“Tuna belly with horseradish sushi, Mr. Rodman?”

“Get that stuff away from me. It smells.” The host turned around.

“Of course, Mr. Rodman.” The waiter walked silently away, using his best Miami Ballet port de bras.

“Adrienne, why can’t we have normal waiters? Why are they naked?”

“You said you wanted something festive. This is festive, Paul.” Adrienne was now shouting as if her husband were a caterer who had refused to deliver.

Just then Paul noticed Samantha Acton arriving on the boat with Judy. “Adrienne, how did you get Samantha Acton to come to this party?” Paul asked admiringly.

“Is she here?” Adrienne turned around.

“You must have invited her, honey.” He patted her on her rear.

“I don’t even know her, but she probably heard about the waiters or that we’re throwing your mother overboard.”

Paul suddenly laughed uproariously. “C’mere, you.”

“You’re a pig.” Adrienne snorted.

“Honey, I saw a bracelet in the window at Bulgari yesterday. I was thinking you should take a look at it.” Paul took her hand.

“Let me just say it better take up a lot of space ’cause you’ve got a lot of making up to do. And tell your mother next holiday she can stay in the Bronx where she came from.” She reached her hand toward his pants and grabbed him.

“Yes, dear.” Paul was suddenly aroused.

“And by the way, when I stop in at Bulgari tomorrow there’s also a ring I need from Buccellati.” She continued to stroke him.

“Anything you want, honey.”

Adrienne pulled her hand away. “C’mon, Shelly, I think Stevie Wonder is here.”

“He is?” Shelly asked.

“Well, Sting wasn’t available.”

“My wife can do anything.” Paul patted Adrienne on the rear again and walked away.

“How did you get Stevie Wonder?” Shelly asked. “I’m just curious.”

“Beats me, babe.”

“I thought you put this together.”

“Are you kidding? I hired an events co-coordinator. I can’t waste my time calling singers. I did that in my twenties. C’mon, let’s go say hello to Samantha Acton.”

“I’m dying to meet that handsome husband of hers. In fact, maybe if I had met him earlier Mark would have never left me.”

“I can’t believe Samantha’s with Judy Tremont,” Adrienne said.

“Who’s Judy Tremont?”

“One of those women who just shops and exercises. We gave her a ride here. Shelly, I honestly thank God every day that I’ve got more in my life than just that.” Adrienne waved and walked over to greet her guests.

“Judy! So glad you could make it!”

Adrienne didn’t know half the people on her yacht and she didn’t particularly care. There were Paul’s friends, investment bankers, CEOs, and familiar names in real estate like Rudin or Trump. But personally she preferred her old Hollywood pals—the ICM agents, the studio execs and television producers. Paul didn’t mind the Hollywood people keeping Adrienne up to date. For example, it was fine with Paul if Adrienne wanted to have Barry Santorini on his boat as long as he didn’t offer her a full-time position. But real society stars like Samantha Acton were not really among either of their acquaintance. As far as Paul was concerned, she lifted the party to another level.