The island

Edwin
Edwin looked at the pile of paperwork on his desk and rubbed at his eyes. It had been a really long day, and only midway through what was bound to be a long week. It had begun with his friend Danny's death two days ago, and since then the Island had been a hive of activity getting things prepared.
In a couple of days time Danny's children would arrive on the Island, having just found out that they were triplets given up for adoption, and they'd be meeting here for the very first time. On top of that he had a burial to organise for Danny on the Island. Add in organising supplies and planning for every contingency, and it was no wonder he felt exhausted. It was two in the morning and high time he had some stress relief.
He got up from his desk, winced at the pain in his back and moved to the door of his office, part of his home on the Island upstairs from the clinic, and headed for the exit, moving quietly down the stairs as was his habit. Once outside he smiled. He'd always loved the cool breeze that caressed the Island through the night.
He turned left and took the path down to the beach, taking a right between two large bushes on the narrow path the kitchen staff used to bring supplies into the kitchens. A couple of turns and he was moving around the edge of the building where the Islands food was prepared and stored, unstaffed at this time of night. He knew if anyone spotted him they'd just assume he was going for his habitual late night snack, but he knew different.
He bypassed the main doors to the kitchen and entered the small courtyard that served the dual purpose of somewhere to store the trash and somewhere the chefs and porters could sneak out to for a smoke. Casually he glanced around and seeing no-one he slipped over to the backdoor of the pastry kitchen and entered a code in the keypad, a different code from the one normally used to open the door.
A quiet bump sounded next to one of the bins and he moved to the corner, reached down and pulled the handle that was now protruding from the flagstoned yard. A small hatch appeared with a ladder heading down, barely visible in the moonlight.
He quickly slid himself into the narrow passage and closed the hidden hatch above him, seeing the dim lights illuminating the twenty three rungs below him. Reaching the bottom he turned around and punched another code into the wall and the small box beside it opened. He pressed his hand to the small screen inside the box and the door beside him swung open.
Edwin smiled in anticipation. He had a lot of catching up to do.
He entered the saferoom, or as he thought of it, the 'Bunker' where he could retreat to if the Island was ever attacked. He ignored the open plan living area and kitchen and moved straight to the door on his left, a control room where he could make contact with the outside world if need be, but his focus wasn't on the emergency facilities. He moved straight to the console housing the covert CCTV system that Danny Tripps had painstakingly built in secret over the last fifteen years.
His friends words came back to him, as they always did when he looked at the setup. "There's no point in being trapped in here. Much better to see what's going on outside. Then you retain an advantage the other side doesn't even know about. Information is power."
Edwin smiled and moved to the large leather desk chair facing the bank of fifteen screens. Three large screens, a dozen smaller, all assigned letters from A to O. The one hundred and thirty eight cameras hidden around the island were numbered, making the system incredibly simple to operate. Simply type in the letter for the screen then the camera number, hit enter and that's what you saw.
The whole system was set up on a motion-activation principle, immediately discarding data that had nothing happening and that suited Edwins purposes perfectly.
He settled his fingers on the keyboard, typed A68 and hit Enter. The first of the three large screens flickered into view, a camera situated in the bedroom of Danny's favourite PA, Patricia,. She was one of Edwin's favourites too, a hot, toned blonde with a bundle of intelligence and determination. It wasn't her intellect that interested him at present though as he watched the live feed from her vacant bedroom, his memory providing him with hundreds of images of her sleeping in that very bed.
He felt the familiar stirring in his groin and smiled. Time to move the recording back.
His fingers found the small dial next to the keyboard, punched in the camera number and then rotated it back. The simple system allowed him to review all recorded footage from that particular camera and he was viewing it in reverse. A couple of chambermaids darted around briefly at high speed, and then the footage caught up to Patricia undressing then sleeping. The footage continued in reverse at high speed, skipping past hours of her lying still. She'd been asleep for five hours or so when he saw her leap out of bed, naked, and grab a towel, then disappear backwards into the bathroom.
He reset the dial, his left hand coming to rest on his belt, and as the footage began to play on the screen he unfastened his belt and trousers.
Patricia appeared from the bathroom, her skin flushed from the shower, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, and as Edwin pulled down his fly and slid his hand in his trousers, she opened her towel.
Seeing her side on as she lifted the towel, her body taught and firm, her breasts pert and round, Edwin slipped his hand around his cock, slowly stroking himself as he watched her dry herself. She moved too quickly for him though, drying herself rapidly then slipping under the sheet on her bed, settling down to go to sleep.
Edwin frowned and punched in B69, bringing up the footage from the en-suite bathroom in Patricia's room. He punched 69 in next to the dial and rolled it back, seeing her in a high-speed blur in the shower, moving it back to play as soon as the maid appeared who'd cleaned the bathroom earlier.
While he stroked himself in anticipation the maid finished her work, the lighting changed and Patricia appeared. Dressed only in a black thong, she walked up to the sink, her gorgeous breasts on display and as she brushed her teeth, Edwin zoomed the camera in on her breasts, stroking himself as he watched them jiggle back and forth with every motion of her arm.
"Come on, you hot bitch," he muttered. "Get in the fucking shower."
The teeth brushing continued for another minute and then she disappeared off screen, so Edwin zoomed the view back out, seeing her step into the shower cubicle. The water began immediately and he slowed the footage down as she stepped out the cubicle to remove her thong. In slow motion she inserted her thumbs in her waistband and bent over, sliding the black material down her hips, thighs and finally to the floor, and with a casual flick of her foot, the thong ended up back in the bedroom.
Edwins grip tightened on his cock. She always did this before she went in the shower. Always. He zoomed in a little closer.
Patricia stood up straight and stretched, her arms rising high above her head, her breasts jutting out. Edwin groaned, licking his lips in anticipation of what came next. Her right hand slid down over her taught, flat stomach, sliding down over her shaved skin until her middle finger made contact with her clitoris.
"Go on, you fucking slut," he muttered, his fist pumping as he watched.
Patricia's middle finger rubbed her clit up and down a couple of times, then in slow-motion, she moved it down her slit, rubbed up and down once, then plunged her middle finger deep inside her pussy.
"Fuck that dirty unwashed cunt, you whore," Edwin growled. His fist was pumping furiously on his cock now, loving what he saw on the screen.
Patricia dipped her finger in and out three times, and as Edwin zoomed the view back out, he smiled wickedly as she raised the finger to her lips and sucked it into her mouth, her head tilted back.
"That's a good slut," He grunted.
She stepped forward into the shower, and Edwin stroked his cock, watching the hot water sluicing down the curves of her body. "Come on, you dirty bitch. Do it." His fist was pumping rapidly up and down on his cock, his eyes fixated on the screen.
Patricia turned in the shower and squatted down, her back against the wall. Edwin smiled and zoomed the camera in, framing her as her legs came up and her buttocks rested on the shower floor. He could see her pussy, her asshole, tits and face and he felt his heart lift in excitement.
"Go on. Get busy."
She tilted one hip and her left hand appeared under her ass, her index finger rubbing at her brown puckered hole.
"Do it, slut," Edwin muttered.
Her right hand appeared between her legs, her fingertips brushing against her clit. Her mouth was open in anticipation, Edwin mirroring her expression on screen. Suddenly she slid two fingers into her pussy, plunging them in deep and her body stiffened in pleasure.
Edwin smiled. "And now the ass, you filthy little whore."
Patricia's finger that had been rubbing gently at her ass suddenly pushed, forcing her up to the first knuckle in that tightest of places. He watched as her expression turned nasty and she pushed harder, sinking the finger in her ass and the two in her pussy as deep as they would go. Her breathing was fast now, as intense as the expression on her face.
Edwin realised he was strangling his cock, his grip was so tight, so he eased up the pressure a fraction and continued stroking at a frantic pace, his free hand pulling his black shirt up around his shoulders in anticipation.
Patricia began to plunge her fingers deep inside herself, fucking both her holes at once with vigour, and Edwin's fist pumped up and down his cock, imagining it was his cock going in and out of her ass like that.
She paused for a second, adding a second finger to her asshole and a third to her pussy, then pushing hard, she slid them all back in again.
"Fucking filthy bitch," he snarled, knowing what was coming next, feeling his balls begin to tighten in anticipation.
Patricia's fingers were plunging in and out of her ass and cunt, as hard and fast as she could physically manage, and then her entire body stiffened and her head smacked back hard against the wall of the shower as she came.
Her fingers flew out her holes, all of them going rapidly into her wide open mouth, and as Edwin watched her suck on them, he saw her pussy twitching as she came and her ass opening and closing in glorious, exquisite detail. He came too.
Hot cum splattered out his cock onto his stomach, one spurt and a second, the remainder flopping and dripping onto his pelvis, matting his grey pubic hair, coating his hand.
Patricia's mouth closed, sucking hard on those fingers that had been deep inside her wet pussy, her tight ass, her brow furrowed and her cheeks rosy as her orgasm washed over her.
"Fucking dirty little whore," Edwin panted, his eyes glued to the screen as his hand fondled his sticky cock.
Patricia recovered quickly, her fingers leaving her mouth only to quickly tweak her nipples once, then she stood, rinsed herself off, washed her hands and turned the shower off.
Edwin leaned in the chair, panting and grinning as she left the shower. "Filthy fucking whore," he muttered. Idly he wondered who he'd stroke off to tomorrow morning. Over the last decade his habit had sat him in this chair and made him stroke off to movie stars, musicians, models, hundreds of gorgeous women unknowingly recorded in their most intimate of moments while visiting the Island as guests of Danny. And Edwin had them all recorded and stored. All for his personal pleasure.
"Maybe the Doctor," he muttered. "Or maybe I'll get that slut to dress up for me again. Some new fodder arriving soon though." He smiled, having seen the files of the three triplets. The two girls were hot. He was looking forward to seeing both of them in the most exquisite of detail.
Edwin carefully lowered his shirt over his cum-splattered stomach then fastened up his trousers and belt, trapping the cooling semen against his skin. Carefully he stood up and walked to the exit, feeling it oozing down his stomach. He smiled, loving the feeling, the scent of his own cum, especially if he bumped into anyone outside. He'd deliberately hold them in conversation, just to see if they'd notice the smell. Few did, none of them figured it out though.
He left the 'Bunker' and entered the kitchen, taking the sandwich that the Chef always left out for him, munching on it as he walked back to his apartment above the clinic.
Kyle
The phone rang on Kyle's desk. He frowned, not needing the interruption. For the last three days he'd been working twelve hours trying to get the recommendation done for his company to purchase EDIT, an electronic records management application and he was nearly there.
"Hello. Kyle Watson, Business Strategy Team. Can I help you?" He replied, the standard answer whenever an internal call came through to his desk.
"It's Reception. There's a Mister Crowler here to see you. Says he's a lawyer."
Kyle frowned. "I don't have him in my diary."
"He says it's urgent that he speak with you," The security guy at reception stated.
