Crew Hates, page 1
Table of Contents
Books by Deana Birch
Title Page
Legal Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademark Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
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Totally Bound Publishing books by Deana Birch
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Force
With Amelia Foster
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Luca’s Lessons
Enemy Territory
CREW HATES
DEANA BIRCH
Crew Hates
ISBN # 978-1-83943-591-1
©Copyright Deana Birch 2022
Cover Art by Claire Siemaszkiewicz ©Copyright April 2022
Interior text design by Claire Siemaszkiewicz
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2022 by Totally Bound Publishing, United Kingdom.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorised copies.
Totally Bound Publishing is an imprint of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.
Enemy Territory
A grumpy first mate and the nosy new girl get a whole new kind of cabin fever.
Emilia Diaz is all ready for her two-week paid work vacation aboard a private yacht in the South of France. With her final year of nursing school ahead of her, she’s putting down her textbooks to be a crew member for a wealthy and extremely private family. Sure, it’s not a real vacation. She has to wash and fold endless towels, constantly trek up and down the stairs and serve the family’s every whim—but it should be fun, right?
Wrong.
From the minute she boards the private jet in Miami, it’s clear. Emmie has a green-eyed, grumpy as hell thorn in her side. Forget small talk. First Mate Nick won’t even talk-talk. But as the two weeks progress and Nick starts to open up, Emmie thinks she might have cracked his cranky shell.
Could crew hate turn into a crew date?
Dedication
For all the romances that started on the job—
mine included.
Trademark Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Polo: PRL USA Holdings Inc.
Crocs: Crocs Inc.
American Express: American Express Company Corporation
Monopoly: Hasbro Inc.
The New Yorker: Advance Magazine Publishers Inc.
Chapter One
Day One
The engine of the private jet blew hot air onto the side of my face as I climbed the steps leading to the cabin. A nervous lump caught in my throat. I’d never been in anything so luxurious and had no idea what the following two weeks would bring. But it’d be the closest thing to a vacation I’d had in years, even if there would be work to do. I straightened my spine and found my confidence. No one wanted a nervous crew member, especially one who was also in charge of all things medical.
At the top of the small stairs, a clean-cut middle-aged male flight attendant greeted me with a tight smile. “Welcome aboard. All the way to the back, please.” He made an arrow with his hand and directed the way. “We’ll be taking off as soon as Mr. Phillips joins us.”
The man moved back to his small makeshift kitchen, and after I muttered a quiet, “Thanks,” I advanced down the center aisle.
As I passed Mrs. Phillips, I remembered rule number one—Never call her ‘ma’am’. With her hands perfectly folded in her lap, she offered a blink and a nod as hello. Her travel attire—a crisp white shirt and light yellow pants—was probably as casual as I would ever see her. When she’d interviewed me for the job, she had worn a beautiful floral dress that reminded me of something a movie star would wear on a talk show. I didn’t understand how everything on her stayed so wrinkle-free.
In the row behind her were what I assumed to be her children and their friends. None of them looked up or acknowledged me as I passed. Right. I was the hired help. Class barrier officially noted.
Past the halfway point, with a little wall on both sides, the seats were smaller and the leg room less forgiving. Two women I didn’t recognize were busy with their own whispered conversation and sat to the left in the first row. Rosa—the Phillips’ cook—whom I did know, sat to the right with her knitting bag plopped in the seat next to her. She glanced at me then returned to her yarn. Behind Rosa was a young man with dark curly hair, asleep and occupying both the seats, his white pants and a navy-blue polo matched my own uniform.
The only free seat was across from the guy sleeping and next to the third member of the private crew. He read by the window and didn’t look up as I slid in and sat down. I’d expected a bit of a cold shoulder from the Phillips family but hadn’t imagined that it would extend to my co-workers. Seriously? Not even a hello, people? I slipped my backpack under the seat in front of me and fought the urge to speak. There seemed to be some un-written rule against doing so. I pressed my lips together, since they were dying to move. I was far from the silent type.
Commotion at the front of the plane grabbed my attention as Mr. Phillips came aboard. He barked into his phone, clearly not pleased with whomever was on the other end, and threw his computer bag into the large leather seat opposite his wife.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about Carl Baker. Get it done!” Mr. Phillips ended his call, threw the phone to meet the bag and loosened his light blue tie. “Imbeciles!” He looked to his wife, and whatever expression she sent back to him softened his stress and made him smile. Then he leaned down, kissed her on the cheek and said, “Just need to talk to Kate, and we can get on our way.” He tugged off his suit jacket, added it to his pile of belongings in the seat and walked toward the back of the plane.
