.”
“Hopefully, I won’t be requiring your expertise in launching the lifeboats, Ted.” Gemma shook his hand; his jaw dropped slightly when she smiled.
Two deckhands, Modesto and Gaspar, the boat’s dogsbodies, helping to keep everything spick and span.
The last two in the lineup were a swarthy-skinned couple smartly dressed in black shorts and white T-shirts and, for them, Captain McKenzie stood to one side.
“Enrique, Maria. Delightful to see you both again. It’s been too long,” said Jason with sparkling eyes. They had accompanied him on previous voyages. Her husband had told her no more about their past relationship with him. “My wife.”
She took their hands, each one in turn, with a single, swift shake.
“Señora Lucas.” In Maria’s low voice swam a soup of American and Mexican Spanish, blurred and unique. A pretty woman in her early thirties, dark hair tied back and height equivalent to Gemma’s.
“Maria.” Gemma gave a slight nod of head.