"Em, okay. I'll be right down."
"Cheers." The other end of the line went dead.
Kyle headed for the elevator, the frown still creasing his features, wondering why a lawyer would be coming to see him. There was nothing legal he was involved in at work, he knew he was a pretty well behaved guy, and he knew he was up to date on his loan payments and all that.
He entered the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor, leaning against the wall as he tried to think of a single reason why a lawyer would be wanting to see him, but by the time the doors opened and he reached the reception desk, he still hadn't come up with one.
"He's in there," The portly security guy grunted, poking a thumb in the direction of one of the vacant meeting rooms HR used for interviews.
Kyle looked over, seeing an elderly man, around the age of retirement, but there was something very sharp about him. Maybe the slicked back white hair, or the black suit, shirt and tie, but from his initial glance, Kyle wouldn't be surprised to find out that this guy was Lucifers lawyer. He had that supremely confident look about him.
His frown still on his face, Kyle opened the door. "Hi. I'm Kyle Watson. Can I help you with something?"
The lawyer immediately stood offering a surprisingly warm handshake. "I'm Mister Crowler, Kyle. Thankyou for agreeing to meet with me at such short notice."
"Sure," Kyle said, closing the door and taking a seat opposite the old man. "Do you mind if you tell me straight away what it is you want? We've got three of the Company Directors in the building today, so it's kinda busy upstairs."
The old man nodded.
"Very well. I'm sure you're wondering why a lawyer has turned up out of the blue to see you. It involves an inheritance from a relative and you're one of the listed beneficiaries."
Kyle's eyes widened at the lawyers words. "Oh."
"Not what you were expecting?" Mister Crowler asked, an eyebrow raised at the expression on Kyle's face.
"I didn't know what to expect, but this wasn't even on the list," Kyle admitted. "Who are we talking about here? I don't know of any relatives of mine that have died." He frowned as he thought about it. "Not in the last few years anyway. Are you sure I'm the right Kyle Watson?"
"I'm absolutely sure." The lawyers confident expression left Kyle in little doubt, confusing him further.
"So.. Em... Who died?" Kyle nodded.
"For that you'll have to bear with me for a few moments while I show you a few files," Mister Crowler said, flicking open his briefcase and removing several Manilla files, placing them on the desk in front of him. The old mans fingers tapped for a few seconds on the files before he cleared his throat.
"Kyle, you are twenty three years old, born on the 19th of March, correct?" The lawyer's tone was precise, factual, and Kyle nodded.
"Yeah."
"What I am about to tell you may come as a bit of a shock, so please bear with me." He flicked open the first file, containing several photos. The first was a black and white image of three babies, wrapped in blankets and woolen hats and they looked like they were only a day old.
"Babies," Kyle said aloud, knowing he was stating the obvious, but if he had fifty guesses at what was inside the manilla folders, a baby picture wouldn't have even crossed his mind.
"Correct," Mister Crowler replied. "This is a photograph taken of a set of triplets several hours after they were born on the 19th of March, twenty three and a half years ago, Kyle."
Kyle's eyes shot up to the old man's, but the lawyers gaze was fixed on the photo. His finger tapped the baby on Kyle's left.
"This baby was named Katarina." His finger moved to tap on the infant on the right. "This one was named Kara, and the one in the middle was named Kyle."
"Yeah, I think you've got the wrong Kyle, buddy," He said immediately. "I don't have any sisters, or twins, or whatever." He kept quiet the realisation that the central baby did look like him in his own baby photos, but Kyle wasn't convinced. Babies all looked the same to him anyway.
"Please, bear with me," The lawyer said firmly, moving the photograph to one side. Underneath the photo was a stack of papers, and Kyle could see Adoption Certificate written on the top one. His fingers deftly rotated the document so Kyle could read it.
His eyes met the lawyers a few seconds later. "I don't know anything about this documentation. I couldn't tell you if it's real or false. I know I'm not adopted though."
"Is this your birth certificate, Kyle?" Mister Crowler said, sliding another document in front of Kyle.
He checked and nodded, frowning as he wondered why the hell this lawyer could have a copy of what looked like his own birth certificate. "Could be, but I don't know how you have it."
The lawyer flicked another document next to the birth certificate. "This is a name change by deed poll that accompanies the adoption certificate," He continued in the factual, clinical and emotionless tone, flicking another two documents in front of Kyle. "And this is your original birth certificate."
Kyle forced himself to look carefully at what was in front of him. He knew that his own birth certificate was correct and couldn't see anything on it that was strange or unusual, so he began to read the name change document, and compared it with the adoption certificate. He could feel a knot in his stomach as he failed to find any inconsistencies, and with reluctance, he looked at the original birth certificate.
He read the name of the baby on the certificate and his eyes immediately shot up to the lawyers face, seeing an expression of sadness there, perhaps even a hint of empathy at the young man sitting opposite him whose very foundation was being pulled out from under him.
"The... The surname?" Kyle stammered.
Mister Crowler didn't say anything. He simply slid another photograph across the table, this time of the three infants, cradled in their fathers arms. It was a younger version of a familiar face, known the world over. For the past few days it had never been off the news. Kyle looked at the certificate again, seeing the surname. Tripps.
He re-read the name of the person listed as the father. Danny Tripps.
Kyle looked back at the lawyer. "Seriously?"
Mister Crowler nodded. "Finding out that you're adopted must be a big shock, Kyle. Finding out your father was Danny Tripps must be just as big."
Kyle shook his head. It didn't make sense to him, this lawyer claiming he was adopted, let alone this absurd claim that Danny fucking Tripps, one of the wealthiest men in America, was his supposed father. A thought struck him.
"Did Ed put you up to this?" Kyle had two best friends, Ed and Casey. While Casey worked upstairs with him, their friend Ed worked as an illustrator on comic books, but was forever trying to punk them with practical jokes. This seemed right up his street, especially four days after the world found out Danny Tripps had died of cancer.
The lawyers expression turned serious. "Kyle, I assure you this is no joke. There is more information here for you, including a letter from Mister Tripps."
"A letter?" Kyle smiled, convinced this was the work of his buddy. He chuckled. "Let's see it then."
The old man frowned but opened the second file and pulled out an envelope, the paper rich and luxurious. Kyle didn't recognise the handwriting on the front, but he opened it up and unfolded the letter.
Kyle,
I imagine you're in a bit of turmoil right now. Try not to give Mr Crowler a hard time -- he's a good man and a good friend who's been stuck with a hard job.
Anyway, you've just found out I'm your father. Danny Tripps, billionaire, celebrity, playboy, entrepreneur, business genius, etc. I'm sorry to say that it's true, Kyle. And you deserve an explanation.
Twenty six years ago I met a wonderful woman named Karen, we fell in love and were soon married. I started my own business making computers and doing some programming, and soon my wife fell pregnant. Life was bliss. Then the business boomed, some of the software I'd written made me a small fortune and within months I was employing hundreds of people. The business side of things isn't important now, but a few more months passed and it was time to go to the hospital.
Karen gave birth to three infants, triplets, a month early, two girls and a boy, but immediately began to have complications. She was rushed into surgery, but it was no good. Just like that, the love of my life died. She was twenty five years old. She would have been a great mother.
I knew nothing about raising kids, and I was so overwhelmed with grief that the only thing I could think of was to throw myself into my work. Anything to get away from the pain. A doctor suggested offering you and your sisters up for adoption. I agreed, thinking it was the best for you. It was the biggest regret of my life. At the time though, it was the best decision I could have made.
You and your sisters were put with loving families, raised in nurturing and healthy environments, and despite my promise not to, I kept tabs on you all, helping out in little ways whenever I could. Scholarships, jobs and the like. I know it's not parenting, but you and your sisters are the only family I have, even if we've never met.
And that brings us round to the present. As I write this I'm dying. If you're reading this, then I'm already gone and you might have even heard about it on the news. Which brings me round to the point of all this. For twenty five years I've been building a business, an empire some would say, and along the way, tens of thousands of people have come to rely on me to keep their companies afloat, keep their jobs in place so they can raise their own families. It's a responsibility that I take seriously, which may well sound ironic to you, given that I haven't taken responsibility for raising my own children.
I'd like you to meet your sisters, Katarina and Kara. I'd like the three of you to get to know each other. All that I have now belongs to the three of you. My inheritance. I'm told it's quite a sum.
Mister Crowler will give you the details on what happens next, but here's the clip notes. Go to my Island in the Caribbean, get to know your sisters, learn a bit about what's being asked of you and decide what you want to do.
Along the way you might even get to know a little more about me.
In hope and love,
Danny Tripps
Kyle looked at the date on the letter, noting it was only two weeks old.
Gone were the doubts that this was Ed's work. This really wasn't his style at all. The knot in his stomach was twisting as he realised he'd have to make a call and speak to his parents. He had to ask.
"Would you excuse me for a couple of minutes, Mister Crowler. I need to make a call." Kyle saw the old man nod, but he was already on his way out the door. He moved on autopilot out the front doors of the building and onto the street, crowded with the usual mixture of coffee-toting office workers, shopping housewives and tourists and stepped into a doorway. He dialled.
"Hey, honey."
"Hi, Mom," Kyle replied, trying to keep his voice relaxed and casual. "Listen, I need to ask you something."
"Okay, honey, but you'll have to be quick. Your father and I are just about to leave," She replied. Kyle could hear a car door close in the background.
"Oh, right. Today's the hiking trip, right?"
He heard his Mom sigh down the phone. "I swear Kyle, you never pay attention."
He took a deep breath. "Mom, I need you to listen to me here, okay. I just had a visit at work from a lawyer called Mister Crowler."
Kyle paused as he heard his mother shout on his father. "Ben, you need to be in on this," He heard her say. "Okay, son. What did he say?"
"Mom, Dad. I've got to ask you. Am I adopted?" Kyle had his free hand held flat over his free ear, listening more intensely than he ever had in his life.
The silence that stretched into seconds on the other end of the line added to the sinking feeling in Kyle's stomach.
"Son, it's me," Kyle heard as his Dad came on the phone, his tone gentle. "It's true, son. We adopted you when you were only a few days old. I'm sorry you've found out like this. Do you want to meet up and talk about it? I can come and pick you up?"
Kyle pressed his face into the corner of the doorway, trying to think. It was true, he was adopted. His mind whirled with a myriad of emotions, feeling like his world had just been turned upside down, so he took several deep breaths, and thought about what he knew. His friends were his friends. His parents had kept this whopping big secret, but they'd raised him and been there for twenty three years for him. Did it really matter that they weren't linked by DNA? The thought helped him clear his head a little and he sighed.
After a moment he replied. "No, it's okay, and don't get all worried, okay. I know you're my parents, I know you're my Mom and Dad, you raised me and nothing's going to change that, okay?"
He could almost hear the relief in the tones of their replies, so he pressed ahead.