Leaning against the small wall of separation, Mr. Phillips said hello to Rosa then turned his attention to the woman with the short blonde hair in front of me.
“Kate, Carl Baker is opposing the top floor atrium. Can you make it stop? Please? Without ruining our vacation.” His eyes shifted to me. “You must be Emilia.” He reached over the back of Kate’s seat to shake my hand. “Todd Phillips.”
Finally! Someone who speaks!
“Nice to meet you, sir. You can call me Emmie.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He took his hand back. “Nick?”
The guy next to me finally looked up from what he was reading. “Captain.” He nodded hello.
“You all set with the specs?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And sleeping beauty over there.” Mr. Phillips thumbed in the direction of the guy conked out next to me.
“He’ll be fine. Knowing Robbie, he’s probably already dreaming up ways to modify the engines.”
I glanced over to Robbie. His mouth was open, and the position of his head gave him a triple chin. He officially entered the permanent friend zone. I could never find him sexy after seeing him like that—not that I was looking.
“Right. See you in Nice.” Mr. Phillips proceeded back to his seat, sank into it and began a hushed conversation with his wife.
The flight attendant closed the cabin door, and we taxied to the runway. With ten hours of flight time ahead of us, I needed some sort of ice breaker. And with Robbie asleep, that left me with Nick.
“Hi, I’m Emmie.” I smiled and extended my hand.
He looked up at me with olive-green eyes, but they didn’t sparkle. They seared. “I got that.”
Okay.
He was not only unimpressed, but he sounded annoyed. And that was a real shame because with his attention fully on me, I realized how gorgeous he was. Not cute… This guy was properly handsome. He had one of those noses that was strong but not too big and cheekbones women would murder for. He was also tan and had natural highlights in his dark blond hair. He was serious eye candy. Yum.
Despite all signals to stop talking, I pushed on. It was unfortunately my way. “So you’re Nick? What do you do on the boat?” My tone was entirely too cheerful, and his frown only confirmed that he didn’t like it.
“I’m not really interested in small talk.” He turned back to his book.
Before I could help myself, I let out a dramatic scoff. Hottie crewmate was a dick. No, an asshole. My two weeks had just gotten a lot less fun.
“Oh my God,” he said and rolled his eyes.
I looked over to him, confused. I was just trying to be nice.
“Look… Don’t get your knickers in a twist that I don’t want to talk to you. I came here to work, not chit-chat with a nursing student.”
Ouch. Conceited in all the wrong ways, and he knew more about me than I did about him. The number two rule of no fraternizing among crew was going to be a piece of cake.
That didn’t mean I was going to let him have the last word. I let out my inner bitch in a hushed voice while throwing him my own disgusted look. “One, my knickers are not in a twist. Don’t flatter yourself. And two, I was simply trying to get to know a co-worker—which, in retrospect, was an obvious mistake.”
“Whatever.” He shook his head.
I sat, stunned for a long moment before I dug my E-reader out of my bag. I’d promised myself a two-week break from my studies while I worked for the Phillips, and the zombie romance I’d started the night before was just the escape I needed. Plus, it kept me from telling Nick to go to hell. That probably wouldn’t be wise. He and Robbie had obviously worked with the Phillips before, and I was the lowest-ranking employee. Damn it.
The flight attendant came by about an hour after take-off and offered us dinner. “Two vegetarian plates, yes?” He slid our meals onto our trays.
I continued to ignore Nick out of spite. Not eating meat wasn’t going to impress me or let me make the same mistake of trying to talk to him.
The smell of food must have aroused Robbie, who woke up and stretched. He smacked his tongue on the top of his mouth and rubbed his eyes.
“Dinner, sir?” the attendant asked.
“Yeah. That’d be great.”
Robbie turned to me and stretched out his hand. “I’m Robbie. You must be Emilia.”
“Emmie. Nice to meet you.” Please let this one be a talker.
Robbie unrolled his silverware and placed the linen napkin on his lap. “So, you’re a nursing student?”
“Yeah. Seems like you all know about me, but other than Rosa, I don’t know anything about the rest of you.”
“Mrs. Phillips— you know never to call her ‘ma’am,’ right?” He narrowed an eye.
I nodded. Rosa’s granddaughter, a fellow nursing student who had gotten me the job, had made that very clear.
