Shifting Gears by Jayne Rylon

like this.
    Sloan: Looks like I picked a good time to dig out my laptop. What’s going on here? Don’t you ladies have your own Cougar bait to play with?
    Darci: If it isn’t our newest superstar member. Don’t act all grumpy. We know you got banged until you were going off like a frog in a sock.
    Sloan: Please tell me that’s an Aussieism? Can someone translate?
     
    Lynn snickered from across the aisle. She whispered, “It means something similar to going bananas. You know, as if a frog got stuck in a sock.”
    Sloan chuckled. “This has to be the best group of women in the world. Thank you for introducing me. I can’t wait for the next Romanticon so we can hang out in person.”
     
    Sloan: Ah, Lynn explained, I got it now. Too funny. And, yep, that’s pretty much how it was. God, he’s amazing in bed and even better out of it. I can’t wait to hang out at the beach this afternoon. I brought a ton of books.
    Rachel: Have a great time, ladies. And, Lynn, you better fess up or we’ll do it for you soon!
    Lynn: You’re right. It’s the perfect opportunity. Let me do it my way, please. Oops, look at that. We’re pulling into the station. Gotta go. Toodles!
     
    Sloan glanced up when the train slowed. She shot Lynn a poignant look then snapped the lid of her computer closed.
    “Uh-oh, what are you two up to?” Sebastian winced when Lynn cast him a beatific smile.
    “Nothing. Why would you say that?”
    “Because I know you, mio amore .”
    Lynn leaned over to kiss him until he forgot all about the calculating glint in his fiancée’s eye.
    Sloan couldn’t be so easily distracted. What secret was the other woman keeping and how did it relate to her and Mark?
    She swore she’d find out by the time they made it back to their apartments.

Chapter Seven
     
    Sloan sighed as wind whipped her hair in front of her face. Mark stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her steady as they flew over the waves in a huge hydrofoil ferry.
    The tourist transport vessel reminded her of her earlier study in contrasts. Garbage collectors lived in their work boats in Causeway Bay, which they’d departed from, surrounded by the high-rise buildings in Hong Kong’s financial district—some of the most amazing on Earth.
    In the distance, she caught sight of a rich, green lump on the horizon. The blob quickly turned into a mixture of gray granite and lush vegetation swarmed by thousands of tiny fishing crafts, most barely bigger than a canoe. She swore she’d never seen so many boats in all her life. The bright, painted dinghies formed a mass tight enough to walk across, extending several hundred feet from the shore.
    “The fishermen have all brought their early morning catches in for the dinner rush.” Lynn spoke above the gusting air to fill her in.
    “But it’s not even lunchtime. Are there enough people living here to sustain all this?” She waved her hand toward the jumble.
    “No. A bunch of the seafood will go back on this ferry to exclusive restaurants in Hong Kong for tonight’s specials. Many of the people below deck are buyers. The ones who pay top dollar will score the cream of the crop. Though typically even the lower tiers are amazing here.” Lynn licked her lips. “I’m looking forward to including a few dining recommendations in this section of the book. We might have to taste stuff from a handful of places.”
    “Now that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Sebastian remarked. He and Mark high-fived above the women’s heads.
    Before long, they disembarked into a port filled with more bicycles and insulated boxes. Merchants lined every inch of the boardwalk. They shouted about their amazing finds, bundled on the platform. The more elaborate setups included aquariums stacked ten high to display their fish, still alive to guarantee freshness.
    The vast array of creatures had Sloan questioning how anything could be left in the ocean if they repeated this ritual day after day. She