Chad.

Paul’s dad’s yacht was the best place we’d ever partied. Partly because it was large and luxurious with all the amenities we could think of. But mostly because Paul’s dad kept it stocked with high-end liquor, and Paul kept it stocked with babes and roofies. And cocaine.

I did a snort off some blonde who was nearly bouncing out of her bikini bra. That and the Macallan scotch had me high and happy.

When Paul’s brother, Ted, came up from the ...