Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 98226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Dinner was many things — most of all loud.
One of the benefits of dating Joel, an extrovert who could have a riveting conversation with a brick wall, was that when we attended big group events like this, he took over. He was always the animated one, telling stories, making jokes, while I could sit beside him and smile and laugh at the appropriate times and chime in now and then until the whole ordeal was over. I much preferred hanging out in groups of four or less. After that, it all became too… much.
It was the same tonight, Joel holding the table captive with his charm, but I learned quickly that he wasn’t the only center of attention at this table. It seemed nearly every member of the crew had an outgoing personality, save for Wayland and the engineers, who were all at the far end of the table having a quiet conversation amongst themselves. But the head chef, Claude, and his partner in crime, Adeline, were loud and vivacious. Their stories were as rich as the food they’d prepared for us.
It was interesting, the way it all worked. Usually, the crew would be behind the scenes, making and serving dinner and then disappearing below deck to have their own meals. But tonight, Mr. Whitman had them all seated together as equals. I found it admirable that he would do that for his crew.
Still, the dinner had to be made and served, so the crew ate and drank and enjoyed dinner as much as they were up and down from the table, taking care of the next course or, in the stews’ cases, picking up plates and serving the next.
Mr. Whitman sat at the head of the table, directly to my right, with only Joel sitting between us. He was as charming as his crew, filling the hours of dinner with stories from his own travels and experiences on boats. He took a small amount of time to go over what he expected from his crew on this trip, where they’d be going, what kind of guests would be joining from time to time — which Joel informed me was rare. Apparently, it was usually the captain who would cover all of that.
Still, for the most part, Mr. Whitman sat back and ate his food and drank his scotch quietly, smiling as he listened to the crew.
More than once, I felt the heat of his gaze on me.
Fortunately, I’d learned my lesson from earlier. Unless he was speaking, I didn’t dare cast so much as a glance in Mr. Whitman’s direction. I kept my focus on Joel, or whoever was speaking, or my food.
Not much longer now, and I’ll be out of here…
Dessert was served, and I was already feeling lighter, more jubilant at the fact that I had nearly escaped dinner unscathed. But then, after a loud roar of laughter from a story Joel had told, Mr. Whitman dipped his spoon into the crème brûlée and asked, “And what about you, Miss Dawn?”
I paused mid-bite, a spoonful of creme and caramelized sugar floating in the air as my cheeks instantly flushed. Every head at the table had turned, all eyes focused on me, and I wanted to shrivel up and die on the spot.
I cleared my throat, putting the spoon back in the dainty dessert dish to save myself from dropping it on the table. “What about me, Mr. Whitman?”
“Please, it’s Theo,” he said with a smile. Then, those chromatic eyes caught a glimmer of the chandelier as they stared at me so unapologetically it unnerved me in every way. “What will you do this summer, while Joel is onboard with us?”
Joel squeezed my knee under the table encouragingly. He knew how uncomfortable it made me to have the attention on me like that, but the way he smiled at me told me it was important to him that I make a good impression.
I managed a shaky smile. “Well, I’m going to do some traveling of my own, actually. Spain, France, Italy, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, the Netherlands… I’m not exactly sure where I’ll end up yet, honestly — depends on where I can find work. But I want to travel and see new cultures.” I paused. “Mostly through the lens of my camera.”
There was something murmured down the table, and a few soft giggles had my neck heating. I picked up my spoon again, hoping the moment was over, but Theo only grabbed his scotch and leaned in closer.
“You’re good,” he said, and that had everyone’s heads swiveling again. “The photos you showed me today… they were stunning.”
I shook my head. “I was just playing around, killing some time. The lighting wasn’t the best…”
“You don’t have to be modest, Miss Dawn,” he said, and the way he stared at me made it impossible to look away.