Veritas Read Free

allergies. Three young boys who are adventurous eaters but do not like anything too spicy. “I do.”
    “Awesome. Well, w hen you’re done unpacking, I’ll show you the pantry. You can dig around in there and the fridge, make notes on whatever it is you’ll need that I haven’t already bought, and then we can go to the farmer’s market in town. There’s a fishmonger I like who always has a stall there, and we can pick up the steaks, chicken, and whatever else you’re going to need from the butcher on the way back to the boat.”
    “Okay,” Lauren said, her brow furrowing slightly.
    Grey forced a smile that was more akin to a grimace, and hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Great. I’ll be on deck, just come on up when you’re ready.”

     
     
     
     
     

Chapter 3
     
     
     
    Standing at the Veritas’ helm, the one place that had been her sanctuary over the last three years, Grey ran her hands through her hair and looked out over the familiar expanse of Charlotte Amalie’s harbor. Now that she was no longer fighting to control herself for appearance’s sake, her hands shook, and she was seriously tempted to fire Lauren before she had prepared a single meal. Grey knew that it was not really an option—there was no way she was even close to being capable of preparing the meals for the next two cruises that Lauren had signed-on for—but that knowledge was not enough to keep her from thinking about it.
    She took a deep breath, held it for five seconds, and then let it go. And then she did it again. And again. Eventually, the regulated breathing calmed her racing heart and eased the shaking in her hands, but it did litt le to stop her mind from spinning.
    The past came back to her in flashbacks. A warm smile. Gentle eyes. Tender touches. Whispers of affection that were laced with so much emotion that her heart would skip a beat. Harsh fluores cent lighting. Beeping Machines. And then nothing. Always nothing.
    If there was one road Grey could not allow herself to travel , it was that one. She knew that time was supposed to heal all wounds, but the gaping hole in her heart was just as all-encompassing as ever, and she had yet to find anything that could make it go away. Drinking herself into a stupor worked to a degree, as did losing herself in the desperate embrace of a woman whose name she never particularly cared to learn, let alone remember, but neither of those coping mechanisms were going to work for her now because she had guests arriving in a few hours and a new chef making herself at home below deck.
    She could not help but be pissed at Lauren’s presence on her boat, and she latched onto that anger as she pulled her phone from her pocket. She did not even have to look at the screen to pull up the number she needed, and she gritted her teeth as the call rang through. She knew that what she was about to do was not at all fair, but she was too upset to care. “You fucking suck,” she greeted her best friend the moment she picked up.
    Kelly Kipling laughed. “Sometimes, yes. But why, exactly, do I suck this time?”
    “Lauren Murphy,” Grey muttered, rolling her eyes and running a frustrated hand through her hair. “You were supposed to find me a goddamn chef for a couple cruises.”
    “And, judging by her résumé, I did. She graduated first in her class from the Culinary Institute of America. From the handful of people I talked to while checking her references, I can tell you that she’s widely regarded as one of the best sous chefs in New York, and everybody is expecting her to be given her own kitchen sooner, rather than later. Her bosses at Clarke’s have nothing but great things to say about her. I found you a better chef than you usually get pillaging the local hotel kitchens—mine included, by the way. She didn’t seem interested in relocating, but she looks so good on paper that I was hoping after a couple weeks down here she might be more open to persuasion. So, what’s the