The moment we stepped fully inside, I understood why people talked about Royal Tides all year.
The yacht was ridiculous.
Not in a flashy, tasteless way.
In a way that made you realize somebody had spent an obscene amount of money making sure every single detail looked perfect.
Golden light spilled from crystal chandeliers suspended above the massive hall.
A curved glass staircase wound upward toward the second deck.
Music drifted through the air from a live orchestra positioned near one side of the room.
Waiters moved effortlessly through the crowd, carrying silver trays filled with champagne and appetizers that looked expensive.
Beyond the glass walls, the Thames reflected hundreds of city lights.
The dark water glittered beneath the night sky.
For a second, even I had to stop a
