They had just sat through a reading of the first five chapters of Antoine Fortune’s new novel, The Captain’s Wife, by the celebrated French author...himself. It had been billed as a tale of romance and adventure on the high seas of the seventeen-century. After the third page, even Andrew had found his mind wandering. ‘Bored enough that I’ve already figured out five different ways to kill the Frenchman,’ Leah said as she held up a small sliver of wood. ‘All with this toothpick!’ ‘Fantastic, you’ll. “We’ve fucked a few times on that, so yes, and once or twice on the main dining table.”“And how was it?”“Well... up until a few days ago I would have said ‘okay’ but now... ““Inadequate?”She smiled as she reached for his bulge. “Yes. I would say that describes it quite aptly.”He pulled her to him. “I hate a service that is just adequate,” he told her. “Show me this dining table. I’ll show you what excellence is.” Alan Alan sat back in his chair holding his half-filled glass of wine. The steak. More

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