“That's sick,” Adam said, shaking his head. “It's bad enough that I do it. The girls you go out with have too much class to want you to buy them tits.” The women Adam went out with needed them to get ahead, as actresses or models. Adam wasn't interested in class. It would have been a handicap for him. Women like the ones Charlie went out with would have been a headache for Adam. He didn't want to stick around. Charlie claimed he did. Gray just let things drift. He had no firm plans, about anything. He just lived life as it came. Adam had a schedule for everything, and a plan.

“At least it would be an unusual gift. I get so tired of buying them china.” Charlie smiled through his cigar smoke.

“Just be happy you're not paying them alimony and child support. Believe me, china is a lot cheaper,” Adam said tartly. He had stopped paying Rachel alimony when she remarried, but she had taken half of everything he had, and he was still paying hefty child support, which he didn't begrudge his kids. But he hated what he had given her in the settlement. She had really put it to him ten years before when they divorced, and he had already been a partner in his firm. She got a lot more than he felt she deserved. Her parents had hired her a terrific lawyer. And he still resented it bitterly ten years later. He had never gotten over the damage she'd done, and probably never would. In his mind, buying breast implants was fine, alimony wasn't. Ever again.

“I think it's too bad you have to buy them anything, along those lines,” Gray commented. “I'd rather just buy a woman something because I want to. Not pay for her lawyer, therapist, or a nose job,” he said innocently. Considering how little he had, whenever he got involved with someone, he wound up getting stuck for a fortune, in proportion to what he earned. But he always wanted to help them. Gray was the Red Cross of dating. Adam was the wheeler and dealer, setting clear limits and making trade-offs. Charlie was the ever polite and romantic Prince Charming. Although Gray said he was romantic too. It was just the women he got involved with who weren't, they were too desperate and needy to pay much attention to romance. But he would have liked to have some in his life, if he ever managed to get mixed up with someone sane, which seemed ever more unlikely. Adam claimed to no longer have a romantic bone in his body, and was proud of it. He said he'd rather have great sex than bad romance.

“What's wrong with having all of it?” Gray asked, starting on his third glass of the great wine. “Why not sex and romance, and even someone who loves you? And that you love in return.”

“Sounds good to me,” Charlie agreed. And of course in his case, he wanted blue blood in the mix as well. He admitted readily that when it came to women, he was a snob. Adam always teased him and said he didn't want his bloodlines sullied by some peasant girl. Charlie objected to the way he put it, but they both knew it was true.

“I think you're both living in fantasyland,” Adam said cynically. “Romance is what screws up everything, everyone gets disappointed and pissed off, and that's when the shit hits the proverbial fan. If everyone knows it's just about sex and some fun, no one gets hurt.”

“Then how come all your girlfriends get so pissed off on the way out?” Gray asked simply. He had a point.

“Because women never believe what you tell them. The minute you tell them you'll never get married, you become a challenge, and they start shopping for a wedding dress. But at least I'm honest. If they don't believe me, that's their problem. I say the words. If they don't want to hear them, that's up to them. But God knows I say them.” That was also one of the advantages of dating very young women. Twenty-two-year-olds generally weren't looking for marriage, just a good time. It was only when they started creeping up on thirty that they looked around and got panicked about where things were going. The younger ones wanted to go to clubs and bars, buy a few dresses and charge them to him, and go to concerts and expensive restaurants. If he took them to Las Vegas for a weekend, when he had to see one of his clients, they thought they'd died and gone to Heaven.

His family, however, had a different attitude. His mother always accused him of dating hookers, especially when she saw him in the tabloids. He always corrected her and said they were actresses and models, which she assured him was the same thing. His sister just looked embarrassed when the subject came up at family dinners. His brother thought it was funny, but for the past few years had told him it was time for him to settle down. Adam could not have cared less what they thought. He thought their lives were painfully boring.

