Personal Narrative-Blood Brothers

With his perfectly fitting uniform on, Robbie resembles poster for the Navy. He continues to watch Rachel, which isn’t difficult, she’s easy on the eyes, an ultra-alluring stunning runway model with show-stopping good looks.
Robbie flashes those pearly whites as Rachel giggles, jests, enjoying playing host to Alberto, and her temptress, devilish, decadent, treasonous cousin, Tamara.
On the glass coffee table in front of them is a spread of Tomato bruschetta, black caviar, which Robbie can’t resist, Italian cuisine is the way to his heart.
****
One hour later, another glass of rather expensive, an exquisite wine that Alberto had brought from Rome is poured. Robbie is settled perched contentedly on Rachel’s leather sofa next to her. His shirt

Alberto nearly faints from the images from Robbie’s story.
“Avrei un attacco di cuore? I would have a heart attack!”
Rachel is devastated, she cries out, “Oh, sweet heavens, you could have died, Robbie!”
“This wasn’t in the news, was it?” Tamara inquired as she plots to pull every confidential event out of Robbie’s mouth.
Robbie shoots her a look, throws in the kitchen sink to his Alaskan-size bullshit session.
“I don't think so, that would really piss off taxpayers. -- A three and a half-billion-dollar Ohio class nuclear sub almost lost at sea would be hard to explain to Congress, heads would roll, including mine. After all, I am the officer in charge on board with making sure the Captain follows procedure.”
Tamara pressed with seductive savvy, “What happened, how did the ship make it to safety?”
The canary trap is set, Robbie’s home free and slams it out of the park.
Robbie thinks of the most exaggerated yarn he can muster -- he takes his time.
“This is not to be repeated, got it.”
“I won't say a word, promise.” Tamara bellowed.
“Who would I tell that would believe me, I'm a furniture designer,” Alberto

“Of course, I wouldn't repeat anything that confidential, darling.”
Robbie sips his wine, stone-faced; he makes up a whale of a yarn.
“A design flaw in the ship -- we were warned of the possibilities. In fact, we considered docking in Japan for a month while the repairs were made. However, the skipper, the scalawag that I can't stand, argued the repairs were not pressing. Man, was he wrong, his court-martial will be forthcoming soon. I hope they hang the bastard. All the same, after twelve hours, we eventually landed a break, Lady Luck showed up just in time and oh, man, were we glad she came.
Tamara, of course, interprets the word in her own little-twisted way. Robbie notices the smirk on her face.
Tamara said seductively, “She usually comes when you really need her to.”
“Sometimes you can make her come, “Alberto added.
“What are we talking about?” Rachel asked