The chef’s face broke into a wide, beaming smile. “Luigi is very happy you liked it, signorina. I have brunch prepared for you. We will serve it in the dining room.”
“Oh no. Please don’t bother. I can have it here in the galley.”
Luigi was shocked then protested volubly that a guest could not eat in the galley. Sabrina glanced around the gleaming, state-of-the-art kitchen with its granite countertops. The floor area appeared bigger than her one-room apartment.
“I don’t mind. Good food is good food wherever it’s eaten. Si?” Sabrina feared she might have said too much. Surely this starred chef would not take kindly to his gourmet meals being eaten in a yacht galley.
Chef Luigi studied her for a few seconds, then he nodded emphatically. “You are right, signorina.” He snapped the tip of his fingers, palms up, and flicked his wrists several times, punctuating his sentences. “I do not like pretension in my food, like other chefs do nowadays. If you cook from the heart, there is no need for anything else.” And because he was Italian, he couldn’t help adding, “Just like a beautiful woman does not need anything else, like make-up or jewelry, to make her beautiful. Si?”
“It helps though,” she smiled.
“For you, not necessary,” the chef said with authority.
Sabrina ate her meal of delicious spaghetti carbonara while chef Luigi bustled in the kitchen supervising the inventory of the kitchen supplies. The galley steward who had accompanied Antonia last night flashed her a deferential smile while he inspected the shelves and cabinets.
“Are you preparing for a lot of guests on the yacht?”
“Si. Two days after the wedding, there will be a party onboard. Some of the guests will stay after.”
“Big party?”
“A hundred guests. It is a fundraising party.”
“Fundraising party?”
“Luca’s project.” He shrugged. “Profits will go to charity.”
“Oh.”
He made an irritated tsk tsk sound as he delved into the freezer and spoke to the galley steward in an annoyed tone in Italian. He straightened up, holding a frozen chicken. “You will stay until the party. Si?”
“Oh no,” she shook her head vehemently. “I’m leaving.”
“You’re leaving?” Luigi blustered. His dark eyes widened in alarm. “Does Luca know this?”
“Yes,” she said tremulously, then she lifted her chin firmly, ashamed of acting like a weak ninny. “Yes. He does.”
The chef looked like he wanted to say something more.
Sabrina forced a smile past her lips. “I really should be going.”
She thanked Luigi for the wonderful meal and made her way back to the skylight room. A staff member was cleaning the bathroom. She poked her head out when she heard Sabrina enter.
“Excuse me, signorina. Signora Antonia has asked me to tell you that you have a visitor waiting at the salon.”
“A visitor?”
The woman shrugged and disappeared back into the bathroom.
Sabrina’s heart kicked up. There was only one other person who had reason to see her. Was she finally getting her chance?
She tried to recall the location of the salon. Was it on the main deck? She only had a vague idea of the floor plan of the yacht since Luca had just pulled her into one room after the other. She had been too distracted too care.
She spotted a room at the end of the corridor, bigger than the others. She took a deep breath, pulled on the doorknob of the heavy door, and let herself in.
Sabrina tamped down on the acute disappointment she felt. Her visitor was a Konstantinos alright, but not the one she hoped for.
Eleni Konstantinos had been pacing on the carpeted floor. She stopped midstride and rounded on her when she entered, eyeing her tank top and shorts critically.
“This is not a social call,” the Greek woman said laconically. She was dressed in a fitted midnight blue silk jacket and skirt with matching colored pumps. Her make-up was flawless as usual and her hair was drawn up in a tight chignon, not a strand out of place. She had a fascinator with a black lace veil draped over her face. She looked like she was going to a wedding. Or a funeral.
“I gathered as much.”
“I’ll get straight to the point.” She made a show of glancing at her wristwatch. “I don’t want to miss the ceremony. These things are usually a bore, but one must keep to one’s social obligations.”
“Don’t let me keep you.”
She fixed Sabrina a hard stare for her sass, and it was like looking into a mirror.
She stared back, refusing to be cowed.
Eleni was the first to look away. She opened her handbag and drew out a piece of paper, extending it to her.