Ernest and Betty said good night, followed by Bob, Buddy, and Sam. Sam, of course, was burdened with the unconscious body of his wife. It was one of the few times he was glad she weighed so little.

Bob said, "Let me hold the door for you, Sam."

"Poor girl," Buddy said.

The almost newlyweds decided to take a stroll on the top deck and maybe have a soak in the hot tub. Once the yacht moved away from the lights of Majorca, thousands of stars appeared in the deep cobalt sky. Nick and Olivia decided to have a look at them from the vantage point of two recliners that were forward on the third deck.

"Isn't it funny how it doesn't seem to get quite as dark here as it does in New York?"

"We're closer to the equator here." Once they were settled, Nick exhaled and said, "Boy, this is the life, isn't it?"

"Yes, but speaking as a close observer for the last twenty-five years, all this glitter isn't quite what it's cracked up to be. I mean, not just Bob, but the majority of my clients, they have all this money and all their stuff, but where's their joy?"

"And where's the love?" Nick said. "Do you see any real affection between our bride and groom?"

"Well, I think there's a lot of heat. But neither one of them seem to have much in the way of manners."

"Yes. Sadly, it's true. Well, my precious love, let us lie here together for a moment or two in pleasant repose and take in the awesomeness of the Milky Way, which is truly awesome."

Olivia giggled at Nick's words. "Awesome. Let's do."

The first glimmer of daybreak found them before they found their rooms. They had fallen asleep on the deck, lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking motion of the yacht. And Le Bateau de l'Amour was at anchor, within viewing distance of a charming-looking port town whose harbor was filled with dozens of small boats, bobbing in the water like won tons in a bowl of soup.

Olivia was surprised. She sat up and stretched her arms over her head. "Wow. Nick? Wake up, sweetheart! It's morning." She shook his shoulder gently. His eyes popped open.

"What? What the devil! Oh, my! I haven't . . . I haven't done this in years!"

She helped him to his feet and they made their way to their room. He seemed unsteady to her. When they stepped over the watertight tall lip of the outside door that led into a living room, Nick tripped because he didn't lift his foot high enough to clear it. The riser of the door was designed thus so in heavy turbulence the closed door provided a solid seal and seawater wouldn't find its way into the interior rooms. Between that and holding open the heavy door when he tripped, they both nearly fell.

"Whoa! Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes. Just the insult of osteoarthritis. I'm a bit stiff from all that fresh air. I'll take a pill and I'll be fine."

"We almost hit the literal deck! Why don't I ask for some coffee? And a gla.s.s of juice?'

"Good idea. In the parlance of the young people, getting old sucks."

"I'll decide when you're old," she said.

Nick had a long hot shower, a cup of cappuccino, and an anti-inflammatory gel cap and declared himself cured. "I'm ready to greet the world!"

"Go ahead to breakfast. I'll be along in a few minutes."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm ravenous. You're sure you don't mind?"

"Not a single bit! Save me a seat."

He left, the door whooshing to a solid close behind him.

Breakfast was a casual affair on Bob's yacht, and Olivia could see it all from memory. There would be a buffet of cereals, fruit, cheeses, smoked fish, and charcuterie. If anyone wanted rye toast, an omelet or waffles or a two-minute egg, all they had to do was ask. There were usually a few different blends of smoothies on the buffet in addition to croissants with an a.s.sortment of jams and jellies. The expanded table was set with beautiful Limoges china, Italian hand-embroidered linens, and Christofle silver flatware. Each place setting had its own salt and pepper cellars, and blocks of b.u.t.ter filled several silver b.u.t.ter crocks. There was a beautiful centerpiece of flowers and fruit that would change with every meal. What made this breakfast casual was not the food or the service but the dress code. Bob's hospitality was boundless.

With the exception of Betty and Ernest and of course Nick and Olivia, everyone would appear at the table in a robe over a swimsuit or work-out clothes, having just finished their cardio or weight training in the gym. Dorothy would have on a full face of makeup with a swimsuit and hopefully a robe, hung over and in a foul mood.

Olivia thought, I can definitely wait a while before seeing her.

Mich.e.l.le would arrive in yoga clothes and have nothing to say to anyone. Maritza would be wearing something Dorothy despised, a catalyst to start the eye rolling and teeth sucking. She was in no rush to see that either. Betty and Ernest would be slipping deeper into a state of worry for Kitty's future and a general state of malaise. If dosed with truth serum, Olivia would've sided with them in their opinions, and that would be fatal for her professional relationship with Bob. It was best to delay the advent of her appearance.

