The Latin Affair

Well, she got the food all right. And a lot more than she had bargained for. Or than she was equipped to deal with.

There was no work at any of the cafés. But a harassed woman laden with gaping grocery bags stopped her as she came out of the Golden Lobster.

‘You looking for a job, kid?’

Nicky nodded.

‘I’m cooking for a party on the Calico Jane. I could do with another pair of hands. Just for tonight. Fifty dollars in your hand.’

To Nicky it was a fortune. More than that, it was a lifeline. But she was clear-headed enough to remember that casual labour didn’t have guaranteed hours. By the time she got off work tonight the shops could all be shut

‘Fifty dollars and the left-overs,’ she said firmly.

The woman laughed. ‘No way. This lot are on vintage champagne. You’re not waltzing off with two-hundred-dollar bottles of wine.’

Nicky lifted her chin. ‘No alcohol. Food. I want bread and salad and meat. Oh, and some milk.’

Her prospective employer stared. Then she shrugged, to the imminent danger of her grocery purchases.

‘If that’s what you want. Now take this damned bag and let’s get going.’

Nicky did.

The Calico Jane was in the luxury class. Anyone who chartered her had to be well off. Nicky was used to that. There were plenty of the seriously rich who moored yachts on one Caribbean island or another. She and Ben had crewed for several of them.

But she had never seen anything like the party that greeted her as she climbed aboard Calico Jane

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