"Thing is, I've found out a little about who I was before I was adopted," Kyle added, not quite sure how to proceed with this bit. He opted for directness. "How much do you know about that?"
There was a hushed, whispered conversation at the other end of the line that ended abruptly after a few more seconds.
"We know who your birth father was, honey," Kyle's Mom said a moment later. "Do you?"
Kyle swallowed. "Yeah, I think so." His mouth was dry but he made himself say the words. "Danny Tripps, right?"
"That's right, son," His Dad said quietly. "We weren't supposed to know, but we did."
"Has he left you something in his will?" His Mom asked. "Is that why the lawyer is there?"
"Em, I think so," Kyle said, feeling more than a little nauseous now. "Listen, they're telling me I have sisters."
"What?" Both his parents replied at the same time.
"That I have sisters. Twins," He replied. "Well, actually triplets, but I'm one of them, apparently."
"Kyle, son, we had no idea," His Dad said, and Kyle knew deep inside that he was telling the truth. "Sisters?"
"Two of them," Kyle confirmed. "They want me to go and meet them."
"Then you should go," His Dad replied immediately.
"Absolutely," His Mom added. "Are you alright, honey?"
"Bit shell-shocked, I guess," Kyle replied. "Listen, I've got to head back in there. Are you guys okay?"
"Yeah, son, don't worry about us," His Dad answered. "We'll stick around here for a few days, I think. Why don't you come round for dinner tonight or before it you want, we'll have a chat."
Kyle frowned. "No, you should go on your trip. You two have been planning it for months." Every time Kyle visited his folks they had maps up of the areas of Canada they were hiking through and he knew they had various locations booked for the occasional night in a hotel and if they set off late they'd lose their reservations. "Honestly, I'm okay. You should go on your trip, and besides, I can call you if I need to. You guys can call me too, okay?"
Kyle could almost hear them silently discussing it with looks and gestures at the other end of the phone, something they'd done for as far back as he could remember.
"You sure, son?"
"Yeah, Dad. You and Mom go on your trip."
"You sure you're not pissed at us for not telling you?" His Dad asked bluntly, as was his way.
Kyle sighed. "Honestly, Dad. I'm not angry. I'm a bit shocked, and I can't say I won't be angry in the future, but if I get angry I know where to find you."
"That you do, son," His father replied. "You just pick up that phone and we'll come right back so you can vent your fury for as long as you need."
"Can I just ask, why didn't you tell me?"
"There was never a good time for it, honey," His Mom replied. "How do you bring something like that up in conversation?"
"Besides, you would have asked who your parents were, and we would have had to lie directly to your face, son," His Dad added. "We just couldn't figure out how to tell you."
"Fair enough," Kyle said, managing to sound calm while inside he just wanted to vanish somewhere quiet so he could process it all. "Have a good trip."
"Love you, honey."
"Love you too," Kyle finished and ended the call. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and walked back in to see what else the lawyer had to say.
"Everything okay, Mister Watson?" Mister Crowler asked as Kyle sat back down.
"I don't know if I'd describe it as okay," Kyle said a moment later. "Right, I've spoken to my parents."
"So you know I'm telling the truth then?"
Kyle swallowed and nodded. "Bit of a shock."
"I believe you. Shall I continue?"
"Might as well," Kyle replied.
"As he mentioned in the letter, Mister Tripps did his best to keep a discrete eye on you and your sisters while you were growing up, and he kept private files with the information for an occasion such as this. As he also said, we'd like you to come to Mister Tripps private Island, where you can meet your sisters and get to know each other without any of the constraints and pressures of the outside world."
"What does that mean?" Kyle asked.
"Pressures and so forth?" The old man asked. Kyle nodded, so he continued. "To give you one example, Mister Tripps was a very recognisable public figure with a long ongoing relationship with the press."
Kyle nodded, having seen him at movie premieres, award shows, chat shows and in the papers too.
"The press are already making enquiries about who will inherit the vast fortune of the Tripps Empire, and sooner or later someone will remember him in a hospital twenty three years ago and either do some digging, or simply open their mouth on their favourite social networking site. In todays instant-media world, it's only a matter of hours or days before you and your sisters get tracked down and beseiged by the media."
"You're shitting me," Kyle blurted. "Seriously? That's what you think is going to happen?"
Mister Crowler blinked. "That is what will happen, Kyle. We have experience with this."
"I would have thought they'd....." Kyle trailed off, thinking about it, and he knew that the old man was right in what he was saying. There would be a media frenzy, and he'd be right in the middle of it. "Fuck me sideways."
"I see we're on the same page, Kyle."
"I guess so," he replied unhappily. "So what happens now?"
"There should be a car outside for you. There's a private jet due to arrive in," He glanced at his watch, a polished silver pocket watch, then dropped it back in his pocket. "Nine hours time, that's half past eight tonight. Take-off will be around nine o'clock and the flight from San Antonio to Guadeloupe Island, the nearest airport to the Island, is around seven hours. From there you'll take a boat for an hour to the Island itself, so you should be there at around sunrise."
"Overnight journey?" Kyle asked, frowning. "It sounds exhausting."
"Unfortunately we have to get all three of you to the Island as soon as possible, so it's unavoidable on this occasion. However." The old man paused. "At the airport will be a woman named Patricia, an Executive Assistant to Mister Tripps with many years experience. She'll be your liaison, your point of contact and your assistant for the duration of your trip."
"Why do I need an assistant?" Kyle asked.
"Because you'll have a lot of questions," The old man said simply. "Now, Patricia is very good at her job and she'll be a real asset to you, so make sure you rely upon her."
"We'll see," Kyle replied, knowing he still wasn't sure if he was going to go to this Island at all. The idea of buggering off with his folks seemed appealing, despite his well-known aversion to hiking.
"In between now and tonight you'll have a driver to look after you. Her name is Caroline, I'm assured she's very good, and she'll have a few forms for you to complete. I also have this for you."
The old man slid an envelope over the table. Kyle opened it and emptied the contents. A Visa card, a Mastercard, a clear envelope with cash in it and a small keyfob.
"What's all this?"
"The credit cards are for you to purchase some suitable clothing for your trip, the cash for if you don't want to use your credit cards or if you need to tip, and the keyfob is a personal alarm," The old man explained. "If you push the red button, a security team will converge on your location and extract you from any situation or threat in the vicinity."
"Like bodyguards?" Kyle asked, shaking his head. "This is too surreal."
"I'd imagine there will be many surreal moments in the days to come," The old man replied.
"Pin numbers for the cards?" Kyle asked, picking them up and looking at them. They seemed almost holographic.
"The year of your birth. We can change that tomorrow for you."
"I suppose they've got like a twenty grand limit or something extravagant like that?" Kyle laughed.
"Not quite, no." Mister Crowler smiled. "I believe they're somewhere in excess of a couple of hundred thousand dollars, but they were set up in a hurry, so we'll get that straightened out too in the next few days."
Kyle snorted with laughter.
"Another surreal moment?" The lawyer asked, his expression blank.
"Something like that."
"So I've got a driver, a load of credit and cash and a goon-squad on standby, just to cover me for nine hours until I catch a plane to an Island paradise?"
"Not a plane, a private jet, but yes, close enough," he nodded.
"Fucking hellfire," Kyle said quietly, the laughter and incredulity of the moment stopped. "So do I just go back to my desk until I finish work now? What happens?"
"Oh, good lord, no," Mister Crowler replied, looking taken aback for the first time. "Mister Tripps actually owns this company, although it's not widely known. However, no, you don't need to return to your desk. In fact you don't need to return to it ever again if you so choose."
"What about my boss?" Kyle asked. "Sometimes he's a real dick, and I don't want him to throw a bitch fit."
"Kyle," The old lawyer said, leaning forward across the table. "It'll take a while to get your head round some of the changes that are going to happen to your life in the next few days, weeks and months. However, if your boss is, as you put it, a real dick, then you can always deal with it by coming back here in a few weeks and firing him."
"Good point actually."
"Now then, onto the last file," The old man said, gathering the other documentation away.
"What's in this one?"
"Your sisters."
Kyle felt that cold sinking feeling in his stomach again and suddenly his mouth was dry. He realised he was craving a cigarette again, and had been for some time, which was unusual as he'd quit nearly a year ago and hadn't had a craving in seven or eight months.
"Okay, let's see them," Kyle said, feeling a hint of excitement and fear at the thought of having sisters and wanting to find out who they were.
The lawyer opened the folder and slid two photographs across the table and Kyle's breathing almost stopped. His face turned white.
"Is everything okay, Kyle?" The old lawyer asked as Kyle stared at the photographs on the table. "You've gone a little pale."
In a voice barely above a whisper, Kyle said, "Oh, fuck, please let this be a joke."
Three Years Ago
Kyle Watson smiled. It had been an epic weekend so far.
Spring Break with his buddies hadn't really been something he was looking forward to, particularly as their destination was Myrtle Beach. Not exactly Cancun, Miami or Acopulco, but then, they weren't there for the sun. They were there to party.
Party they had, Kyle wearily observed. They'd arrived on the Friday morning, got drunk and partied with some chicks from University of Phoenix all night, but Ed had been the only one to score. Or at least, he was the only one who claimed to score. If he actually did, Kyle knew it would have required some divine intervention.
Once they'd slept a few hours they hit the Myrtle Waves Water Park. Kyle had felt too tired to do much but lie around with his shades on, admiring the ladies that passed by in their swimwear, but Ed and Casey had immediately hit the slides. It only took half an hour for Ed to return with a limp. Casey couldn't stop laughing as he told how Ed had taken off down one of the slides after a hot girl in a bikini and had been pushing himself so fast that he flipped sideways out the slide and landed on the edge of it, narrowly missing his balls but injuring his right leg in the process.
Kyle sat with Ed and listened to him grumble about his injury while Casey did what Casey does and took off in pursuit of several girls heading for the lazy river.
"You should get your shades on, Ed," Kyle suggested. "Some of the women going past here are fine. You can really check them out."
His buddy grunted, so Kyle shrugged and put his iPod on, listening to some tunes while he admired a particularly hot MILF in a red thong and matching top strolling past.
An hour or so passed and Casey finally came back full of excitement insisting they come and meet these girls from Bekeley College, down from New York for Spring Break. He'd met them on the lazy river and had been chatting with them for the last forty minutes and they wanted to meet Kyle and Ed too.
Kyle figured it sounded like fun, so he nodded and stashed his iPod under his towel, then got up to follow Casey. Ed grumbled but joined them anyway. It took ten minutes of paddling to catch up with the four girls on the lazy river, but Casey introduced them all as Jessica, Shanice, Julietta and Margarita.
"So I take it your names are all fake then?" Kyle had laughed, getting a round of grins from the girls.
"Well, if you fine-ass bitches are using fake names, it must be for one reason, and that reason is carnal sinning," Ed said, earning a scowl from Casey. "I'm fucking right, aren't I?""What a fucking douchebag," the brunette called Julietta muttered. Kyle did the only thing he could think of to remedy the situation. He tipped over Ed's inflatable, dumping him sideways into the river.
