Chapter Six
Every moment? What the hell does he mean by every moment?
Essie made her way to the galley, wondering if Ross knew she’d heard his parting comment, and happily only getting turned around twice, which she attributed to the size of the boat and not her “Ross infatuation.” Freaking Misha. Sure, he would be enjoying every moment. He had a silly chef who mooned over his broad shoulders and smooth handsomeness at every turn. What was there not to enjoy?
Get your crap together, girl. None of her usual emotion-filled, wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve ways. She had to be strong. She’d been burned one too many times by smooth-talking men to take anything they said at more value than playing a game, or playing her. She’d gone on long enough listening to her heart. It was the head’s turn to lead. And as for listening to regions farther south, which seemed to be blaring horns and trumpets when Ross Montgomery was in spitting distance, she was putting that area on mute, as it was not to be relied on for good advice.
When Essie got to the kitchen, Chef Scott was leaning against the counter, arms folded as if he was standing guard over his domain.
She smiled. “Hello, Chef. Once again, I hope you don’t mind me butting in on your domain. I’ll try my best to stay out of your way, but I may ask for a little help from you, as I’m new to finding out what Ross”—Essie paused—“I mean, Mr. Montgomery likes, and I’ve been charged to convert his diet to something a bit more heart healthy.”
She watched as the already-rigid chef drew his body even tighter and stood taller, while plumping his chest out.
“Do you mean to tell me there is something wrong with my food? Are you trying to say there’s something unhealthy about it?”
“Of course not,” Essie soothed. “I’m sure your food is top-notch, or there is no way you would have been hired to be the head chef on such an exclusive boat. I was brought on as a nutritionist and a consultant. My expertise has nothing to do with your capability. Like I was saying, I’m sure there’s plenty I can learn from you.”
“Oh, what do I care about how he spends his money? You are just another in a long line of more of the same.”
Essie bristled, but refused to bite, keeping her smile, but lowering her tone. “You’re right. It is his money, and I suggest you do your job, and start by showing me around the kitchen and pantry properly. I want to be sure the items I listed to be supplied are all accounted for.”
She and Chef Scott stared at each other, and once again Essie was up against a man she knew she could not back down from. But just when she thought he was about to break, a voice came from over her shoulder. “Why are you not moving, Simon? Like you said, it’s my money. What? Are you afraid you may learn something?” Both Essie and the chef turned around at the sound of Ross’s voice.
“I . . . I didn’t mean anything by it, sir,” Chef Scott stammered out.
Ross gave him a steely stare. “Let’s be sure you didn’t, because if you did, I can easily find other ways to spend my money than on your paycheck.”
“Why, yes, sir, of course.”
Essie saw the bloom of embarrassment take over the chef’s face and a hint of anger as he clenched his jaw.
“Ross, really, it’s all fine. Chef Scott and I were having a discussion about working arrangements. This is his kitchen, and he was showing me around.”
Ross shot her a look that was at once caring, but somehow dismissive, and the smile he gave her didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Now, in all actuality it’s my kitchen.” He turned to Chef Scott. “Am I right?”
The chef gave a nod of his head as his eyes went downcast. “That you are, and as you said, I’m sure there’s plenty for me to learn.”
Ross nodded then and smiled. It was that sexy and somehow dangerous smile that made Essie want to step away from him, when, at the same time, she wanted to step forward into his atmosphere.
He clasped his hands together, casually breaking the serious mood. “Well, then, I’ll leave you both to it. Essie, I can’t wait to taste what you have in store for me this afternoon.”
As he left, Chef Scott lowered his hands and let out an audible sigh. Then he shot Essie a look that, while full of disdain, showed his defeat. “You heard the man. This is his boat, his home, and, as of now, it looks like you’re the lady of the house.” He made a wide gesture with his arms. “What’s mine is now yours. So please tell me, how can I be of service to you?”