SUMMER SWAP // Chapter 9

Sully groaned with pleasure and pushed back from the table, hamming theatrically, but not having to put it on too hard at all. “That was so incredible,” he said, head rocking back on the chair’s headrest as his face turned up to gaze at the sparkling stars arriving in the amaranth expanse of the Caribbean twilight. And everyone else agreed, nodding, some with their heads down, still eating; Byron wiped his brow with a napkin.

They were all gathered again under the fairy lights, at the same table where they’d played cards and Truth or Dare the other night. Arlo sat at the head of the table, the master of the evening, the Michelin-star sous chef who’d just delivered them a meal beyond belief. Arlo’s expression wasn’t smug, though if you didn’t know him you’d think it might be. Satisfied, that’s what it was. The kindest and most peaceful of their friends, the true artiste of the group. Sully met Arlo’s eye and saluted the man with two fingers. Arlo beamed.

Hands down the tenderest fish he’d ever eaten. The flesh had melted in his mouth like smoky butter. And there were poached eggs served on a cylinder cast in a kind of jelly with pomegranate seeds and blueberries suspended inside it. Plus greens with a sharp bite and a sweet dressing with scotch and mustard seed. They’d started with a salad of capers and pickled watermelon and lemon zest and crème fra”che, the dressing a mix of fresh dill and Grey Goose vodka and honey. They’d finished with melon and peaches; the melon marinated in port and served brunoise—whatever that was—and the peaches grilled and laid over a lemon-verbena ice cream Arlo and Lily had made back at home.

“Fucking divine,” Scarlet muttered next to him, fork-swooping a quarter peach through the last of the slushy ice cream.

They’d eaten a few times at Bonaparte, the tony restaurant at Columbus Circle where Arlo worked as sous chef. But this was different. This was Arlo doing what he wanted, and doing it for his friends.

Across the table, Cheyenne set her spoon down on the plate with a satisfied clink. “And this isn’t on the menu?”

Arlo just smiled and shook his head no.

Cheyenne couldn’t believe it, flopping against the back of the chair. “Why the hell not? None of this is on the menu?”

Carla swirled her ice wine in the bowl of her wineglass, eyes turned down and saying, “I can’t believe it either. But…” Now she looked over at Arlo and smiled. “Maybe someday.”

Arlo nodded, and Cheyenne muttered to herself, “Yeah, someday he ought to open his own restaurant. He’d be bigger than that hotshot Frankie Shellenberger.”

Cody raised his glass of ice wine, saying, “Here, here.”

They all leaned forward to gather their glasses of whatever they were imbibing so they could toast Arlo. Byron said, “Seriously, Arlo, hands down the best meal I’ve ever had. Not even close. I’ve eaten at Bonaparte a hundred times—you know that—and this was better than anything I had there.”

Lily giggled and said, “You know he prepares the food at Bonaparte?” She’d gotten sun on her cheeks, out for the day with Cody.

Byron said, “Oh, I know, I just mean these flavors… They’re incredible.”

Arlo leaned back in his chair and put an open hand across his chest. “I mean it sincerely, guys: It’s an absolute joy for me to cook for you. You can keep the praise coming, I don’t want to stop you, but just know I’m not trying to impress you, I just love to make you happy.”

Scarlet touched at her collar, affected. She said, “Aw,” and her lips pooched out. “We totally love you, Arlo.”

Byron said, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with toasting the guy again.”

Arlo waved them off, getting shy and embarrassed.

They all toasted him again, and he gestured to Carla, saying, “How about Carla? She was by my side all day. This is her work, too.”

Carla shooed him as everyone now turned their fawning to her, doing it theatrically, making Cody laugh. Carla said, “I just did whatever Arlo told me. Trust me”—she wound her finger around, pointing at all their empty plates—“this was all Arlo. But I’ll tell you something, I sure learned a lot today.” She looked toward Arlo. “Learned a lot about our accomplished friend.”

***

Lily served port after dinner and brought out a wheel of cheese on a walnut board. It was the stinkiest, softest cheese he’d had. By the time he finished his port, he heeled backward his chair to look behind Scarlet and toward Byron. Byron sensed him looking, sat back in his chair, too, pretending to yawn. They looked at each other, trying to communicate without words, seeing if they both wanted to get something going—as crazy as it was. He’d totally expected Byron to back out by now.

Byron’s eyes were alert despite the meal, the wine, and the port. The guy was still into it. Sully got it. There was something about this salacious act they were planning—that would never ever fucking happen—that really got the heart pumping. They went through a series of expression changes, raising eyebrows, rolling heads, making quizzical faces, bouncing eyebrows. Who knew what the fuck they were saying to each other? All that mattered was this operation still had a green light. Sully returned his attention to the table and said, “Believe it or not, I might hit the hay.”

Lily pouted. “I thought we were going to stay up late again.”

Cheyenne said, “Tomorrow night for sure.”

Byron said, “I might hit the hot tub.”

Sully leaned back again, trying to meet Byron’s eye. Byron looked over at Cheyenne. Cheyenne said, “I think I might join you.” Then Cheyenne turned to Scarlet and said, “How about you?”

Scarlet shrugged, turned to face Sully. He felt caught, like a con trying to escape prison when the screws pinned the searchlight on him. “Oh,” he said. “Yeah, whatever. I’m tired. Go to bed, or you know…”

Scarlet’s brow lowered as she studied him. She said, “Hot tub?”

Sully said, “Anybody else?”... In trying to make it seem legitimate and honest and not something surreptitious that they were up to, it was the polite thing to do, but as soon as he asked, he regretted it, gritting his teeth. If anyone came along, nothing would happen.