Thankfully the girls all laughed as he came up spluttering and the tension was eased. Over the next couple of hours they hung out with the girls, Kyle mostly chatting to Julietta, Casey to Margarita, while Ed tried unsuccessfully to get chatting with Shanice and Jessica, much to everyone's amusement.
With it being late in the afternoon though, the girls announced they had to head off.
"You guys want to meet up tonight at a party we're going to? It'll be around midnight, if that's not too late," Julietta said, placing her hand on Kyle's arm.
"I think we should be out partying by then," He grinned. "Where about?"
"Meet us in Club Boca. Know where that is?"
"Sure," He nodded. "We passed it last night. You want to give me your number?"
She shook her head, but smiled. "I wouldn't hear my phone anyway. Maybe later," She said, winking.
"I'll look forward to it," Kyle replied.
As the girls got out at the steps, Kyle casually back-paddled his inflatable, watching as they got out the water. Jessica was the first out, a thin blonde with a black one-piece making her skin look very pale. Second out was Shanice, a black curvy girl with a dazzling smile and nice hips, followed by Margarita, the most tanned of the group.
Kyle smiled, knowing why Casey had hit on her. She had by far the nicest body of the group and was the tallest by a couple of inches. Long dark hair tied in a ponytail, a black bikini, tight and firm all over, and an ass that reminded him of Jennifer Lopez.
Last out was Julietta, the girl he'd spent the last couple of hours chatting with. Her multi-coloured one-piece was slashed red and gold and showed her off quite nicely. She was average height, and pretty much average build. Nice ass, bit of a nice cleavage, nice legs.
Despite there being nothing outstanding about her, Kyle found her the most attractive of the four.
Julietta turned and waved to Kyle. "Remember. Midnight."
"We'll be there," He waved back.
"Feel free to forget the douchebag," She called as she disappeared.
"The douchebag will be coming," Ed shouted loud enough for half the park to hear. Realising everyone was looking at him, he muttered,"Shit," then tipped himself into the water.
"Come on!"
"He's got the bit between his teeth on this one," Casey admitted.
"I know," Kyle grunted. Ed had been going at them non-stop for the last hour about hitting a strip club, but Kyle and Casey were reluctant.. It wasn't that Kyle was against looking at naked women writhing all over him, but it was the amount of money they'd spend.
Three times in the past couple of years the three of them had gone to strip-bars and each time Kyle and Casey had spent over two hundred bucks each, while Ed had spent everything he had, and ended up relying on his friends to get him home again afterwards. Given they were planning on hitting the clubs to meet up with the girls later, Kyle and Casey were reluctant to let Ed loose or they'd end up paying for him all night.
"It'll be fun, fuckers. Come on," Ed repeated. "We'll see some tits, some hot ass, some wet pussy. Maybe even get a couple of girls to give us a private show, know what I mean?" He winked.
Kyle knew what he meant. He meant that Ed would chip in his last twenty bucks and Kyle and Casey would have to put in a hundred each so that the three of them could sit there and feel awkward watching two chicks play with each other for a couple of minutes. Then they wouldn't have enough money to do anything else.
"Ed, we can visit strip clubs back home. I want to get laid, and that doesn't happen with strippers," Kyle pointed out. "I want to meet the girls later."
"Yeah," Cased added. "You can't control yourself in these places man."
"Alright fuckers, what do I need to do to convince you not to be lame-ass cunts and go?" Ed said quickly, his gaze darting between his two friends. Kyle could see how eager he was.
"How much money have you got left, Ed?" Kyle asked.
"Two hundred and four bucks. We fucking leave tomorrow, guys. Pickup at ten past eleven," Ed said. "Come on, let's jjust go nuts, party like mother-fuckers and leave it all out there."
"I'll go if you give me one hundred and four bucks to keep for you until after we leave the strip club," Casey said after a moment.
"What? No fucking way, cocksucker," Ed blurted. "That's my cash."
"Yeah, but Casey's got a point," Kyle argued quickly. "It's gonna cost us at least twenty bucks to get into the club, plus drinks and then a cab back here. Throw in some food tomorrow. You can't afford to spend more than a hundred in a strip bar."
"Hundred and four bucks," Casey said, holding out his hand.
"No fucking way," Ed said. "Stop being such a bunch of fucking cockblockers."
"Yeah, I'm not going unless you give the cash to Casey either," Kyle said, crossing his arms.
"Or you can go out yourself, go to the stripclub on your own, and then wait for us to get in, but we're not giving you any cash at all. Not even tomorrow," Casey added.
"Fucking bitches. What the fuck?" Ed protested, but his resistance crumbled a moment later. "Okay, okay. Hundred and four bucks, but I want that fucking green back the second we leave the strip club, cunts."
"Okay," Casey shrugged, while Kyle grinned and headed into the bathroom for a shower and a shave. He really wanted to impress Julietta tonight. Or whatever her real name was.
Derriere's Gentleman's Club, the sign said outside.
"This place looks like a dive," Kyle muttered quietly. Still it did offer fully nude dances and you could bring in your own booze.
"Come on, losers," Ed grinned, a six-pack tucked under his arm. "Let's go see some shaking milk-bombs and wide open tampon-tunnels!"
Kyle shook his head at Ed. Sometimes the guy could be such a dick, but his vocabulary for slang terms when it came to the female anatomy was inexhaustible.
"Dude," Casey said. "If you call them that in front of any woman you're never gonna get laid."
"I do fine, fucktard," Ed grinned. "Come on, let's go."
Kyle followed Ed and Casey into the club, paying the steep twenty five dollar door fee. The club looked a lot better inside than it did outside, and there must have been a hundred guys in the room, with a bit of a relaxed policy of under twenty-one getting applied by the security staff. There was even a table of women across the room, getting cheers as one of them slipped a note into the g-string of a dancer. True to the advertising, a dancer was on another stage, gyrating around a pole, dressed only in black stockings and heels.
"Full nudity, bitches," Ed announced.
"Come on, let's go get a table," Kyle said, keen to get out of earshot of the security before Ed got them bounced right back out the door.
They sat down around a small table with four armchairs and within thirty seconds Ed was waving a twenty at a tall, skinny redheaded dancer with underwear the same colour as her hair.
"You looking for a dance, sugar?" she asked, her accent betraying her East-european origins.
"You better fucking believe it, baby," Ed grinned, leaning forward in his chair.
"Follow me, big boy," she purred, taking him by the hand and leading him off through an archway draped with strings of silver beads.
"He's gonna get kicked," Kyle laughed.
"Yep," Casey nodded. "No chance he can keep his hands to himself."
"Bet you five bucks it takes less than two..." Kyle's voice trailed off as he caught sight of a familiar face. "That's Julietta.... from the waterpark!"
She was about thirty feet across the room, with long black curly hair, tied up at the back and dressed in black and silver underwear that showed off her body to perfection. She stood amidst a table of four guys, baiting them on to buy a dance.
"The stripper with the long dark hair?" Casey asked, looking where Kyle's gaze was fixed. "That a wig she's got on, bro?"
"Must be." Julietta's hair was cut in a short bob that swept to one side, but her hair was a similar shade to the wig she was wearing. "She never said she was a fucking stripper. Business student at Berkeley, she told me."
"Well, if she's working here, she must have been planning to blow us off," Casey pointed out. "I wonder if the rest of the girls work here too. I'm going for a look." Kyle nodded as Casey got up and left the table.
He watched Julietta for a minute or two, feeling pretty disappointed that she'd lied to him today. He genuinely thought they were getting on good, that there was a mutual attraction there, and he felt optimistic about his chances tonight. Not now though.
"Hey baby," Kyle heard as he felt a touch on his arm. He turned to see the dancer from the stage when they'd first come in, now with a tight black dress on to supplement her stockings and heels.
"Hi," he replied, not really sure what to say.
"You gonna spend the night looking at Sahara from afar, or would you like to look at Piper close up?" she purred quietly.
"Erm... which one are you?" Kyle asked, confused.
The dancer laughed. "I'm Piper, sweetie. The girl over there is Sahara. You looking for a dance with me?" She lowered her voice and whispered in his ear. "I don't tease like she does. I deliver."
"Mind if I ask something?" Kyle blurted, partially intoxicated by Pipers perfume, but determined to get to the bottom of the Sahara/Julietta thing.
"As long as it ends up with you and me having some private time, sweetie," she replied, turning and sitting on his knee, her stocking-clad legs crossing on his lap.
"Sahara," Kyle began. "I met her today, at the water park. Is her real name Julietta?"
To his surprise Piper laughed. "I think you're getting her confused with someone else, sweetie. Sahara wasn't at no waterpark today. The girl can't even swim."
Kyle frowned. "She was only on the lazy river anyway. It's only four foot deep."
"Trust me, sweetie," Piper smiled. "Sahara wasn't at no water park today. And her name ain't Julietta neither."
"Well if it wasn't her, she must have a frickin twin in town," Kyle said, turning back to look at the brunette that was the spitting image of the girl he'd spent two hours talking to that afternoon.
"Anyway, enough about Sahara," Piper said, whispering in his ear once more. She shifted her hips slightly on his lap, getting his attention. "Let's you and me go for a dance."
Kyle felt drawn in two directions. He really wanted to get a dance with Sahara to find out if it was Julietta or not, but Piper had been very helpful, her scent was intoxicating and her butt felt very nice as it wriggled on his lap.
She stood up and took his hand, then cocked an eyebrow at him. "Let's go."
Before the dance Piper said she delivered, but Kyle honestly thought he'd had much better lapdances. It was as if her heart wasn't in it, and neither were her acting skills. He gave her twenty bucks anyway for going through the motions, thanked her and then returned to Casey, joined a moment later by Ed.
"Woo, mother fuckers," Ed crowed as he sat down heavily. "That girl was all over me like a fat kids tongue on chocolate ice cream."
"You just had a lapdance and all you can think of to describe it is a fat kid licking ice cream?" Casey laughed. "Dude, that's fucked up."
"That's not what I fucking meant," Ed said quickly but the damage was done and while Kyle kept an eye on Sahara, Casey kept getting digs in on Ed.
"Hey, did you find her friends here?" Kyle asked Casey, remembering his friends search.
"No, man. They're not here. I even asked if there was girls on their break through the back, but the bartender said they were all working because it was so busy."
"I asked one of the other dancers and she said it's not her," Kyle explained. "Her name's Sahara apparently."
"Stripper names are hot!" Ed added.
Kyle and Casey ignored him. "Do you think she was telling the truth?" Casey asked. "Be a shame if it was her and the girls weren't going to meet us, but if it's just someone who looks like her then the girls might still be at Club Boca at twelve."
"She said that Sahara can't swim, and definitely wasn't at the waterpark today."