Kitty would most likely already be working on her cake. She had stated plainly that she wanted no help. Daniel would be somewhere eating granola and yogurt and gluten-free toast, earbuds in, listening to his music, wishing there was just one person on board whose company he enjoyed besides Kitty. Ellen would be cajoling Gladdie to drink her juice while playing footsie with Bob if she was within range of him. Maritza would be brooding until she snapped out of it or maybe not. Maybe she was getting into the swing of things for the wedding.

So Olivia encouraged Nick to go to breakfast without her so that she could dress for the day in peace. She wanted to dress in something worthy of greeting Colette, who would undoubtedly arrive early with dogged determination to ruin the day for Maritza.

Olivia had worked with Colette on several residences she shared with Bob in their halcyon days-a condo in Aspen that looked like a Ralph Lauren Home ad; their apartment near Lincoln Center, which was all chrome, white, and modern; and Le Bateau de l'Amour, which was very traditional with some nod to marine accessories. Bob was the one with all the taste. Colette was just a hanger. A former Ford runway model, everything she put on hung on her as though it was custom designed just for her.

Colette's marriage to Bob went the longest distance of them all, but they were disastrously matched to begin with. Colette was a fling Bob had while married to Elaine, but then when he discovered Colette was in the family way and carrying a son, Bob left Elaine and married her. Like Henry VIII, Bob wanted a male heir, an aspiration he had no doubt rethought from time to time.

Olivia had told Bob on more than one occasion that it was unnecessary to marry everyone he slept with. Bob would admit that so many ex-wives did make things more complicated. And Colette was an especially tough customer. She made sweet Sam's wife Dorothy look like Mary Tyler Moore. After a decade or so of being thoroughly henpecked by Colette, Bob began to cat around in search of kinder arms. And what do you know? He found them right under his nose belowdecks in the galley. Le Bateau de l'Amour finally earned its name.

By the time Olivia did appear for breakfast, the Bemises and the Kreyers had already taken the launch to sh.o.r.e on the excuse of finding a gift for the bride and groom. Olivia was happy not to have to deal with them. Maritza was working with someone from the crew to lay out the area where the ceremony would be performed.

"Good morning!" Olivia said. "How are the plans coming along?"

"Oh! Hey!" Maritza was really happy to see Olivia. "Did you eat?"

"No, I'm actually going to grab something now. Come sit with me."

"Okay, sure!" She turned to the crewman and said, "You don't need me, do you?"

"No, ma'am," Anton said. "I'm pretty sure I have the gist of how you want it laid out. And they're working on flowers in the pantry, if you want to see them."

"Just surprise us. How's that? Let's go, Olivia. After the way Daniel spoke to me last night, he ought to be glad I didn't make him walk the plank."

"Yes. He seems more surly than usual. What's going on?" Olivia said.

They stepped out onto the deck, where Nick sat with Betty and Ernest, chatting away. Ellen and Gladdie were just leaving.

"He's just an ent.i.tled little monster," Maritza whispered. "It's that simple."

Olivia nodded in agreement and then caught Nick's eye. "Hi, sweetie! Can I get you something since I'm up? Good morning, Betty, Ernest. I hope you both rested well?"

"Slept like a baby," Betty said cheerily. "I was just saying to Nick that this place is so picturesque!"

"Yes, it is," Olivia said and turned to the crew member who had appeared to take her order. "I'll just have a cappuccino and whatever's on the buffet." She put some slices of smoked salmon on a plate with a wedge of Brie and a handful of grapes.

"Very good, Ms. Ritchie."

Maritza took a seat next to Betty.

"Mommy! Come watch Cinderella with me and Ellen!"

"Not now, sweetie," Maritza said.

Gladdie frowned, crossed her arms, and stamped her tiny feet at Maritza.

"Mommy's tired, sweetie. I'll watch it with you tomorrow. We have a wedding today."

"And I'm the flower girl!"

"Come on, Gladdie," Ellen said. "She's too busy for you now."

Sullen Gladdie and smug Ellen left them then, and Betty and Ernest were slack-jawed.

"I think I'd like a c.o.ke with ice," Maritza said to Jessica, the crew member who was one of four waiting the table for that meal. "Just ignore my nanny, Betty. She's got an agenda."

"Sure thing, Maritza," Jessica said. "I mean, Mrs. Vasile."

"Stop! You'd better not get all weird with me, girl!" Maritza said and laughed.

Jessica giggled and walked away.

"Isn't it strange for the help to call you by your first name?" Betty said and added, "Oh, I'm sorry! That's none of my beeswax."

"No, no! It's okay. Jessica used to be my bunkmate. "

"Oh," Betty said, again unsure of how things worked in Maritza, Bob, and Daniel's world. "Well, she looks enough like you to be your twin."