Carla eyed all for them, then turned and said for the rest of the group, “You guys go along. I think we’re going to hang out and talk.”

Scarlet said, “How about you, Philippe?” Sully saw her smile in profile. Under the table, Sully batted her thigh.

Carla said, “No, Philippe’s staying with us. We’re not letting him go.” She reached over to Philippe, and he put his hand out. They grasped fingers together and laughed.

“You four have fun,” Carla said. “Tomorrow night the cards are coming out again.”

Cody was checking his phone, eyes down, chuckling, saying, “Or maybe we’ll play Twister.”

Philippe laughed.

“Yeah, okay,” Sully said, pushing his chair back. “The tub sounds good. The tub and then, you know, who knows? Like I said, I’m tired.”

“We get it, Sully,” Scarlet said, standing and knocking back the last of her wine. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to keep you up late,” she said and went to her toes and kissed him.

Byron lead the way, walking away from the table and turning to wait for Cheyenne. Cheyenne went around behind Arlo’s chair, hugging an arm around his neck. She kissed the top of his head and Arlo smiled wide. She said, “You’re totally the best, Arlo. I mean it.” Arlo patted her arm.

Cheyenne said to the table, “Leave the dishes. I want to do them first thing in the morning.”

Cody still checked his phone. He said, “Carla’s got me on dish duty, Chey. You go enjoy yourself. Carla helped cook, I help clean.”

Sully pushed his hand at the small of Scarlet’s back, encouraging her to keep moving. Now they were standing up, he couldn’t wait to get to the hot tub. Scarlet clucked her tongue and shot him a dirty look. She went to Arlo as well, patting his cheek and kissing the top of his head. “Best meal I ever had, buddy.”

Arlo patted her arm, too, and said, “My pleasure, Scarlet. Totally my pleasure.”

They entered the yacht, heading down the hall toward the bedroom suites, Chey and Byron ahead of them, holding hands. He took Scarlet’s hand as well, but kept staring holes in the back of Byron’s head, trying to get him to look around. But what for? Byron had already expressed an eager expression. What more did he want? He just didn’t want to be disappointed. He didn’t want to get excited about the possibilities, and then have this whole thing dashed. The threat of disappointment frightened him. But the chances anything would happen were next to none. Too many cooks in the kitchen. Too many voices of opposition. Just like how Arlo couldn’t make that delicious meal at the restaurant when he worked under Frankie Shellenberger, Sully couldn’t get to happen what he wanted. Scarlet would object. Cheyenne would object. I mean, come on. And as eager as Byron looked, the closer they got to the moment, the more likely Byron would change his mind. This was all exciting until someone else actually touched your partner.

“Meet you guys at the tub,” Byron said, waving two fingers and not even looking around. He opened their bedroom suite door, and he and Cheyenne disappeared inside.

Scarlet tugged Sully’s hand, saying, “Come on, what are you waiting for?”

He realized he’d paused too long, Scarlet still holding his hand, their arms outstretched and Scarlet with the bedroom door open already.

“Coming,” he said, “I’m coming.”

It was in their bedroom, naked and pulling his swim trunks up, that Scarlet sprung it on him.

***

He said, “What are you talking about?”

Scarlet stood topless wearing only her bikini bottoms. She held the bra top in her hands, trying to sort out which part went over her head. She said, “What do you think?”

“What do I think? I think you’re putting me on. I think you’re teasing me again.”

She hooped the string collar over her head and looked at him with the dangling triangle cups unsecured over her naked breasts. “What if I told you that I wasn’t kidding this time?”

“I still wouldn’t believe you,” he said.

“I know you’re thinking about it.”

“No I’m not,” he said, indignant.

“You totally are. Chey told me.”

“Chey told you what?” he said, voice rising, getting defensive.

Scarlet said, “Relax, Sully. I’m not mad. Well, not a hundred-percent mad. I get it.”

“Get what?”

“Would you knock it off?” She nodded her chin between his legs. “Chey said you were showing that thing off.”

“No I wasn’t,” he said, fanning her away and turning aside, jumping in place to snug his swim shorts up. He began to tie the drawstring waist, but his hands shook so he put them on his hips so Scarlet wouldn’t notice.

“I’m not kidding,” Scarlet said. She folded her arms behind her back, eyes rolled up as she tried to tie the knot.

He said, “Turn around.”

Scarlet turned in place, and he tied the knot for her bikini top. He admired his wife’s beautiful back, her narrow waist and her round bottom with her bikini swooping across the globes of her ass. He chewed his cheek. With her facing away, he put his hands on her shoulders, kissed the back of her head. “If you’re not kidding, you know what this means.”

“Tell me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and laying her hands over his.

“You’re going to mess around with Byron.”

“You can say no.”

“Byron Bishop.”

“I’m aware. We only know one Byron.”

“And what am I going to do?”

“Whatever you want.”

“In the hot tub?”

“Not in the hot tub,” she said.

He paused thinking what to say next, mouth hanging open. Someone knocked on their door, and he rolled his eyes. He called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s Chey.”

His heart beat faster. This was real, and it wasn’t even his and Byron’s idea.

Scarlet said, “Come on in.”

The door opened, and Cheyenne led the way, also wearing a bikini, showing off her flat stomach, long, silky chestnut hair swishing behind her. Byron came up behind Chey, all smiles, wearing shorts with sharks on them, a fluffy white towel over his shoulder. He paused at the door, leaning on the jamb. Cheyenne came to stand next to Scarlet, and they faced Byron.

Byron said, “I should probably go get the tub started. I don’t know if anybody— Wait, what’s going on?” His brow lowered as he sensed something wasn’t right, the rest of them staring at him.

Scarlet said, “Come into the room, Byron. Close the door behind you.”