"You should get her over for a dance," Casey suggested. "You can ask her yourself."
"I'm waiting for her to be done with those guys," Kyle explained.
"Fuck that shit," Ed said getting up. "I'll go get her."
"Fuck no!" Kyle said quickly while Casey grabbed Ed's wrist. "You're not exactly Mister Tact-And-Diplomacy, Ed."
"So? She's only a stripper and I know how to talk to strippers."
"Yeah? What about the four guys she's talking with though?" Casey pointed out.
"Man, you're such a pussy," Ed stated. Much as Kyle didn't like to agree with Ed on much, what he said was true. Casey would avoid any kind of potential physical confrontation and if one happened he was off like a scalded cat. He had no problem talking with women, but if there was other guys nearby showing an interest he'd avoid them like the plague rather than risk starting something.
"Ed, have a seat, man," Kyle said. "I'll get her as soon as she's done with those guys, okay? Besides, there's no big rush. We don't have to be at the club for another hour."
"Yeah, man," Casey added. "It's probably not even her anyway."
"Whatever, bitches," Ed said, taking a seat and opening another of his beers.
They sat there for another half an hour while Sahara took three of the guys individually in for dances, with Kyle biding his time. Ed disappeared for another two lapdances and Casey went for one. Another dancer approached Kyle but he declined the offer and after that the dancers seemed to leave him alone.
By the time Sahara returned after the third dance and the fourth guy at the table declined a dance with her, Kyle was about ready to hop out his chair and go over but she turned and looked right at him and then strutted over.
It was so bizarre, he thought to himself as he saw absolutely no flicker of recognition on her face.
"Hey, gorgeous," she said as she sat on the arm of his chair, and he knew there and then it wasn't Julietta. It was her voice. It was different. A completely different tone. Different accent. More husky and a little more Southern than Julietta's Manhattan twang.
"Your name's Sahara, right?" Kyle said, more for a way of starting the conversation off.
"That's right," she nodded slowly. "A little bird told me you're looking for some quiet time with me." She didn't ask a question but made it a solid statement.
"Yeah, see today I was at a waterpark and I met this girl."
"And she teased you, am I right?"
"Not exactly," Kyle replied, a nervous smile on his face. He couldn't get over how much she looked like Julietta. "I met this girl and you two are unbelievably similar. I thought you were her."
"Well I don't have any sisters, and I wasn't at any waterparks today. I was too busy working on my all over tan," she said, making every word sound seductive. "Want to go to a private room so I can show you it?"
"Em... sure," Kevin replied. He'd spent most of his time in the club watching her, and if it wasn't Juletta then he wanted her to dance for him. If it was Julietta, then even better. He handed her the twenty bucks he had held in his hand for the last half hour.
"Follow me," she said firmly. "What's your name, handsome?"
"Kyle."
"You already know my name."
"Sahara."
"Shall I tell you what else you know?" she said, dragging the beads out the way and beckoning him through the archway.
"Sure," Kyle stammered, feeling suddenly more nervous now than he had since his first ever time in a strip club.
"That I'm going to give you a dance you'll remember for the rest of your life," she purred. Her hand dragged him into a small booth to the right of the archway and he thumped into the seat. A single light shone down in the booth from above and music pumped from speakers high on the walls throughout the room.
"Remember, no touching, Kyle," she breathed in his ear as she sat down astride his lap. She sat upright, her thighs either side of his and took a hold of his wrists, then paused a second, giving him a curious look.
"What's up?" he asked, intensely aware of her chest inches from his face and the weight of her body on his.
"Nothing," she said quietly as if breaking from a trance. She took his wrists and placed them either side of him on the chiar. "Keep your hands there, Kyle. You're not gonna need them." Then she winked. "I know you've been watching me for a while now."
Without a seductive smile, Sahara leaned back, her pelvis pressing into his and she continued, arching her back until her head was on the small table in the booth. Then, in time with the pulsing music, she began to pump her hips on his, as if she was riding him.
Kyle took a deep breath as his body immediately responded to this sultry woman gyrating on him, grinding her crotch on his through her thin black panties with the silver lace.
Sahara bumped him extra hard, then four beats later the same again, then once more. Her hips resumed their quick movement, rocking on him in time with the music.
"Oh Jesus," he muttered, feeling his cock begin to rise in his jeans. With his hands at his sides he could feel it getting thicker and longer, growing down the right leg of his trousers. Without adjustment it was going to get painful.
Sahara flicked herself back upright on his lap, a graceful and erotic movement that placed her chest right in front of his face. Kyle licked his lips, acutely aware of her breathing and the rise and fall of her breasts.
He felt Sahara's hand slip around behind his neck and she began to slowly ride him, as if on a bucking bronco in slow motion, grinding her hips on him, her flat taught stomach rolling with each movement.
"Oh Jesus," he repeated.
Her hands came up to her chest, barely a foot from his face and her finger glided slowly over her bra, tender fingertips caressing the material until they met in the middle. A smooth graceful motion had the front clip undone and then she rolled her head back and thrust her chest forward as her bra slid off her shoulders.
The luxurious full shape of her breasts moved within inches of Kyle's face and as his mouth dropped open of it's own volition, suddenly she swung away again, her left hand landing on his forehead. Kyle felt his head being held firmly agianst the seat as Sahara rose onto her knees, her breasts hovering deliciously over his open mouth.
He watched in agonisingly close detail as her free hand caressed her nipple for a moment, her face invisible in the silhouette of the overhead light, and then she brought it towards his mouth. Kyle's tongue flickered out, so close, aching to taste her tight little pink nub, longing to suck it into his mouth and pleasure her.
Her body swayed, bringing her nipple closer then swinging away out of reach by a few inches, then back again once more. Kyle's tongue darted out at each swaying movement, but her hand held his head firmly in place, his tongue as little as an inch out of reach of it's target.
He groaned, an involuntary sound that brought her nipple closer. His tongue stretched out, as far as he could make it reach and he strained as she inched her breast in, closer and closer until he was sure he would be able to lick her nipple. He positively ached for it, and it was all he could do to keep his hands at his sides and not drag her into his mouth.
She released his head from the seat, but before Kyle could smother her nipple in his mouth she stood up, swaying her hips from side to side above him, slowly shuffling backwards for a moment, before she suddenly dropped to a crouch. With the lightest of touches, her hands spread his knees apart, and her head darted between his legs, down low, almost under his balls, and he felt her nose touching the material of his trousers.
"Holy fuck," he growled, his breathing deep, his cock straining tight against the inner leg of his trousers as she moved her head around his groin.
Sahara's tongue darted out a moment later, right at the bottom of his button-fly, pressing through the denim on the base of his shaft, then slowly probing along the length of his cock, it's bulge easily visible. It continued, sometimes above, sometimes below, but always in contact until her tongue met the tip of his trapped erection.
Her eyes rose to meet his. "Now this won't do, will it?" she purred, barely audible above the pulsing music. Her hands slid down the inside of his thighs, her right caressing the underside of his balls, the left positioning itself under his cock, and as Kyle gasped, she maneuvred his erection until it was upright in his trousers.
Sahara's tongue dragged itself up his button fly, bulging from the contained erection, from bottom to the tip and for a couple of seconds her head bobbed up and down, as if she was sucking him off. Kyle felt a desperate need to wrap his fingers in her hair and hold her in place, but before he could lose control and grab her she had moved again.
This time she half stood and turned around, her back now to him, her luscious, gorgeous buttocks in front of him. Again he licked his lips as they slowly lowered onto his waist, nudging a little from side to side until he could feel his erection nestled between the cheeks of her ass.
This was already a completely different class of lapdance from the one he'd experienced with Piper a short time ago.
Sahara slowly dragged her ass down the length of his cock, and as Kyle's head pressed back against the chair in blissful agony, she slowly rode back up him. Her hands rose to either side of her head, lacing themselves in her hair as her buttocks began to slowly ride his cock, pulling his foreskin up and down with every motion.
Kyle was in heaven. If it was possible to fuck someone without penetrating them, then this was it, and Sahara was really going to town on him. As her ass dragged up and down either side of his cock, she leaned back slowly until her head lay on his right shoulder. He could feel her breath on his neck as he looked at her breasts, her nipples tight and hard and agonisingly close, yet still out of reach.
He shivered as her tongue darted out, caressing the skin of his neck, slowly tracing an invisible pattern higher and higher until his ear was sucked into her mouth. Kyle's eyes closed, the sensations all over his body becoming more intense by the second as Sahara manipulated his senses.
His eyes snapped back open as she released his ear from her mouth and he watched as her fingertips took a light grip on her nipple, twisting it slightly, pulling it a little, making it stiffer and harder as her buttocks pressed down on his cock.
"Fuck," he said, his voice thick with desire.
Sahara slowly sat upright, her ass lifting off his cock as she stood and bent over, yet her hand darted down, caressing his erection as if reassuring it. Kyle could see right between her legs and the outline of her pussy through the black panties. His heart raced in hope that she was about to take them off.
Her knees bent again, bouncing her ass off his cock a couple of times as if she was riding him, but her legs straightened again a moment later and one of her hands moved between her legs, a finger tracing the the lips of her pussy and continuing between the cheeks of her ass.
Kyle licked his lips again as the finger continued up past her ass, stopping at the waistband of her panties and hooking inside.
"Please," he mouthed silently, smiling as the finger began to draw her panties down, inch by inch, right in front of him. They peeled slowly from her skin, Sahara bent over right in front of him, presenting him with the best possible view, close up.
Kyle took a deep breath, his heart racing as his eyes focussed on her imminently visible asshole yet Sahara twisted her body a half-turn to the right, teasing him further. He could see the wicked grin on her face as she watched his reaction, swaying her ass from side to side as she slid her underwear down over her buttocks, then slowly down her thighs, dropping them to the floor.
Kyle wanted her desperately to resume her previous position, yet she continued swaying her hips before him, side on so he couldn't get a glimpse of what he longed to see. His cock was aching for attention and he shifted his hips a little to try and ease the pressure.
Sahara paused, stopped the swaying of her hips and placed a hand back on his forehead. The view of her body in profile just intensified Kyle's lust and he was sure he could hear his heart thumping above the beats of the pulsing music in the small room.
He gasped as Sahara moved quickly, a graceful fluid motion that suddenly had her feet either side of his hips with her hips above his head, her gorgeous pussy right in front of his face. Kyle swallowed, an unconscious reaciton to the sight before him.
As he watched, Sahara held his head in place, barely a foot away from her naked pelvis and she slid her free hand slowly down over her stomach, over her hip and then onto her shaven mound. Her fingernails traced in circles on the sensitive skin and Kyle was sure there were goosebumps there, so delicate was her touch.
Her fingers slid lower, caressing the lips of her pussy, sliding back and forth along either side and Kyle mouth opened wide as she slid her index finger inside her, a quick dip that accepted her whole finger with no hesitation. Her finger slowly began to slide back out yet darted back in as deep as it would go. Sahara arched her back as she fingered herself, and Kyle licked his lips, feeling as if his cock got any harder it would burst.
