FOURTEEN
Fixing the Dreamboat’s engine wasn’t going to take much. The kicker was that there was still fuel in the tank; that bastard Clive just didn’t know what the f**k he was doing. All the glitz and expense that surrounded the damn dingy, yet the fucker scrimped on basic maintenance. It wasn’t the yacht’s fault she hadn’t been looked after.
Swain was ascending the gangplank between the vessels with Jockey just behind him. They’d been over there since lunch. All of his Eros’ duties had been neglected in deference to getting the Dreamboat going. The longer they stayed at anchor, the more money he and his guys were losing.
“We get them underway at dawn,” Jockey said behind him. Wiping engine grease from his hands, Swain stuffed the rag in his pocket when he was done. “If Gumdrop gets ou
