Page 127 of Ship Wrecked

“Shut up, assholes, I want to make some toasts before the episode starts!” Carah shouted from across the large den. “Get your drinks and take your fucking seats!”

As they’d agreed to do months before, the cast—minus Ian, naturally—had gathered to experience the series finale ofGods of the Gatestogether, in privacy, where they could rail and lament and cackle gleefully to their hearts’ content. And now, after a group takeout dinner, they were all claiming comfortable spots in front of Alex’s huge television, ready to watch the forthcoming literal and character-arc carnage.

After a few toasts, evidently.

“To my darling Summer, whose Lavinia spinoff is going to be the biggest goddamn hit StreamUs has ever had,” Carah called out, lifting her glass of champagne in Summer’s direction. “Guaranteed blockbuster, babe.”

Startled, Peter studied Carah more closely. He wasn’t certain he’d ever heard her saymy darlingin such a caressing way. Andcome to think of it, hadn’t Carah and Summer shared a room at that Napa outing?

Maria glanced up at Peter and raised her brows.

“Thanks, hon,” Summer said, smiling sweetly.

Carah moved to stand beside Summer’s armchair. “No offense, Marcus, but I never understood why Dido went for Aeneas when she could have had Lavinia instead.”

Then Carah ducked down, cupped Summer’s jaw, and gave her former on-screen rival a long, enthusiastic kiss as a chorus of whistles rose to a deafening din.

“I take full credit for this,” Alex announced to the room at large from where he lay on the couch, his head in Lauren’s lap. “I knew sending them that consentacles fic where Lavinia lovingly rails Dido with her tentacle before they swim off to Greece or wherever would do the trick.”

After one last stroke of her—new? Or just newly revealed?—girlfriend’s cheek, Carah straightened as Summer beamed up at her.

“To Alex, myUnleashedcohost and beloved asshole.” Carah raised her glass again. “Stay chaotic, my friend. And pray Lauren continues putting up with your annoying ass, because that patient bitch deserves either some fucking hazard pay or sainthood.”

Lauren’s voice was as dry as the Santa Ana winds. “As my first miracle, I managed to convince him not to send a bouquet of fish-shaped helium balloons to Ian’s house tonight, along with an oversized banner congratulating him on seven years of successfully endangering the world’s tuna population.”

When Alex smirked up at her provokingly, she lightly tugged on a lock of his hair.

“To Asha, our very own Jane motherfucking Bond!” Cheers broke out as Carah hoisted her glass high. “I can’t wait to watch you fuck your way through most of Europe’s male population inbetween speedboat chases and murdering people in creative yet bloodthirsty ways, you talented bitch!”

“Correction, my dear Carah.” Asha’s smile was wicked. “Notjustthe male population.”

The two women high-fived.

“I’m singing the theme song.” Asha’s boyfriend tugged her onto his lap. “Although they’re objecting to my lyrics forOctodicky. Apparently there were focus group complaints.”

After pausing a moment to stare at him, Carah shook her head and spun to face Mackenzie.

“To Mackenzie and Whiskers, theNew York Times–bestselling coauthors of the first-ever memoir written through cat-human telepathy:Here and Meow: A Cat’s Life.” Another raise of her glass, this time directed to where Mackenzie cuddled Whiskers on her lap. “May your telepathic connection remain clear, your sales brisk as fuck, and your self-grooming habits unshared, unless Mac unexpectedly needs to raise money from fetish videos.”

“Thank you, Carah. We’re so grateful to—” Stopping suddenly, Mackenzie lifted her cat so they stared at each other face-to-face. “What’s that, Whiskers? You want to hear the lyrics?Because you’re wondering how Teddy wrote a catchy song about a villain with eight penises?”

To be fair, Peter imagined they were all wondering that. Why not the cat too?

Asha’s boyfriend shrugged. “Sure. I’ll sing it for you later, Mac— er, Whiskers. I think you’ll be surprised by the poignancy of the chorus.”

Alex sneezed violently enough that they all jumped. After blotting his nose and eyes with a tissue, he cast Whiskers a narrow-eyed glare. Discreetly, Lauren passed him an allergy pill and a glassof water, which he guzzled before tugging her down and whispering in her ear.

Whatever he said, it turned her cheeks pink and her smile uncharacteristically giddy.

Knowing Alex, it probably involved pegging somehow.

“To Marcus.” Carah’s smile turned soft. “My closest colleague for so many years, and my dear friend. May you find roles and projects that make you proud as hell, and may your adaptation of theAeneidblow away every single fucker who sees it. Also, may you avoid media questions about whether it’s a fix-it fic in film form, because it totally is, dude.”

“Since you and Summer are starring in it, it’ll be amazing.” Marcus poked April in the ribs, but it didn’t stop her from laughing at him. “And it’s not a fix-it fic in film form, per se. More... uh, an exploration of Aeneas’s character that hews a little more closely to Virgil’s work thanGates. For instance, Dido will not call herself acrazy undead bitch coming for Aeneas’s assbefore setting fire to his fleet of ships.”

Truly, capturing Virgil’s tale more accurately shouldn’t prove too challenging.

Carah might be disappointed by that accuracy, however. When she’d filmed the fleet-burning scene, she’d enjoyed herself immensely.

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