As he watched she slid her finger free from the depths of her pussy, and as she brought it towards Kyle's mouth he opened wide, pressing forward to meet it, wanting nothing more in that instant than to suck her finger clean and taste her wetness.
Sahara's hand pressed firmly on his forehead keeping him in place and his eyes flickered up to hers, seeing the delightful smirk of a born tease on her beautiful features. Before he could make another move her wet finger swiped right under his nose, drawing from left to right, leaving a moist trail of her scent between his lip and nose.
"Yeah," Kyle blurted, immediately closing his mouth and inhaling through his nose to try and catch a whiff of her. His tongue darted out and wiped his upper lip, catching a slight hint of pussy on the tip of his tongue, but not enough to satisfy him.
Sahara's hands moved to either side of his head and her pelvis began to sway towards him. He felt his head get yanked back a little and he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue up, desperately hoping to taste her, to pleasure her and to feel her writhing on him. He knew he was breathing fast, was aroused beyond belief, and he wanted this girl, even if it wasn't Julietta. She was too toned, too firm to be the girl he'd chatted with that day. Sahara was like the evil-twin version of Julietta. Well, her erotic alter-ego.
His tongue probed as her pussy got closer, longing to make contact with that beautiful moist haven, yet she remained just out of reach. Her hips rocked back and forth in front of him, and he could smell her, sense that she was aroused too. She was too close for him to see but it was all instinct.
Each time he tried to lift his head and plunge into her with his tongue she either pressed his head back into the seat or her hips swayed just out of reach. She was an incredible tease and she was playing him like an expert. He was overcome with desire, longing to taste her, touch her, or possess her, trapped by the knowledge that if he pushed his luck and used his hands or used his strength to taste her his feet wouldn't touch the floor until he was on his face out on the street.
His eyes flickered up to hers, and she paused, frozen with that same curious, quizzical look on her face she had before the dance started. She was looking at him as if something wasn't quite right.
As she stood there above him, her pussy barely inches from his mouth, he took a chance and pushed his tongue forward, then pulled the back of his head from the seat.
Kyle was in heaven the instant that the tip of his tongue slid between her lips, immediately tasting her scent, her arousal. He flicked his tongue up, seeking and finding that delicious little bud that maximised the pleasure and he dragged his tongue firmly up it, flciking upwards with the very tip of his tongue.
It had been only a second, probably not even that, yet he saw the expression of pleasure cross her face at the same time as her back arched and her pussy lifted back out of reach. The hands on his head pressed him back, yet Kyle was exultant. He'd tasted her, she was wet, and it was all he could think of.
Sahara began to sway to the pulsing music, now further away from him, but as his eyes slid slowly up her body Kyle thought she had never looked hotter. His eyes met hers and he could see the intensity of her eyes, staring at him as if trying to decide something only she knew. He hoped she would decide to give him another taste.
Kyle watched as she bent at the knees, her feet still either side of his hips and her hands slid to behind his neck as she slowly squatted down onto his hips, bringing her to a similar position to when she had first started the dance for him, although now she was naked, he was hard and he knew she was wet.
He felt her pussy resting on his erection, only the denim of his trousers separating them and then she lifted free of him, her hips rising and falling a moment later further down his cock. A slow, body-arching movement dragged her pussy up the length of his erection and Kyle growled in intensity of the pleasure and desire coursing through him.
She repeated the movement again, then a third time, and then as he was thrusting up to meet her she paused, leaving him there humping his jeans. She smiled, and Kyle smiled too, knowing he was being manipulated by a master and not caring. He was loving every second of it.
Sahara slid back and lowered her feet to the floor. Her body swayed, twisted and danced for him between his thighs, shadows and light flickering over her skin with each movement. As she rotated slowly Kyle glanced down at her ass, firm and taught yet shapely enough for him to want to bury his face in it.
She backed into him, the back of her knees hitting the inside of his thighs and then she slowly lowered herself down, resuming the position she'd held earlier, her buttocks enveloping his erection through his trousers and she began to rock her hips.
Sahara leaned back, this time to his left. Her head came down on his shoulder as her buttocks continued to rock up and down his pelvis, jerking him off, making him gasp. She sucked his ear in her mouth again, intensifying things further for Kyle, further than he could handle.
"Did you enjoy your wicked little taste?" she whispered in his ear, her voice deep and husky.
Kyle nodded, his eyes closed. He longed to lift his hands and grab her hips, her breasts, anything to keep her in place. The constant motion on his cock was going to make him cum, he knew, but he didn't care he was still dressed, didn't have any thoughts beyond the pleasure of that moment.
"Thrusting your tongue into my wet little pussy like a bad boy?" she continued, drawing a groan from Kyle as her ass worked his cock. He could feel his breathing deepen. His balls begin to tighten and he knew it wouldn't be long.
"And now you want to cum, don't you?" she whispered.
"Yes," Kyle gasped. He felt her suck in his earlobe once more, releasing it quickly. Her hips took a longer and slower ride down his cock.
"I bet you want to touch me, don't you?" Sahara whispered. "To grab me, to take me, to fuck me."
Kyle's cock was going to explode and he knew it. His breath was coming in sharp gasps now, hard and fast as Sahara lay on top of him, working his cock with her buttocks, working his mind with her words.
He felt her hands fasten on his wrists, lifting them both. She pulled them up to meet her rocking hips and he gripped a hold of them, holding them in place to push his cock against, but Sahara continued to arch her back, riding his length up and down, manipulating his cock. He could feel it start to happen and his entire body tensed up.
"Is my ass going to make you cum, Kyle," she whispered in his ear.
Before Kyle could reply Sahara's buttocks tensed up, gripping him and her hips rocked fast, much faster than before, riding him hard and firm through his trousers. It sent him right over the edge.
His breathing changed, deep fast pants of breath mixed with groans, right in her ear. His cock pumped out spurt after spurt of cum onto the inside of his boxers. His body exploded in waves of pleasure, hard surges of bliss as the dancer on his lap manipulated him into and through his orgasm.
"Good boy," she murmured, jerking him off with the cheeks of her ass.
Moments later Kyle's hands fell away from her hips, exhausted and sated as the last of his orgasm washed over him. Sahara lay still across his body now, relaxed and motionless. Her tongue darted out and traced a circle on his neck.
"Did you enjoy the dance, Kyle?" she said quietly as he lay there panting.
He nodded, not really capable of words or coherent sentences.
"And it's a dance you'll remember for the rest of your life, isn't it?" she said. He could hear the the wickedness in her voice with a hint of self-satisfaction for a job well done.
He nodded. "F... fuck yes," he stammered a moment later. "Incredible."
She kissed him on the cheek, a surprisingly tender and gentle kiss, her right hand coming up to hold him in place. "My pleasure," she murmured.
Kyle felt her shift her weight as if she was about to get up, and his hands clasped her hips. "Don't go."
"I gotta get dressed, Kyle," she said, smiling at him. She wiggled her hips from side to side.. "Besides, I think you might need to go clean up."
She kissed his cheek once more, a disarming gesture that provided affection at the same time as reminding Kyle that the dance was over. This time as she shifted her weight to sit up he let her go, feeling her sitting upright on his lap, her back to him.
Kyle became aware of how the inside of his trousers were plastered with cum, and it was rapidly cooling now. She was right, he knew. He'd need to go clean up, and with a sigh of regret he accepted that the dance was finished.
"You're a hell of a good dancer, Sahara," he said, watching as she bent over to pick up her panties and bra.
She wiggled her hips on him, giving him a physical response rather than a verbal one he probably wouldn't have heard anyway. He took it as a sign she was pleased with his compliment and while she slipped her panties around her ankles, he pulled another twenty from his pocket.
Sahara stood, bent over at the waist and slid her panties back up her legs. It was the first glimpes Kyle got of her ass and of her pussy from the rear and it made him lick his lips. She straightened as she slipped her black panties with the silver lace back up, adjusting them on her hips and then she half-turned and sat on his right thigh.
"Here," Kyle said, lifting the twenty and handing it to her. "Best dance I've ever had. If I could give you a hundred bucks I would, and you'd stil deserve a tip."
"Aren't you sweet," she said, and gave him a brief peck on the lips. "Thank you, Kyle."
Sahara slipped her bra back on in a swift, practiced movement, fastening it and then running her fingers quickly through her hair, shrugging it back into place.
"Shall we?" she said, standing and holding a hand out to Kyle to help him get up.
He smiled, took her hand and stood up, feeling a little wobbly for a moment, making her chuckle.
"Knee trembler?"
Kyle nodded. "Told you you were good."
"Oh, I know I'm good," she said, smirking. "Honestly though, I don't usually get turned on when I do a lapdance, but there's something about you, Kyle."
Kyle smiled, but he knew that was a line. He didn't say anything further, but let her lead him from the booth and back through the beaded curtains to the main room.
She stopped and gave him a peck on the cheek, and with a whispered, "Thanks for the dance," she was off. Kyle looked over at his friends, watching a dancer up on the main stage doing naked acrobatics with her thighs clasped around a steel pole, and smiling, he headed for the bathroom.
Kyle, Ed and Casey arrived at Club Boca but had to wait in the queue. The time passed quickly with Casey repeatedly reminding Ed not to be a total dick and Ed repeatedly quizzing Kyle about the lapdance. Since he cleaned himself up in the bathroom at the club, Kyle hadn't said a word about it to his buddies. He'd also ditched his boxers in the restroom waste-paper bin and ended up going commando. There was no way he was going to tell Ed that story.
At a little after twelve they were admitted to Club Boca, a large place focussed around dancing and drinking, with DJ's playing a mixture of mainstream dance and latin house music, and Kyle immediately picked up on the cool chilled vibe of the place. Ed and Casey hit the bar while Kyle went looking for the girls. The guys had caught up with him again by the time he spotted them, so the three of them walked over to join them.
"Hey," Kyle smiled as he approached Julietta.
"Hi Kyle," she said, smiling back. "So you guys made it then? We thought you weren't gonna show."
Kyle smiled, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that Sahara wasn't Julietta, but the similarity to her was frightening. Realising he hadn't answered her, he smiled. "Yeah, we got stuck in the line outside. Here now though."
"Glad to hear it," Julietta replied giving him a nudge with her elbow.
"Hey, wanna dance?"
"Sure."
Kyle followed her down to the dance floor and took the opportunity to check her out. He really dug the short black skirt and boots and the black and white cut-off top she wore really showed her off. Once they were on the dance floor, Kyle let himself go. He'd always enjoyed dancing, especially in clubs and when a lot of his friends went through that phase where they thought that dancing was 'gay', Kyle was able to dance with most of the hot chicks in his school. Now he was twenty he felt comfortable on the dance floor.
