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GANGWAY. "WHAT A nice surprise—in this mob of people, too. What did you think of the parade?" he asked, welcoming them onboard. "It was great, wasn't it?"
    Stella smiled. "Absolutely—a perfect day for a parade. This is my friend, Megan Sullivan, and her children, Ruthie and Joey. Megan, kids, Buddy Morton."
    "Wow! This is one humongous boat!" Joey exclaimed.
    "Joey wants a ride," Ruthie piped up. "Really, really bad."
    "Sorry about that." Megan rolled her eyes. "Kids."
    "Megan's running for state senate," Stella offered. "We walked along with the parade and passed out campaign literature."
    "The senate? Congratulations." Buddy glanced down at Joey and winked. "And maybe we can take the boat out later."
    "Wow! Did you hear that, Mom! He said
maybe
!"
    "I have to see what the others onboard want to do." Buddy made a small palm's-up gesture. "Some want to see the town and street dance, some the river. But come on—have a cool drink and check out the view."
    As they followed Buddy down the gleaming deck, Megan gave Stella one of those raised eyebrow looks—you know, the half question, half way-to-go look.
    Stella returned a cautionary frown, warning off any potential grilling on Buddy Morton's dating qualifications. Megan was always trying to line her up when she didn't want to be lined up or even be in the running to be lined up. Whether Buddy was married, unmarried, divorced, or in a long-standing relationship had never crossed her mind, because she didn't care. It was as simple as that.
    With some men there were vibes.
    With others like Buddy—none at all.
    Unlike the hot stud last week who had walked into her store and taken up a prominent position—front and center—in her mind. She'd dealt with the unwanted image by consigning him to her fantasy world, letting Marky B take on a new hunky cohort in her fight for right. It was the crassest displacement of course, but highly effective. And by Friday morning, when she'd sent her latest comic to the printers, her Xzodus Software man had been relegated to six pages in
The Remarkable Adventures of Marky B
, Chapter 31.
    Not that her coping mechanism would bear close scrutiny.
    But then she'd understood long ago that her psychological profile wasn't anywhere near the middle of the pack. Rationalize and move on. That was her motto.
    With two bartenders dispensing drinks on the top deck, Megan soon had her pomegranate martini, the kids had fruit slushies, and Stella was trying to decide between a chocolate martini and a beer that would be less apt to spill on the gently rocking boat.
    "One of those," she finally said, pointing to a Belgium pilsner nestled in a tub of ice along with a dozen other kinds of beer from around the world. Buddy had financial resources, no doubt about that. Bartenders on each deck, catering staff dispensing hors d'oeuvres and picking up the mess, a buffet twenty feet long manned by servers at attention. Not to mention this yacht—definitely a seven-figure baby.
    When they were supplied with drinks, Buddy gave them a guided tour, introducing them to some of the beautiful, tanned, buff, perfectly coiffed people as they moved from deck to deck. When they reached the bridge, the children were absolutely thrilled when he let them sit at the wheel in the high padded captain's chair.
    "Boy, am I gonna tell Tommy about this!" Joey crowed. "Look, I'm turning the wheel! Tommy never did anything this cool—not in a million years!"
    When it was her turn, Ruthie sat mesmerized by the sleek panel of lights, flipping approved switches off and on with childish glee. "Just like in a rocket to the moon," she said, beaming from ear to ear.
    "I bet it goes that fast, too!" Joey exclaimed. "I just know it does!"
    "If there's time, we'll take her out," Buddy offered. "I'll show you the engine room next. You'll like the twin engines, Joey. They're custom made."
    A crewman entered the bridge. "One of your guests fell in, boss." He shrugged. "I think. She might have dived