Robbie continued, “She told us about you.” He gave me a warm smile. Phew.
The flight attendant was back with Robbie’s dinner and handed us all extra bottles of water. Nick kept to himself, which was fine by me. I had a new friend in Robbie.
“It’s my first time as a crew member, so I’m not sure what everybody else does.”
Robbie swallowed. “Mr. Phillips is the captain, and Nick is the first mate. I’m the engineer, so I handle all the technical parts of the yacht. Rosa cooks and takes care of the Phillips’ room. I assume you know what you do.”
“Clean, serve and make dry martinis.” I winked.
“Easiest five G’s you’ll ever make.”
When we’d finished our meals, Nick leaned against the side of the plane and closed his eyes. Robbie did the same, and I fluctuated in and out of consciousness. I knew I needed to get some shut-eye, the next day would be busy, but the curiosity of what lay ahead got the best of me.
My new colleagues entered my thoughts. Robbie would be easy to get along with, but if Nick was going to be cold for two weeks, it would be annoying—especially since we would be on a boat, in the Mediterranean, with no escape. It’s not like I would be able to talk to my employers. With boredom as my only companion, I eventually followed the lead of the rest of the passengers and drifted off.
Chapter Two
Day Two
A bump woke me as we landed in France. I was happy to have slept but mortified by my position. My head was nuzzled into Nick’s shoulder, and my right arm had somehow hooked into his left. I prayed to Saint Agatha for him not to be awake. Backing away slowly from his upper body, which had a faint smell of mint, I dared to open my eyes.
“Sleep well?” he asked without a smile.
Still smug. At least he was consistent.
I looked to the spot where my head had just been and was slightly less mortified. Thank all things in heaven, I hadn’t drooled on him.
“Sorry.” I winced and undid my ponytail, smoothed my wild hair back in place and re-attached it. Then I turned to Robbie. “Morning!”
“Bonjour!” Robbie said with an accent that could start a war from its brutality.
As the plane taxied, Mrs. Phillips rose and strode to the back. Even Rosa sat a little straighter in our employer’s presence. Nothing about her clothes, makeup or hair hinted that she had spent the night on an airplane. What was it with her and no wrinkles?
“Good morning.” Her lips were tight, revealing nothing about her sentiments. “Rosa, Mr. Phillips will accompany you and the rest of the crew directly to the yacht. The groceries should already be on board, so please make sure you have everything you need for the next two days. Nicholas, please give Emilia the full tour. Emilia, once you’ve finished the tour, you may begin to unpack for the girls, Cameron and Landry. Robert…” She brushed her hand in Robbie’s direction. “Just do what you do.” With that, she spun around and charged back to her seat.
I quickly ate the croissant that Robbie had saved for me and slammed the rest of my water. I needed my toothbrush but there didn’t seem to be enough time, as the plane was already coming to a stop.
I gathered my bag and stood, following Robbie’s lead. Kate and her friend stayed seated, and I overheard her say that they were flying on to Budapest. Lucky.
Upon exiting, the bright sun of Southern France temporarily blinded me. On the windy tarmac, two cars and a van waited for us, along with an official to check our passports. With our paperwork in order, Mrs. Phillips and the two girls climbed into one car and drove off. Cameron Phillips and his fiancée—who Robbie whispered to me was named Landry—slid into the back of another. Mr. Phillips, now wearing a more casual look of khakis, a pink polo and a green sweater knotted around his shoulders, entered the passenger seat of the van.
After loading the final piece of luggage in the back, my crewmates and I moved to the sliding door to hop in.
Rosa sat in the first row, and Robbie slid in next to her. He kissed her on the cheek and said, “Rosa, I’ve been dreaming about your Cuban chicken for twelve months. Please tell me it’s on the menu.”
She patted him on the thigh and said, “For you, my baby Robbie, of course.”
I ducked my head and crawled to the back of the van, having to climb on all fours once I hit the bench. Nick followed right behind me, and I tried not to acknowledge that my ass was in his face as I maneuvered my way to the other side. But then again, my Puerto Rican blood came with fantastic curves, and I knew what my bubble butt could do to a man. So I held it a beat and let ‘Mr. I’m-not-interested-in-chit-chat-with-a-nursing-student’ eat his heart out.
I found my place, gave him a smile and with my eyes said, Yeah, that’s right. That was my amazing ass, and you will never, ever get to know it.
But he just looked away, uninterested. If he hadn’t been so good-looking, there would have been nothing appealing about him.
