The Starboard Knife

Je

The conversation turned to Je

“To keep you coming back for more. It’s better for sales that way.”

“Yeah, but don’t your readers complain about having to spend more money to find out what happens?”

“So far, you’re the only one.” Which wasn’t true, but it was more fun to watch Karen squirm in her seat.

They chatted, and drank, and dipped tortilla chips into some of Chet’s homemade hummus. It wasn’t long before the expensive homes on the shoreline shrank to the size of Monopoly houses and then shrank further to colorful specks among rolling sand dunes. The engine switched off and Alex came down from the cockpit.

“We’re about twenty miles out. Twenty-one, maybe. I say we just drift and see where the current takes us. Sound good?”

“Perfect,” Erica said, “I don’t have anywhere to be for a couple of days,” and everyone agreed.

It’s always about you, Je

But, she had no argument and the twinge of jealousy was gone a beat later. Erica was right. Saturday and Sunday. Two days of freedom before they were back to work, back to raising children, back to hiding secrets from husbands and wives. Back to baking bread and sitting in front of a computer.

Surely, out here, the burdens of life would be kept at bay.

***

Once Terri finished analyzing Erica’s dreams about cookies and deals at Nordstrom’s—fifteen minutes later they were slouching with boredom—Alex suggested they go for a swim.

“Is it safe?” Chet asked. “I mean, out here, you know?” He put his arm around Karen’s shoulders. “I hate to be the greenhorn landlubbers, but neither one of us has ever been on a yacht before, much less this far out in the water. Aren’t there sharks or something?”

“I haven’t either,” Laura added, looking at Sharon. “Have you?”

Sharon shook her head.

Erica said, “Jesus, guys, every single one of you lives five miles from the ocean. How have you never been on a yacht before?”

It was said in jest, but Je

Alex said, “There’s nothing to worry about, but if you feel something nibbling on your toes, be sure to let the rest of us know.” He took off his shirt, revealing taut pecs and abs that Je

He ran toward the side of the boat, jumped, and executed a perfect flip into the water. At twenty-five, he was the youngest in the group, and sometimes it showed. The rest of them, ranging from their early thirties to mid-forties, except for Je

They floated lazily, bobbing along with the gentle undulation of the sea, until a piece of seaweed touched Chet’s foot. The childish squeal was shrill like a lifeguard’s whistle calling for everyone to get out of the water. He screamed something unintelligible, flailing and kicking, almost dragging Karen under the surface with him, and eventually regained enough control to slap-paddle his way over to the yacht and scramble up the ladder.

Seven bodies, some thin and getting sunburned, some plump and already red, thrashed at the surface and hurried back up onto The Harlot after Chet.

Alex laughed and Je

Treading water, the two of them bobbed side-by-side, waiting to see if anyone would be brave enough to come back in. Je

Quietly, he said, “Bunch of freaking sissies. I’m glad you’re not like that. Look at Erica shaking. She’s almost vibrating.”

“Do you like her?” Je

“She’s okay, I guess. A little full of herself.”

“That’s not really what I mean.”

Alex squeezed tighter at her waist and pulled her closer. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers—a welcoming feeling against the chill of the sea. “She’s hot, if that’s what you’re asking, but I wouldn’t fuck her with Wade’s dick. Who knows what’s been in that thing.”

Je

PART THREE

By ten o’clock that evening, as they drifted on the Atlantic, thoroughly exhausted, happy, relaxed, and drunk, inhibitions loosened as they often do among friends with too much alcohol and too little food.

Erica, as promised and on schedule, was on top of the glass, mid-deck table, dancing in the nude. Everyone but Mark and Terri cheered her on, throwing paper napkins at her like they were dollar bills. Je

Some had seen it before, some hadn’t. Regardless, everyone seemed to be having fun with it, the men for obvious reasons—Sharon and Laura for the same, but less obvious.

Wade, Alex, and Chet relaxed back onto the cushions of their seats, holding pillows over their laps and trying not to look too eager. Karen whistled and yelled, “You go, girl!” while Sharon and Laura exchanged quick, furtive glances, as if giving each other permission to enjoy the show. Terri had her legs crossed, bouncing an impatient foot, with her mouth pinched in disapproval, staring intently back to the west, perhaps dreaming of home, while Mark polished his glasses over and over, occasionally sneaking a peek when he was certain his wife’s attention was elsewhere.

Good fun. Good, drunk fun.

Je

“No way.”

“Seriously, come on.”

Je

Erica squatted down, almost lost her balance, and bent over, naked rear in full view of the three men that were allowed to look. She put her mouth to Je

Je