Roger narrowed his eyes. “People don’t want to hear about goddamn TV shows on an architectural cruise.”
“Yes, sir,” Grant replied dutifully.
“And the Spire?” Roger asked. “That’s the end of the cruise. Were you still doing okay by then? What did you say about the Spire?”
Sophie suppressed a smile, but Grant squirmed nervously.
Grant’s blush deepened in color. “I don’t really remember, sir.”
“What do you mean you don’t remember?”
“I, um, had some tequila.”
His eyes bugged out. “You were drinking? You were driving the ship drunk?”
“Tommy was driving the ship, sir.”
“Well, thank God for Tommy, then! But you still broke all kinds of watercraft regulations. If the Chicago PD had boarded the ship, we’d all be in a shitload of trouble!”
“It was my fault, Rog,” Sophie interjected. “I gave him the tequila to calm his nerves.”
“Did they teach you that maneuver in shrink school?”
Sophie looked down. “No.”
“It wasn’t her fault,” Grant said. “She gave me one shot of tequila because I was nervous about taking your place, but I was the one who kept drinking.”
“How much did you have, you idiot?”
Grant continued to fidget, feeling helplessly guilty for all the trouble he had caused. “Around ten shots.”
“Ten? And you don’t drink! No wonder you look like shit,” Roger grumbled under his breath as Sophie and Grant exchanged desperate glances. “I shoulda known better than to hire two parolees, goddamn it. You two are no good for each other, you hear? Madsen was doing just fine until you showed up, Taylor. I should fire both your asses.”
Grant inhaled sharply. “Please, Rog, don’t fire Sophie. I’m the one who screwed up.” He felt panic rising in his chest at the thought of returning to prison.
Sophie watched Grant fall on the sword for her with a sense of wonder and gratitude.
“You sure as hell did screw up!” Roger hollered. “Here I am stuck in this fucking hospital, hoping you two could keep my business afloat—that’s all I asked—and I come to find out you’re drinking on the job? You think this cruise is some sort of joke or something? I worked my ass off to buy that ship! You’re not going to tear it all down with one night of partying. Joe will not be pleased with you, Madsen, when he finds out you couldn’t hold down this one simple job.”
Sophie suddenly flashed with anger and words tumbled out of her mouth. “You’re being so unfair, Rog! You left us both in the lurch when you had your heart attack. Granted, it’s not like you asked for it, but we did you a favor by taking over your business, and now you’re yelling at us? Now you’re threatening to fire us? I’ll have you know that Grant did an incredible job at the mic. The customers absolutely loved him, and his commentary … well, it was even better than yours!”
Grant’s eyes widened, and he tried to gauge Rog’s reaction. Sophie calmed down to realize she had just insulted her boss, the one man who could keep her out of prison. She swallowed hard.
But Roger began chuckling, slowly shaking his head. “You got balls, Taylor. Swear to God, you two make quite a pair. Who wears the pants in this relationship, Madsen? You got a live one here. She’s going to be tough to handle.”
Glancing at Sophie, Grant felt strengthened by the intensity flaring in her shiny chestnut eyes. She would fight for him, he now knew. And he wanted to fight for her in turn.
“I don’t need to handle her, Rog,” Grant informed him with a twinge of disgust. “She takes care of herself quite all right all on her own. But it looks like you’re going to be stuck here for a while, and you have nobody to run your cruises today except for us. Sophie and I make a good team, and I promise I’ll do a better job. I’m never going to drink again, I tell you. It’s vile.”
Roger remained silent, so Grant added, “Give us another chance, sir. We won’t disappoint you.”
Stroking his chin, Roger conceded, “If you run the ship today, you will return tonight to tell me how all four cruises went, in detail. None of this ‘I can’t remember’ bullshit.”
“You got it, Rog. Your business is in good hands.”
“Let’s not exaggerate, Madsen. You’re on toilet duty when I finally get out of this fucking hospital.”
“Mr. Eaton?” a voice called from the doorway, breaking the tension.
A young blond woman entered the room. She was thin and petite, with big blue eyes and rosy cheeks. “I’m Jodi Roman, your dietitian.” She smiled as she wheeled her cart toward the bed.
Roger raised his eyebrows, gaping at the human Barbie now standing by his bedside. “Dietitian?”
“That’s right. We’re going to get you started on a healthy diet to prevent another myocardial infarction. Would you like to introduce me to your friends here? Are these your children?”
Roger’s body shook with laughter for quite a while before he could respond. “Hardly! These are my employees.” He shot a stern glance toward them both. “Well, they’re my employees for now, anyway.”
“Great!” Her reply was bubbly. “They can help you make smart food choices at work.” She turned to the plastic cart and extracted a piece of plastic broccoli. “These are my food models.”
“What the hell does that plastic crap have to do with my heart?” Roger growled.
“Let me explain,” she said, pulling up a chair. “You had a blockage in your artery that caused a heart attack. Do you know what caused the blockage?”
“I’m the captain of a ship, not some fucking heart doctor,” he rumbled.
“I see. You’re a sailor, then,” said Jodi, not missing a beat. “Let me ask you this, do you have any hoses on board your ship?”
“Yeah, we got a hose that pumps water out from the galley if necessary,” he replied, trying to keep it simple for Barbie.
“And does that hose ever get clogged?”
“Sure,” he replied. “Brine, barnacles, all kinds of shit can get in there and clog it up.” Roger turned to Grant. “By the way, check on the filter system today, Madsen.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Well,” Jodi resumed her analogy. “Your heart artery got clogged just like that hose. And what clogged it was fatty cells called plaque. A clogged artery is not good, Mr. Eaton. If you have another heart attack, you could die.”
Roger sat quietly with a frown on his face. Grant was pleased to see him shut up and listen for once.
“Hardening of the arteries is partly due to genetics. Do you have any family history of heart disease?”
“I don’t think so.”
“The buildup of plaque is also related to your diet. Do you know which foods should be eaten only sparingly because they are not heart healthy?”
Roger had a good idea but he was too pissed off to answer.
“Deep dish pizza?” Grant offered, and Roger shot him the stare of death.
“Yes!” Jodi replied. “Cheese, red meat, fried foods, cream sauces …”