"Marc had many Yankees hats, but some he favored more than others. These days, his go-to hat was a New Era navy blue hat, made in Bangladesh and approved and officially licensed by Major League Baseball (as if there was such a thing as being unofficially licensed). On the front of the cap was the classic white interlocking “NY”, introduced by Babe Ruth’s Yankees in 1922. Marc prided himself on knowing that the famous logo predated the Yankees – it was first designed by Tiffany & Co. as part of a Medal of Valor for John McDowell, a New York City Police Officer who had been shot in the Hell’s Kitchen section of Manhattan in 1877 chasing down burglars who had stolen $120 worth of cigars from Cortney’s Liquor Store."

 

"The logo on the outside of all Yankee caps was identical, but it was the colors and the inside that made each unique. The white band inside the brim of Marc’s cap was brown and irretrievably soiled with well-earned sweat stains from various softball games and too many rounds of golf to count. Written indelibly with a Sharpie on the right side of the formerly white band were the first few letters of his last name; the rest had been obscured by months of perspiration. On the opposite facing side of the inside of the cap were the numbers 203-263, the first few letters of his Connecticut phone number, written into the band so that, if Marc had been foolish enough to leave it somewhere, the finder of the disgusting head gear would call to return it. The rest of the phone number, like most of his name, had been obscured with use. Marc never left that damn cap anywhere. Much to the chagrin of his wife, Karen, Marc wore the cap everywhere he went."

 

.......

​

"Eva would only date men she considered her equal, intellectually and physically. Constrained by those conditions, her dating pool was quite shallow. After all, she was one of the most intelligent, worldly and attractive women in Manhattan, and one of the most accomplished. A girlfriend who got close enough to know, told Eva her men divided neatly into two categories: “Men who just can’t match your expectations so they’re shot down before they even step foot in the arena, and men who pass the entry requirements but end up intimidated by your success, wealth, and beauty.” Eva laughed at her friend’s assessment – but she didn’t disagree."

​

.......

 

"Despite his generous salary, beautiful car, and use of the 9,600-foot home on the northern banks of the southern fork of the Long Island Sound, Rolando wanted more. Mario would have given his chef anything he wanted, partly in exchange for Rolando’s turning a blind eye to the telltale signs of Mario’s indiscretions Rolando had stumbled upon over the years. But Rolando wanted more, so Rolando sold dope."

 

.......

​

"Ben and his friends were pouring screwdrivers and mimosas. They considered these “sophisticated drinks” that showed they were of a higher social ilk than the local Hamptons boys – the townies – who knocked back Budweiser at the local Hook House. Not wanting to seem uncool, the girls joined in, sipping exotic cocktails just as they’d observed their parents do on their family island holidays. And they did so with a high degree of pretention, though these spoiled socialite trust fund brats had nothing to be pretentious about. Not one of them had a summer job; they all went shopping and lunching with limitless access to mommy and daddy’s credit cards."

​

.......

​

"The Sheik was in New York and staying at the Plaza, directly across the street from Wilson Everson. He kept an odd schedule, preferring not to deviate from Saudi time. Accordingly, he insisted that all meetings be conducted in the middle of the night, New York time. The Sheik believed this gave him a competitive advantage during negotiations with sleepy business rivals and he was probably right. His nocturnal schedule also supported an active social life; the Sheik was a zealous partier. Alertness at night was a necessary attribute for navigating the New York dance clubs where he drank, snorted coke, and indulged in other sins prohibited in his own world."

​

.......

​

"If she could realize all the possibilities she envisioned, Eva could see herself spending much of her time on the ship, planning itineraries far in advance and making the ship her home when she was not actively trying cases for her pharmaceutical clients. These days, most pretrial preparation work that was done – including writing and responding to discovery requests, exchanging hostile letters with opposing counsel, and virtually everything other than arguing in court – was done remotely anyway. There was no reason why it couldn’t be done from her comfortable confines aboard the world’s first communally-owned mega yacht."

​

.......

​

"Roxanne slithered into a seat at the butcher block table in the kitchen while Rolando whipped up her favorite Saturday breakfast – an egg white omelet with broccoli, mushrooms, red peppers, onions, and flax seed. Although Roxanne was not at all heavy, she shared with most American 18-year-old girls an unhealthy obsession about her weight. Her parents were not concerned. While the girls claimed to be skipping meals and eating sparingly, Janice frequently found Shake Shack wrappers, and crushed pizza boxes in the garbage can, and that made her happy. It reassured her that there were no demonstrable concerns of anorexia with her daughters."

 

.......

​

"Frank’s voice trailed off. There really was no way he could finish that sentence. 

Saying anything else would only bury him deeper in the hole they both knew he was in. Jenna felt sick – literally sick to her stomach. This handsome, successful, charismatic man she and her sister had known for over thirty years and both dated – but her sister had won in marriage – was screwing the nanny in Mindy’s marital bed. Jenna felt a tightness in her chest and could sense bile rolling up towards the back of her throat. She just had to get out of the house, which she did without any further words to Frank, or to that slut nanny who was probably drying herself at that very moment in Mindy’s monogrammed Wamsuttas."

​

.......

​

"Costs for the running of the ship would not be insignificant. Eva set about calculating them, albeit roughly. Annual dockage fees would cost around $450,000, insurance would be in the $290,000 range. A reserve had to be established for maintenance and repairs – that’d run millions per year. A captain’s salary would be around $260,000 per year and a crew of 120 would also command salaries totaling in the millions. Fuel costs alone could exceed $800,000 per year … and the expenses went on and on. But on this day, at this moment, all Eva cared about was that she needed $270 million dollars to pay to Mitsubishi Marine and the Sheik on October 16th.  

She knew she’d get it."

​

.......

​

"Marc raised his son, Alexander, to be a Yankees fan as well. Although Alex was only a young boy during the Yankees’ 1995 to 2009 dynasty, Marc indoctrinated him with stories of Yankees lore and took Alex on frequent trips to the stadium to see the “Core Four” of Andy Pettitte, Jorge Posada, Derek Jeter, and Mariana Rivera play outstanding baseball night after night, capturing the hearts of the city. But it was to no avail. By the time Alex turned twelve, he had become a Mets fan. To his credit, he weathered the decades of squandered potential from those blue and orange squads that were always predicted to contend for a division championship, yet usually finished with barely more wins than they had losses. All that losing had a silver lining though. Alex learned the importance of being true to a cause he believed in. While his father beamed at the thought of another Yankees playoff or World Series, Alex was content to root for next year . . . and the year after that, while his schoolmates made fun of him."