'I was just wondering what it was that kept you up so late?'
Kate saw no point in denying where she had been. Very little had actually happened. Unless you counted a small trip before maybe falling head over heels in love. Certainly nothing had happened in the bed department. She shrugged and said, 'The guy on the next boat invited me over for a drink, that's all. He makes a pretty good Margarita.'
'I'm interested to hear it. Margarita's my favorite cocktail. And would this be the same guy who came over here for a drink yesterday afternoon?'
'The same guy.'
Bowen looked thoughtful.
'Something wrong with that?' asked Kate.
'He's certainly a good-looking fellow,' he remarked.
Bowen started grinning at Kate in a way she found offensive. Like he was some jealous sugar-daddy or something.
'Meaning?'
He said with apparent innocence, 'Meaning, he's a good-looking guy.'
Kate placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of him and then retired behind the galley counter, just in case she felt tempted to tip the hot coffee into his lap. She watched him take a sip and almost wished that the coffee was poisoned, like Bowen's mind. At the very least she wanted to take the brim of his stupid Tilley hat and tug it down hard, over his eyes and ears, just to see if it would make any difference to the way he conducted himself.
Bowen said, 'Since he and I are to be neighbors, I guess you'd better tell me his name.'
Kate sipped her coffee and stared out of the full-width windshield, her mind wandering. Although the time was not quite ten o'clock, it was already a hot day. The Tropic of Cancer was only a hundred miles to the south. Confident of her figure, she wanted to wear a bikini for Dave's benefit; but the idea of wearing anything more revealing than a nun's habit around Bowen filled her with disgust. She was hoping to go up on the coachroof sunpad and catch some rays while listening in to the bug that had been planted aboard the Britannia during loading by one of the Port Everglade stevedores. The trouble was, a single device had not proven to be enough and Kate was going to have to place another on Rocky's boat herself. She was still undecided about her costume for the day.
Bowen kept on grinning through Kate's obdurate silence.
'He does have a name, doesn't he? The captain of the Juarista?
'His name is David Dulanotov and he's not the captain, he's the owner,' Kate said quickly. Almost immediately she regretted her alacrity. Telling Bowen anything was as good as telling him too much, for it was plain he was jealous.
'The owner, eh? Same as me.' Bowen allowed the grin to become his irritating chuckle. 'I should have known. As soon as I saw him, I felt he and I had something in common.' He drank some more coffee. 'Peer recognizing peer. You know the kind of thing. And you know boats. So tell me, Kate, how much do you think a boat like the Juarista would cost?'
Kate was uncertain if she should leave him in impotent ignorance or tell him and make him feel small. Finally she couldn't resist rubbing his nose up against Dave's obvious wealth. She said, 'I don't know. Maybe three million dollars?'
'Three million bucks. Jesus, he must be worth a bundle.'
'It's hardly the biggest boat on the ship, Kent. Rocky's boat has twenty or thirty feet on David's.'
'David?' Bowen smiled. 'You know how long it would take me to get that kind of money together? Maybe fifty years.'
'Don't tell me, tell your Congressman.'
'And if that's what he spends on a goddamn boat, can you imagine what kind of house he lives in?'
Kate found she could imagine all kinds of things about David Dulanotov and most of them involved her being naked.
'What are you? A real estate agent?'
'I mean, you don't spend more on the boat than you do on the house. It stands to reason the guy's house has got to be three or four times as much as his boat. It's got to be a seven or eight million dollar place, he's got. Imagine that. Jesus.'
Kate sighed and looked into her coffee cup.
'What's he do for a living? Young fellow like that. Rob banks? Smuggle cocaine?'
'I see there's nothing wrong with your imagination. As far as I know he works in the Financial Center on Biscayne Boulevard. Commodities or something.'
'That's as good as robbing a bank. Better. Those guys are harder to catch when they get up to something. Fraud, insider dealing, shit like that.'
'What are you? The Securities and Exchange Commission? Kent, you haven't the first idea what you're talking about. You don't even know the guy.'
'I know the type,' insisted Bowen. 'Maybe better than you think. Maybe better than you.'
Exasperated, Kate tossed the rest of her coffee into the sink.
'It's not every day we rub shoulders with multi-millionaires, Kate. It's natural we should feel curious about these people. That we should be dazzled by them and their wealth.'
'Is that a personal observation? What is this?'