His wasn't. And he assured himself regularly that they were just jealous, because he was having fun and they weren't. His parents weren't jealous, they just disapproved of him on principle. And predictably, given her disapproval of Adam, or maybe just to annoy him, he thought sometimes, his mother had stayed close to Rachel. She liked her and her new husband, and always reminded Adam that she saw Rachel and stayed close to her because she was her grandchildren's mother. Whatever the issue or argument, Adam's mother always chose to be on the opposite side from him. She couldn't help herself. She had a contrary nature and a need for conflict. He suspected that beneath it all, his mother loved him. But she seemed to feel compelled to criticize him and make his life difficult. She appeared to disapprove of everything he did.

His mother still blamed him for the divorce, and said he must have done something terrible to her, to make her leave with someone else. She never sympathized with Adam for a moment that his wife had cheated on him, and left him. It had to be his fault. Somewhere, beneath the overt criticism and disapproval, he suspected she was proud of his accomplishments. But his mother never admitted that to him.

It was after eleven when they left the dinner table and wandered around St. Tropez for a while. The streets were crowded, and people were sitting at sidewalk cafés and at open-air restaurants and bars. Music was blaring from several nightclubs. They stopped for a drink at Chez Nano, and got to Les Caves du Roy at one o'clock in the morning, as it was coming to life. There were women everywhere in halter tops, tight jeans, simple little see-through dresses and shirts, artfully tousled hair, and sexy high-heeled sandals. Adam felt like a kid in a candy store, and even Charlie and Gray enjoyed it. Gray was a lot shyer about picking up women. They usually found him. And Charlie was infinitely more selective, but he loved watching the scene.

By one-thirty, all three of them were dancing, and they were still relatively sober. The Brazilian girls never reappeared, but Adam didn't care. He danced with at least a dozen others, and then settled on a little German girl who said her parents had a house in Ramatuelle, the neighboring town to St. Tropez. She looked about fourteen, until she started dancing with Adam. Then it became rapidly obvious that she knew what she was doing, and what she wanted, and was considerably older. She wanted Adam. She was practically making love to him on the dance floor. It was after three o'clock by then and Charlie began to yawn. He and Gray went back to the boat a few minutes later. Adam said he'd find his way back on his own, since they were docked at the quay that night, and Charlie had given him a radio in case he needed to call them. Adam nodded and continued dancing with the German girl, who had bright red hair and said her name was Ushi. He winked at Charlie as they walked out, and Charlie smiled. Adam was having fun. A lot of fun.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” Gray asked as they walked back to the boat. You could hear the music for a long way. But it was peaceful on the boat, once they got inside and closed the doors. Charlie offered Gray a brandy before they went to bed, but Gray said he just couldn't. They stood on deck smoking cigars instead, watching people stroll along the quay, or sit talking on other yachts docked nearby. St. Tropez was the ultimate party town—where people seemed to stay up all night.

“I was thinking we should head for Portofino, or maybe stop in Monte Carlo,” Charlie answered. After a while, even a few days, the revelry in St. Tropez got old, unless you had friends there, which they didn't. It was fun to eat in the restaurants and go to the nightclubs, but there were a number of other places they wanted to visit in the next month, some of them as festive as St. Tropez, and others a little quieter. Monte Carlo was more elegant and sedate, and all three of them enjoyed going to the casino.

“Adam might want to stick around for another night or two to see this German girl again,” Gray commented, thinking about their friend. He didn't want to spoil his fun, or blow his romance. Charlie knew him better and was more cynical. If he knew Adam, and if past trips were any indication, one night with her was all he wanted.

It was nearly four in the morning when Charlie and Gray went to their respective cabins. It had been a long but enjoyable night. Charlie fell asleep instantly, and neither of them heard Adam come in at five that morning.

Charlie and Gray were having breakfast on the aft deck, when Adam and Ushi emerged, smiling. She looked only faintly embarrassed when she saw the two other men.

“Gut morning,” she said politely, as Charlie thought she looked about sixteen in the bright daylight. She wasn't wearing makeup, but she had a spectacular figure, in the jeans and skin-tight T-shirt she'd been wearing the night before, and carrying a pair of high-heeled gold sandals. Her red hair was full and long, and Adam had an arm around her.