That is one big yacht. Real big. The sucker has to be at least a hundred and fifty feet long. It’s a shining white, polished chrome, ginormous ode to penile one-upmanship. Matt Smith Number One is hosting a party for feline Sphynx enthusiasts. On his yacht.
It’d taken a little work to find this yacht. Number One lives in a gated community for the mega rich, movie stars, and East Coast elite. At least this is what the security guard told us when he denied our entrance to the community. Regular Joes…not allowed. Somehow Chloe managed to stupefy him with her smile and before we knew it the butler was answering the door of Matt Smith’s waterfront mansion. The butler was very sorry, but Matt was on his yacht at the harbor. Were we by any chance here for the Sphynx gathering?
Why yes…yes we were.
The butler kindly gave us directions and here we are, staring up at the most massive yacht I’ve ever seen.
“He’s my soul mate, I can feel it,” Chloe says. She stands at the end of the dock and stares at the massive yacht, her eyes all sparkly and excited.
“Doubtful. The only thing I can feel is a hundred-foot-long inferiority complex.”
She turns to me and beams, so I scowl at her.
“I don’t care what you say. I have to get on that boat to meet my Matt Smith.”
I step up next to her and look down at the gray, frothy water. It smells like fish, salt and seaweed, and there’s some slimy green plant floating on the top. Not exactly pleasant, but hey, we won’t be swimming in it. The yacht is moored a ways out, we’re going to need to talk to the dockmaster for a tender boat to drop us off.
Chloe vibrates with anticipation. When we pulled up to the mega mansion, her eyes went wide with shock. But now…I expect she’s going to start doing cartwheels down the dock.
She turns to me. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are bright. “Remember in Pride and Prejudice when Elizabeth Bennet says she first realized she loved Darcy when she saw his huuuge estate?”
“No,” I say. I cross my arms and stare at the huuuge yacht.
“Yeah. That moment.” She grins at me and bats her eyelashes.
“Please, stop. Don’t be the BBC made-for-television version of yourself,” I say.
Her eyes widen and then she starts to laugh. “You watched it. You watched it! Nick O’Shea, Mr. ‘I don’t watch romance movies’, saw Pride and Prejudice. This is amazing.”
I glower as she does a little dance and fake boxes me.
“The more cynical they are, the harder they fall,” she says.
I lift an eyebrow, a skill she always envied. “Not at all. I’m only trying to warn you.”
“Oh, really?”
“Sure. This guy clearly has a major inferiority complex. He’s making up for something.”
She laughs. “Yeah right. You’re just jealous of my soul mate’s big yacht.”
“Poor, deluded Chloe,” I say.
“Poor, cynical Nick,” she purrs.
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