cooled.
“The figures weren’t good?” Surprise had Jude up on one elbow. “Really?” He looked over his shoulder to find Rob facing in the other direction. “Wow. I thought we might be much closer to being in the black on your spreadsheet.” This was why he left bookkeeping to Lou like Dad used to with their Mum. There must be something he hadn’t factored in that mattered. A mental image of Tom dividing tips left by grateful clients was so clear he could almost hear the rustle of banknotes. “I suppose we will have to pay for more help, once we’re busier.”
They lay quietly for what felt like ages, the sea breaking against the sea wall a rhythmic shush that had Jude’s eyelids lowering as if weighted.
“The figures are fine.”
Jude rolled over to scoot closer at Rob’s quiet answer, his knees fitting behind Rob’s as he slid an arm around his middle, slotting them perfectly together like same-size spoons in a drawer. The skin of Rob’s shoulder was salty where Jude’s lips brushed, too close to sleep to form a real kiss. “We’ll pay you back as soon as we can,” Jude mumbled, so tired that Rob’s whispered reply was dreamlike.
“I really wish you wouldn’t.”
31
The next week reminded Jude so much of being aboard the Aphrodite that he was fooled a few times, stumbling over flagstone floors when he half-expected a wooden deck to rise to meet him. There were echoes of Tom everywhere as well. Jude heard him over and over as Rob instructed their new hires, kind if they messed up but determined, so determined, that they’d meet his high expectations. He steered them in a familiar way Jude had half-forgotten, Rob leading by example as well, using praise as a carrot the new hires willingly followed.
Each day got busier as word spread, the bar full most evenings with what Rob called a soft opening for locals who spilt out to enjoy drinks with a view of the harbour. The restaurant kept Jude busy while Louise tallied their increasing takings, much closer now to a breakeven point that would soon tip them into profit.
Why that bothered Rob, Jude wasn’t certain, but he’d seen him frown at Louise’s spreadsheets too often not to notice.
As had become a habit, Jude stopped midway through grinding spice for that day’s lunch special and went in search of Rob, scooping up that morning’s post from the office as an excuse, this time. He found him on his knees in one of the bathrooms. “And that’s how you clean a toilet. You got it?” he asked one of Susan’s nieces, chuckling as she asked why she couldn’t just swish some bleach around the bowl and call it good. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, before telling her a story much the same as Tom had told Jude when he’d hired him, only instead of explaining rich charter clients’ high expectations, Rob raised a different subject.
“Imagine your auntie Susan just got back from some treatment all the way up in Bristol. She’s tired after sitting on the M5 for hours, and the A30 was atrocious.” The new hire nodded; at least that much she could clearly picture. “She’s absolutely done in, but at least she can have a bath before dinner, wash away the smell of the hospital and feel half-way human.” He breathed in deeply through his nose, and Jude wondered if his trainee knew she mirrored his inhale so completely. “What can you smell?” Rob asked.
“Nothing,” she frowned before adding. “No, I can smell soap.” She sniffed again. “It’s nice. Lavender?”
“Yes.” Rob noticed Jude then. He winked while straightening a fluffy face cloth and bars of the handmade soap they’d purchased together at a farmers’ market first date that seemed months ago rather than weeks. “Anything else?”
“The sea?” She hesitated and then frowned. “And something spicy?”
At that, Rob outright laughed, sweet to her as she blushed to see Jude in the doorway. “That’s because my boyfriend’s hot stuff. You have an excellent nose,” he praised before getting back to his training. “So, the sea and lavender soap, or cheap bleach. What would you rather your auntie smell on her very worst day?”
“I get it,” she said, earnest. And she did, Jude could see in the straightening of her shoulders.
“Good, because every guest could have a story like hers. Now take a photo of this room on your phone, darling”—he looked at his watch—“and then go make the next bathroom look and smell exactly like it.