Page 9 of Hidden Depths
One eyebrow lifted.
"That doesn't sound very convincing."
Before I could answer, another voice floated across the dock.
"Storm!"
A woman with dark auburn hair leaned out of one of the yacht's windows.
"Do we know if anyone has food allergies?"
Storm didn't even turn around.
"No shellfish allergy."
"No gluten."
"No dairy."
"No pineapple."
"No mushrooms."
"No cilantro."
"No olives."
The woman blinked.
"You memorized all thirty-eight guest preference forms?"
Storm finally looked at her.
"You didn't?"
The woman laughed.
"No, Captain."
"I'll print you another copy."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
The woman disappeared back inside, still laughing.
I couldn't help smiling.
Storm noticed.
"My sister Willow."
"The chef?"
"The best on the West Coast."
"Confident."