While they enjoyed the music, Kyle noticed the odd guy checking out Julietta from time to time. She really did look hot, he noted, and he liked how she kept looking at him. Despite his earlier orgasm at the strip club he could feel a tingle of excitement in the pit of his stomach.
After fifteen minutes or so out on the floor, where they were briefly joined by Casey and Margarita, they stopped for a drink. Kyle grabbed them a couple of stools looking down on the dancefloor and they sat down.
"So what you been up to tonight then?" Kyle asked.
"Oh, you know. This and that," she grinned. "Four girls out on the town."
"I can imagine," he laughed. "Lots of teasing and flirting?"
"Little bit," she replied, laughing. "Bit of drinking, bit of dancing too."
"Good stuff." He took a swig of his beer and after offering Julietta another drink, he popped down to the bar and got a round of drinks in for them all. When he got back Ed was telling them all about the strip club they were at earlier.
Kyle groaned, as he hand't intended telling any of the girls about Derriere's Gentleman's Club but he should have known that Ed was incapable of any kind of tact or diplomacy. He popped the drinks down on the table and picked up his and Julietta's, handing her it. "Sometimes he's a total asshole," He muttered.
"Now that's a bad case of stating-the-obvious you've got there, Kyle," Julietta said. He could see she wanted to ask a question of him.
"Did he tell you about the girl who looked like you?" Kyle asked, figuring he might as well cut to the chase.
She nodded. "He said you thought she was me?"
"Yeah, I thought that at first, so I asked another dancer but she said Sahara couldn't swim, so it couldn't be her at the waterpark," Kyle explained as he saw Julietta snigger. "Excellent stripper name, huh?"
"Classy," Julietta nodded. "So Ed said you got a dance with her?"
Kyle nodded, his expression serious. "I wanted to find out if it was you or not. I know it wasn't now, but I had to speak to her to find out. I didn't know if you were serious about meeting us here tonight and were actually a stripper, or if there was someone who looked like you and you were still gonna be here."
"Right," she said slowly. "So you got a lapdance with my doppelganger to find out if I'd be here or not?" He could see Julietta found the story pretty amusing.
"Pretty much," Kyle admitted. "Anyway, me and Casey only went to the club because Ed was gonna go and we'd promised him before we left home that we would."
"You didn't want to go see naked strippers?" she asked quickly.
"No... I mean, yes but..." Kyle stopped, realising she was messing with him. "Nice one," he laughed.
Julietta winked at him and sipped at her cocktail. "Hey, was it any good?"
"Was what any good?"
"The lapdance? Ed said you wouldn't speak about it."
"You really want to know?" Kyle asked, looking at her curiously, wondering where she was going with this.
"Of course."
"Why?"
"Because I want to know if this stripper is good or not, especially if other people might think she's me. A girl has a reputation to uphold after all and quality matters."
Kyle laughed, pleased to see she hadn't decided he was a creep because he went to a strip club with his buddies. He did noticed that the more Ed talked the more Jessica and Shanice frowned at him. Meanwhile he could see Casey and Margarita getting cosy, with hands slipping around waists, gentle touches and nudges aplenty.
"They seem to be getting on well," he said quietly to Julietta.
"Yeah," she nodded. "They're cute together. I'm glad they're getting on."
"How are we doing?" Kyle asked on an impulse. He liked to take people by surprise from time to time.
Her cheeks flushed a little as she looked at him. "Not too bad so far. Definitely potential there."
"So you think I'm hot then?" he said, careful not to speak too loud.
"You're okay," she said archly. "What about me?"
"I think you're hot. You're cute and sexy and lots of fun," Kyle said, making it up as he went. "I think you're a really good person too, and you deserve to have some fun." He swivelled the stool so he was no longer facing the group, positioning himself facing the dancefloor. He was pleased to see Julietta doing the same, their shoulders now touching as they sipped at their drinks.
"I'm.... glad you think so," she said a moment later, her cheeks a little blushed.
"You know, we could just take off right now?" he suggested, but she smiled and shook her head.
"Not yet. It's our last night here, so I want to party some more." She gave him a very firm look. "Later though, you might get to come back to our place. We've got a villa."
"I'm sure we'd both enjoy that," he said carefully, smiling a little. On an impulse he leaned forward to kiss her, but she jerked her head back and brought a finger up to his lips.
"Please tell me you washed after your lapdance."
Her statement made Kyle chuckled. "Of course I did."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're sure?"
"Definitely," he nodded, and then was pleased when she leaned in and kissed him. Her lips were soft yet assertive and they kissed for a few seconds.
"Consider that a canape to start your appetite," she said, smiling.
"If that was a canape then my stomach is making growling sounds already," he laughed.
They hit the dancefloor after that, pausing occasionally for drinks, but always heading back to dance. As the evening wore on they touched more and more, starting with light brushes and progressing to some pretty firm grinding and caresses. While drinking Kyle and Julietta were either touching each others hands, or Julietta was leaning into Kyle's chest, at one point sitting on his knee. It was two hours of solid foreplay before the club closed.
The seven of them left the club, with Casey and Margarita firmly paired off like Kyle and Julietta, while Ed tried unsuccessfully to get anywhere with either Jessica or Shanice, but the most he got was when he tried one of his chat-up lines and they couldn't stop laughing for several minutes. Casey suggested that he hop in a cab, but Ed wouldn't have it, and if his buddies were going to a party, he was too.
The walk to the villa Julietta was staying at took about twenty minutes and by the time they got there, they were all feeling pretty buzzed with the alcohol. When they opened the front door Kyle was really impressed. It had several bedrooms, a large lounge area and a swimming pool and jacuzzi out the back.
Kyle just shook his head as Ed made straight for the pool, bombing the mirror-flat surface from as great a height as he could manage, fully clothed.
"What a fucking moron," Julietta laughed.
"He's a good guy," Kyle laughed. "He just.... he's not that tactful and there's no filter between his brain and his mouth, but if you ever need someone to get your back, he's there."
"He sounds like he'd get you into more trouble than out of it though," she teased, holding his hand.
"He has his moments," Kyle said, smiling.
"Come on," Julietta said, dragging him into one of the rooms off the lounge. Kyle's heartbeat accelerated as he entered Julietta's bedroom. Typical of a nineteen year old girl there was clothes, shoes, magazines and makeup everywhere.
"Nice and tidy," he laughed.
"There's some floor somewhere," she shrugged. "And don't get your hopes up just yet, mister," she added quickly. "I figure if we're gonna have a swim, you can pick out a bikini for me to wear."
"You gonna model them for me?"
"No," she said, laughing. "But you can choose what I've to wear, and then later I might let you take it off me."
"I can cope with that job."
"Thought you might," she grinned. Julietta rummaged around on the floor, gathering up various different coloured bits of swimsuits and while she did that, Kyle looked around, spotting a rather fancy camera on one of the units.
"Nice camera."
"Yeah, it's not too bad," she smiled. "I'm really into photography, but I didn't want to bring my good camera with me. That's just a D80."
"I know it's a Nikon, but I don't know one model from another," Kyle smiled. "Looks expensive."
Julietta shrugged. "The body isn't that expensive. The lens is a bit more though. Twenty-eight to seventy, F two point eight."
Kyle chuckled. "I don't know what any of that means."
"It's not the standard lens that comes with the camera. It's more a... specialist portrait lens," she explained. "I make a little side income with my photography back in New York. Actors headshots, Corporate portraits, stuff like that. It finances my hobby."
"Very cool," Kyle murmured, genuinely impressed. "Is that what you do at Berkeley?"
She shook her head. "Nope. Study business. It's really boring though, so I might drop out and do the photography thing full-time."
"That's seriously cool."
Julietta shrugged. "It's not all it's cracked up to be. Lot of time spent in front of a computer editing. You have to really love it. Fortunately for me."
Kyle liked what he was seeing of this side of Julietta. This casually artistic and passionate person that had been inadvertantly hidden from him under the persona of a nineteen year old clubbing student on a spring break weekend.
"So which one?"
Kyle looked at the three bikini in her hands, one black, one silver and the other blue and gold. He had no idea about styles, or cuts, but he thought the black one and said so.
"Why the black one?" she asked as she dropped the other two.
"I thought it would go nicely with your hair," Kyle said honestly.
"I like that answer," she smiled, moving forward. Her lips found his for a few intense seconds, until they broke.
"Right, out you get," she ordered, smiling.
He moved to the door. "Hey, I don't suppose you've got any shorts here that'll fit me, do you?"
Julietta raised an eyebrow. "You're commando?"
"Afraid so."
"Ask Shanice. I think she packed a pair of her brothers shorts by accident."
"See you in a minute," Kyle nodded. "Hey, you sure you don't need me to stay and supervise you getting changed?"
"All good things come to those who wait," she said, then lifted a hand, pointing out the door. "Wait being the operative word. Out."
Kyle closed the door, smiling.
Shanice turned out to have a pair of shorts he could use, although they weren't for swimming but they'd do, so he popped into the bathroom to get changed. In the ten minutes that he spent waiting for Julietta, the three girls had all gotten changed and were in the water, while Casey had simply stripped to his briefs and plunged into the pool after them.
Eventually Julietta reappeared though, and Kyle walked over to the pool with her, liking the sight of her in the black bikini. A momentary memory popped into his head of Sahara, the stripper, with her black underwear and the similarities were abundant between the two, yet the slight differences were more pronounced at the same time.
Kyle nearly blurted out, "Are you sure you don't have a sister," but he realised that reminding her he was thinking about a stripper and not her probably wouldn't go down too well. He opted for diving in the pool.
For an hour or so they mucked around in the pool, sending Ed to make them drinks out of whatever liquor was left in the villa. Surprisingly Ed was the first to pass out, on one of the sunloungers that surrounded the pool. At that point Casey and Margarita were definitely doing their own thing together in the jacuzzi, and Jessica and Shanice had gone inside to get some items to give Ed a 'makeover'.
"Let's leave them to it," Julietta whispered in Kyle's ear.
He nodded, immediately getting out the pool and helping Julietta out. She didn't let go of his hand, but pulled him after her into the house.
Kyle followed her into her bedroom, not pausing as she pulled him straight into the bathroom and handed him a towel. As he dried himself off in the dim light from the bedside lamp, he watched Julietta, rubbing a towel through her short bobbed hair. It was at that length that it looked awesome if it was neat or messy.
With both of them dry apart from the wet clothing, they paused, looking at each other, the air thick with tension. Kyle broke it.
"I will if you will," he smiled.
Julietta blushed a little but smiled back at him. "It wouldn't be smart to get into bed with wet clothes, would it?"
"Downright stupid," Kyle agreed, his hand sliding down over his stomach to the button of the cargo shorts he'd borrowed.
"Really stupid," Julietta nodded, reaching behind her to undo the strap of her bikini top. The two black cords dangled down at the sides of her stomach, the top only held in place by the string around her neck. Kyle could see the mischevious grin on her face, the slight flush on her cheeks and chest and he knew his own breath was coming quicker.
