odor gusted from the pier. The Hudson River looked gray and choppy, and crests of foam rode the mini swells. “Big boats never make me sick.”
“ Will you be alright?”
“ I’m fine.” He’d left his motion pills on the counter at home. He’d have to rough it.
“ Do you want to stay ashore?”
He forced a pleasant expression. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Pulsating music greeted them as they boarded ship. Jerry disliked loud music and blinked his eyes, barring against the sonic assault. Millionaires churned to a familiar dance tune. They dressed in evening attire. Some were studded in diamonds and gold, as champagne and cocktails drifted past. One man draped his arms around two women. Another staggered from the crowd without shoes. It was two-thirty in the afternoon.
Jerry paused before the extraordinary scene. It was another example of what he’d learned about lottery winners. They owned no sense of time. They weren’t bluebloods or corporate raiders with eminent careers and estates to manage. The men and women assembled on the Manhattan Cruiser were dislodged from routine, roaming the planet without a firm agenda. Jerry’s buddies on the assembly line used to fantasize about this kind of free time—days filled with nothing better to do than fish, watch ballgames, or hang out in bars—an endless blue collar weekend, only this version had black ties and caviar.
Chelsea’s feet moved in a half-strut, already picking up the beat. “This is what I call a party.”
Jerry held his tongue. This is what I call an excuse to leave .
“ I’m going in.” She sashayed into the crowd, a flurry of blonde perfection.
He watched her head bob to the music. Men twisted their necks to check her out. They noticed the line of her stockings over her calves and the shape of her tight ass tugging beneath her skirt. He considered joining her on the floor but didn’t picture himself inside her halo of glory.
The boat jarred loose from its moorings and coupled with the choppy water. Jerry recovered his balance with a quick sidestep. The stilted peeks of the skyline rolled through the oval portal windows. He felt a twinge in his gut. He grabbed the studded steel post, which supported the upper deck.
Someone was watching. Jerry noticed a man at the next steel post. The stranger came forward. He had short-cropped hair and a pointed nose. He wore a black turtleneck, a tweed sport coat, and precisely creased pants. He dressed like one of the catalogs Chelsea kept flashing in Jerry’s face.
Jerry waited to engage the stranger. He’d have to speak with someone at this shindig. He pivoted toward the dance floor to catch Chelsea’s eye. He was being a good husband, meeting the other guests, but she was mixing it up herself. She wove in a chain of dancers around the edge of the floor. A man with glasses clutched her hips. He whispered in her ear, and she laughed hysterically.
The man with the short hair held his gaze upon Jerry. “Your first time?”
Jerry prepared for small talk and a quick retreat to the outside railing. “Yes.”
“ You look new.”
Jerry checked his watch. “When do we get back to the dock?”
“ I’m with you. This is a bore.”
“ I didn’t say that.” Jerry knew he was blowing it. He better summon some charm and pretend he was having a good time. “This is nice.”
“ This isn’t my idea of a party. I come because it keeps me in touch. I get to see who’s who.”
“ So who’s who?” Jerry thought he recognized celebrities.
“ That’s a good question.”
“ So what’s the answer?”
“ This party’s not for our benefit.” The man pointed out the camera crew standing beside the bandstand. “It’s a promo for Super Pick Millions. Haven’t you seen the commercials?”
“ I think so.”
“ Life’s a non-stop party once you win. That’s what they’re selling.” The man looked to the dance floor. Heads shook with the music. Chelsea
“ Will you be alright?”
“ I’m fine.” He’d left his motion pills on the counter at home. He’d have to rough it.
“ Do you want to stay ashore?”
He forced a pleasant expression. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Pulsating music greeted them as they boarded ship. Jerry disliked loud music and blinked his eyes, barring against the sonic assault. Millionaires churned to a familiar dance tune. They dressed in evening attire. Some were studded in diamonds and gold, as champagne and cocktails drifted past. One man draped his arms around two women. Another staggered from the crowd without shoes. It was two-thirty in the afternoon.
Jerry paused before the extraordinary scene. It was another example of what he’d learned about lottery winners. They owned no sense of time. They weren’t bluebloods or corporate raiders with eminent careers and estates to manage. The men and women assembled on the Manhattan Cruiser were dislodged from routine, roaming the planet without a firm agenda. Jerry’s buddies on the assembly line used to fantasize about this kind of free time—days filled with nothing better to do than fish, watch ballgames, or hang out in bars—an endless blue collar weekend, only this version had black ties and caviar.
Chelsea’s feet moved in a half-strut, already picking up the beat. “This is what I call a party.”
Jerry held his tongue. This is what I call an excuse to leave .
“ I’m going in.” She sashayed into the crowd, a flurry of blonde perfection.
He watched her head bob to the music. Men twisted their necks to check her out. They noticed the line of her stockings over her calves and the shape of her tight ass tugging beneath her skirt. He considered joining her on the floor but didn’t picture himself inside her halo of glory.
The boat jarred loose from its moorings and coupled with the choppy water. Jerry recovered his balance with a quick sidestep. The stilted peeks of the skyline rolled through the oval portal windows. He felt a twinge in his gut. He grabbed the studded steel post, which supported the upper deck.
Someone was watching. Jerry noticed a man at the next steel post. The stranger came forward. He had short-cropped hair and a pointed nose. He wore a black turtleneck, a tweed sport coat, and precisely creased pants. He dressed like one of the catalogs Chelsea kept flashing in Jerry’s face.
Jerry waited to engage the stranger. He’d have to speak with someone at this shindig. He pivoted toward the dance floor to catch Chelsea’s eye. He was being a good husband, meeting the other guests, but she was mixing it up herself. She wove in a chain of dancers around the edge of the floor. A man with glasses clutched her hips. He whispered in her ear, and she laughed hysterically.
The man with the short hair held his gaze upon Jerry. “Your first time?”
Jerry prepared for small talk and a quick retreat to the outside railing. “Yes.”
“ You look new.”
Jerry checked his watch. “When do we get back to the dock?”
“ I’m with you. This is a bore.”
“ I didn’t say that.” Jerry knew he was blowing it. He better summon some charm and pretend he was having a good time. “This is nice.”
“ This isn’t my idea of a party. I come because it keeps me in touch. I get to see who’s who.”
“ So who’s who?” Jerry thought he recognized celebrities.
“ That’s a good question.”
“ So what’s the answer?”
“ This party’s not for our benefit.” The man pointed out the camera crew standing beside the bandstand. “It’s a promo for Super Pick Millions. Haven’t you seen the commercials?”
“ I think so.”
“ Life’s a non-stop party once you win. That’s what they’re selling.” The man looked to the dance floor. Heads shook with the music. Chelsea
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