They began to talk about the ceremony, which would take place at six that evening against the backdrop of the setting sun. A special dinner would follow a champagne and caviar reception, the menu of course designed by Maritza. A local trio was coming on board to play for a few hours. After that, Kitty and Daniel were taking the jet to Saint-Tropez, where they would spend a week on Bob's other large boat, a gorgeous schooner-rigged sailing yacht that measured one hundred and eighty feet in length. It had a crew of ten.

"Boy oh boy!" Betty said. "I'm waiting for that fellow Robin Leach to jump out from behind the curtains!"

They all laughed.

"Remember him? Whatever became of him?" Maritza said.

"Hopefully," Olivia said, "he's living his caviar dreams."

"I always liked him," Betty said. "Well, it's getting on to ten o'clock. I should go see if I can help the bride."

Maritza said, "Betty? If you'd like to have your hair done this afternoon, we have a stylist on board."

"You do?" Betty said. "Why, that would be so nice! Thank you!"

"The salon is on the same deck as your stateroom. Would you like to say three o'clock?"

"That sounds just fine. Thank you so much!"

Olivia said, "I've got to give them my dress to steam out. It looks like an accordion."

Just as Olivia stood to leave the table, she saw Le Bateau de l'Amour's launch approaching them. and on that launch was Bob's ex-wife, Daniel's mother, and Maritza's archenemy-Colette.

Colette Vasile had arrived, resplendent in a most dramatic haute couture ensemble.

"Sweet baby Jesus!" Maritza said in horror. "She's gonna spend the whole day and the whole night?"

Ernest and Betty were aghast at Maritza's profanity and turned to see who was docking at the stern. Even Nick's interest was piqued. As discreetly as they could, they all moved to the rail to watch the tall, willowy, glamorous Colette ascend the stairs and be greeted a little too warmly by Bob. She was wearing white crepe wide-legged pants and a navy-and-white-striped boat-neck silk sweater. Her purse was a large red patent leather Valentino tote bag. She wore an oversize and very dramatic red straw hat with a Herms scarf tied around its crown and cat-eye designer white sungla.s.ses. The launch's captain handed Colette's Bottega Veneta duffel bag to a member of the crew.

"Red lips at this hour?" Maritza said. "I always said she was tacky."

Olivia put her arm around Maritza and said, "It's going to be okay."

"Oh dear," said Betty, finally getting the picture.

"I need to go fix my face," Maritza said.

"This is getting interesting," Nick whispered to Olivia. "I think I'll go get my book and sit out here for while." He thought, The last time I saw Colette, she was married to Bob. The big cats are going to have a face off. Nick was t.i.tillated.

"I'll see y'all in a little bit!" Maritza said and turned to escape to her room.

"Yes. Suddenly I feel like I need a makeover," Olivia said. "Maritza! Wait! I'm coming with you. Don't you know she's been planning her arrival since she got word of the wedding? Show me what you're wearing for the ceremony."

"Okay. Did you see Bob kiss her?" Maritza said.

"That doesn't mean anything and you know it. It's just Bob being continental."

"I don't think he had to hold her so close, do you?"

"Listen to me, Maritza." Olivia stopped her right in the middle of the living room. "You've got to tell yourself that Colette is here because you understand that she should be here and you have no objection to it. If she sees that you're uncomfortable with her presence, it sends her a message that is better left unsent. Do you know what I'm telling you?"

"Yes. Bob is my husband now. Not hers. And this is my yacht, not hers."

"I sincerely hope you don't have to remind her of that, but yes, that's the general story. Always deal from strength, not weakness. Got it?"

"Got it," Maritza said and her bottom lip quivered.

"None of that, Maritza! Pretend you're Meryl Streep and give that mean old b.i.t.c.h an Oscar-winning performance." There! Olivia finally called the situation what it was. "When she's gone tomorrow, I'll sit on the deck with you and we can call her every name in the book."

"I'll try," Maritza said.

Olivia had her own serious doubts about Maritza's ability to rise above the utter nonsense she was about to be forced to endure.

Somehow Olivia helped Maritza completely avoid Colette until lunch. Olivia sat with her while she had her hair and makeup done, and they went over her outfit for the evening, considering all her options several times. Her hair was put up into an elegant twist and her makeup was soft and dewy-very natural, except for the eyelash extensions.

"I think I'm going to wear the pale blue dress. I love the sparkles."

"You're going to be stunning!" Olivia said.

By one the whole gang convened on the main deck where the table was set for thirteen. Everyone was milling around, waiting to be told where to sit. Ellen and Gladdie were having pizza in the media room, watching Cinderella. Again.

"You'll know where to find me, Bob," Ellen said to him in her sultry voice.