Page 13 of Captain's Orders
"Maddie and I are together," she said. "We have been since the charter. It's long-distance for now, but it's serious. She's booking those three nights so we can spend time together, and I didn't want to sneak around behind your back."
Jordan didn't say anything for a moment. She was trying to fit this information into the version of reality she'd had thirty seconds ago, and it didn't fit. Lindsay. And Maddie McDean.Her chef and one of the most recognizable women on the planet. Together.
"The married, famous Maddie McDean?" Jordan asked, because she had to be sure they were talking about the same person. That this wasn't some other Maddie, some normal Maddie who'd been part of one of their other charters.
"Separated. I'm sure you've seen the news about the court case," Lindsay said quietly. "The divorce. It's everywhere. And yes—that Maddie." She straightened in the chair, squaring up to whatever came next. "I know the rules. No personal relationships with charter guests. I knew it when it started and I didn't stop it. I'm not going to sit here and pretend it was an accident or that it just happened. I made a choice." She paused. "But I'm telling you now because I respect you and I respect this crew, and you deserved to hear it from me before she boards." She sighed. "Please don't fire me," she pleaded again. "I really need this job."
Jordan looked at her. Lindsay Brewin was in love. With a global pop star who was currently in the middle of the most publicized divorce case in the entertainment industry. Jordan had absolutely no idea what to say.
"I'm sorry." Lindsay sipped her coffee, waiting for her to reply.
Jordan took a moment. This needed to be handled carefully, and not just for Lindsay's sake.
"Lindsay, I have to ask you something and I need you to hear it without getting defensive." Jordan chose her words carefully. "Are you certain this is serious? On both sides?"
Lindsay's chin lifted. "Yes."
"Because what I don't want—and I'm sorry to be blunt—is for a charter guest to return and find that a member of my crew has developed expectations based on something that might have been?—"
"Captain." Lindsay cut her off, and she was actually laughing. Not the reaction Jordan had anticipated. "She's booking a three-night charter on a hundred-and-twenty-foot yacht just to see me. That's not a casual gesture. Trust me, she's not coming for the snorkeling." She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. "You can ask her yourself. Right now."
"That won't be necessary." Jordan held up a hand. The thought of making a phone call to Maddie McDean at six in the morning to verify whether she was dating her chef was possibly the most absurd scenario she'd faced in her entire career, and not something her training had prepared her for.
Lindsay put the phone away and watched her, waiting. Jordan could see her bracing for the worst—the formal reprimand, the written warning, or the conversation that ended withpack your knives.
She'd broken protocol. Crew did not get involved with guests, but Jordan couldn't lose Lindsay.
She rubbed the back of her neck. "Here's what's going to happen," she said. "Under normal circumstances, this would be a disciplinary matter. You know that."
"I know."
"But this is so bizarre that I honestly don't know what to do." Jordan paused. "So I'm going to ignore the whole matter."
Lindsay stared at her. "Really?"
"Don't make me say it twice." Jordan picked up her coffee. "But before that booking, you and I need to sit down and figure out how we're going to handle it."
Lindsay let out a breath and smiled. "Thank you, Captain. I mean it. I was so worried you'd?—"
"I know."
"—and I couldn't sleep last night thinking about how to?—"
"Lindsay. It's fine. Go make breakfast."
She stood, and before Jordan could react, she wrapped her arms around her. It was fierce and completely against every professional boundary they'd ever maintained, and Jordan didn't know what to do with her hands. She settled for an awkward pat on Lindsay's shoulder blade that probably looked like she was burping an infant.
Lindsay pulled back, eyes shining, and had the good sense to look slightly embarrassed. "Sorry. I just—thank you."
"Go," Jordan said, gesturing toward the door. "Before I change my mind."
Lindsay grabbed her coffee and disappeared down the stairs. Jordan's chef was in a secret relationship with a global pop star. She hadn't even had breakfast and it was already the strangest day of her career. She drained the rest of her coffee and turned back to the chartplotter. At least it had taken her mind off Dani for a while.
9
DANI
Dani was setting the table for a late lunch while Lindsay prepared a spectacular tapas spread consisting of garlic prawns, patatas bravas, grilled octopus, clams in white wine, bacon-wrapped dates, manchego with quince paste, bruschetta, and a half-dozen other dishes. For the kids, she'd made versions shaped like fish and turtles, with little faces made from cherry tomatoes and cucumber slices.