Throwing caution to the wind he shrugged his hips and pushed at the shorts, dropping them to the floor in one swift movement.
"Bear in mind the water was cold," he added, smirking.
Her eyes flickered back up to his face. "Poor baby. I'll make sure you're all warmed up."
At that Julietta reached back and pulled open the remaining knot on her bikini top, dropping it to the floor. Kyle took a deep breath as he saw her breasts, nice and firm, not too full, and the phrase 'more than a handfull is a waste' popped into his head. Her nipples were tight and hard from the cold water, and he longed to suck them in his mouth.
"Like what you see?" Julietta asked, biting her lip as she awaited his response.
"Hotter than I could have imagined," Kyle said immediately. "Beautiful."
"Oh, aren't you the smooth one," she replied, pleased at his compliment.
"Honest."
"Well, Mister Honest, you better get dried before you get in this bed. One of us is wet enough already." Julietta blushed a little more as she finished the statement but her words had an immediate effect on Kyle, and he rapidly scrubbed his damp bits dry with towel as he walked around the double bed.
Julietta chuckled as she saw him do a bandy-legged hop-walk as he dried himself, getting a grin back from Kyle. Seeing how unabashed he was she quickly shed her bikini bottoms and dried herself with her towel before slipping into bed alongside him.
Kyle had his arm out and Julietta immediately slipped into it, snuggling into him.
"Are you cold?" She murmured a moment later.
"Yeah."
"Me too. Cuddle into me," Julietta ordered, rolling onto her side and dragging him to spoon in behind her.
Kyle slipped his arm around her waist as his legs slid in, matching her position under the covers. Her butt felt cold in his lap, but it was a naked Julietta butt. It could have been made of ice and he wouldn't have moved away. He traced his fingers in a small circle around her belly button.
"That's nice," she murmured, worming her head inbetween Kyle and the pillow.
There was something incredibly intimate and comforting in the way their bodies were conforming into each other to Kyle. He realised that both of them were making unconscious minute adjustments, his upper leg sliding between hers, her calf resting behind his own with her foot looped under his. Her hand found his left arm and she pulled it in to her body, his hand sliding between her breasts as his right slid from her belly button to between her and the bed, wrapping her tight, her arms wrapping around his until they were as tight together as could be.
There was nothing erotic about it, he realised, just an incredible intimacy as their two bodies fit tightly together as if made for it.
"Oh my," Julietta purred in his ear. "I could stay like this all night."
"Um... me too," Kyle admitted. "And I'm not a cuddly type of guy."
"But this is so nice..."
"I know," he admitted. "It's.... "
"I know," she finished.
They lay there, wrapped up in each other under the blankets.
Sahara
"Night, Tiger-Lily," Sahara called back as she left the dressing room of the Derriere's Gentlemens Club, smiling as she always did when the dancers said goodnight to each other using their 'stripper names'. She walked past the bar, seeing her blonde haired room-mate, Anabeth waiting for her.
"You ready to go?" Anabeth asked. "I'm beat."
"Yeah. Busy night, huh?" Sahara replied, opening the door.
"Don't think I've ever done so many dances in one night. Goodnight, guys," She added to the security guys.
They turned right and walked the seventy yards to the door of their apartment block. Anabeth opened the door and the two of them climbed the two flights of stairs then entered their small scummy two-bedroom apartment.
Anabeth slumped down on the sofa. "Want a drink?"
Sahara shook her head. "Think I'm just gonna go to bed."
"Want some company tonight?" Anabeth asked, grinning. "I'll make you sleep real good."
Sahara smiled, but shook her head at her occasional fuck-buddy. "Too tired, but thanks anyway, baby."
Anabeth shrugged. "I'll just have to fuck myself silly with my toys tonight instead."
"And probably wake the whole block when you cum," Sahara replied, smirking.
"Nothing wrong with enjoying yourself."
Sahara's mind conjured up the image of the young dark-haired guy who she'd danced for earlier, deliberately making him cum.
"You're smiling," Anabeth said immediately, her eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"
"Made a guy cum tonight," Sahara smirked.
Anabeth rolled her eyes. "That's called a professional hazard."
"Deliberately though."
"Oh, really?" The blonde sat forward, her interest obvious. "Tell me."
"Some guy called Kyle. There was just something about him," She explained, shrugging. "I thought he was really hot, and when I was dancing for him I got really fucking wet. Even let him stick his tongue in my pussy for a second."
"You dirty slut," Her friend laughed.
"Hardly," Sahara replied. "But I did make him cum in his pants, and then afterwards I told him that it was rare I got turned on but there was something about him."
"Sounds like a stripper line," Anabeth grinned.
"Yeah, I think that's what he thought," Sahara admitted. "Thing is, if he'd shown any interest I'd have given him my cell number, or told him to meet me here at closing time, and he would be in my bed right now."
"If he was that hot, I might have joined you," Anabeth replied, winking.
"Oh, I know," Sahara smiled. "And now I'm off bed alone. Night, Anabeth. Sleep good."
"You too, Kara."
Kyle
It was still dark when Kyle awoke, sensing a slight movement in Juliette, a slight change in posture, in position, and he knew that his own body had responded. He could feel his breathing deepen, matching hers as his cock continued to grow, nestled between the lips of her pussy, inching forward as it became thicker and longer in the darkness.
Without asking he knew she was awake, lying there with her head beside his, experiencing the same exquisite physical and intimate sensations he was.
He felt her neck stiffen as the tip of his erection glazed her clit, and hearing her exhale was a wonderous sound in his ear. Kyle turned his head and gently kissed her, a soft, tender brush of his lips on her jaw.
He felt her hand grip his a little tighter as he brushed his lips a little further along the line of her jaw until his breath was on the soft, sensitive skin below her ear.
Julietta moaned softly as he held there, breathing on her with a tender intensity. Her hand came up, her fingers lacing themselves in his hair, softly steering his head to kiss her once more.
Kyle brushed his lips down her neck, barely touching the skin, his lips softer than they'd ever been in his life, going purely on instinct as he experienced something beautiful. He felt Julietta roll her hips in a luxurious caress, drawing him up and down her soft cleft, feeling her welcome on his arousal.
His lips traced down her neck, brushing against her collarbone as his whole body moved forward, his lips rising back up her neck as he entered her.
Julietta's head rolled back, exposing her neck to him as she whispered his name.
"Kyle."
Her body moved in response, her back arching as her head rolled back, her pelvis tilting, welcoming another inch inside her.
Kyle felt like he was in heaven, in another place and time where everything was emotion and intimacy, sensation and connection, as if the world had come to have no meaning and all that mattered was the here and now. This moment.
His lips met hers, the exquisite gentleness of their lips making them both moan. His hand slid out from under her and was met by her own, steering it to caress her breast, her soft skin moving with every breath under his fingertips.
Julietta moved her body, a slow-motion writhe that expressed her desire, her passion, and drew Kyle's mouth to hers while she pressed into him, teasing a little more of him inside her.
Kyle's senses were electric, every motion and movement he made focussed on bringing pleasure to this beautiful woman in his arms. His left hand moved to her breasts, caressing her nipple between finger and thumb while his right hand moved down, his fingertips tracing invisible patterns in her skin as she began to softly sway her hips on him. He felt her tongue probe into his mouth as if tasting him. Kyle's fingers traced down over the little stripe of dark curly hair until he found what he sought, that delicious little spot that brought and enhanced so much pleasure. As his finger tip brushed it lightly, Julietta moaned in his mouth and pushed back a little further with her pelvis, tilting it and pushing, arching her back and pressing her buttocks into his lower stomach, seeking him, wanting him inside.
They broke their kiss, each breathing hard inches away from the other. Kyle knew he was fully inside her and he was almost delirious with pleasure, but his only desire was to make sure she felt the same.
His finger slid a little lower, feeling the natural moisture on his cock as Julietta slowly moved her hips back and forth on him. Kyle coated the tip of his finger with it, then dragged it back up to her little pleasure-nub.
"Oh, Kyle," Julietta whispered and Kyle kissed her once more, delighted with the pleasure in her voice. His finger began to slowly circle her clit as their passion built further, Julietta rocking her hips a little to move him inside her.
Kyle tensed, moving his own hips so he could begin to move himself inside her and as he did, his first slow thrust inside her, Julietta moaned. Kyle repeated the movement, slowly withdrawing then sliding back in until he was fully inside her, his finger brushing her bud with every motion of her breathing, his other hand caressing her nipple to a taught hardness that he longed to take in his mouth.
Once more he withdrew then slowly thrust himself inside her, feeling her back arch and her chest thrust out.
"Don't stop," she whispered, breaking their kiss. Her head rolled back on his shoulder once more and she took his earlobe into her mouth, sucking softly on it as her body moved, writhing in a series of connections with Kyle's.
Kyle wanted to pleasure her, ached to pleasure her, and so he continued to slowly slide inside her, each movement a finely controlled symphony of muscles moving in harmony to provide her with that pleasure.
Idly he realised he had never experienced anything as intoxicating as this in his life, focussing solely on providing pleasure for another and feeling more intimate than he had ever been in his life. He thrust the thought aside, for truly, it didn't matter to him. All that mattered was the here and now, Julietta and the connections they were sharing in that instant.
Kyle continued his movements, concentrating on Julietta now, seeking to heighten her pleasure in any way possible, so while his hips continued their slow thrusts, his fingertip worked on her clit, his other hand teased her nipple to a stiffness that would penetrate steel and his mouth returned to its teasing soft kisses, first on her collarbone, then up the side of her neck, then behind and around her ear.
He knew she was breathing deeper and faster as he made his way around her, teasing and breathing on her, and she moaned as she began to push back with her own hips, seeking him, wanting more.
He increased the pressure with his finger on her little pleasure node, working it a little harder, the tip of his finger stroking it up and down, in tune with her breathing and as it increased in intensity he matched it. Unconsciously his hips did the same, a synchronous movement that tied everything in with her own arousal, growing firmer and faster as her breathing increased, as her body rolled and arched and craved more.
"Fuck, Kyle," she panted. "Please."
His lips met hers once more, locking together in a passionate, hungry embrace that matched the intensity of their bodies. He heard her involuntary moans from deep inside her, felt her begin to tremble and he stepped up to match her.
Gone was the slow tender thrusts. Gone was the tender touches. Gone was the teasing caresses. They were from a moment in the past. The present was hunger, intensity, a different type of connection with a life of its own.
Julietta's hips began to shake, their rhythm erratic and uncontrolled. Kyle didn't waver, didn't let up, didn't stop, just kept on going, pushing inside her, firmly manipulating her clit, his other hand holding her tight against him as her body arched, stiffened and her breath exploded from her.
She broke their kiss as she orgasmed, each breath she panted bringing forth a moan of ecstasy. Her body shuddered hard against him, shaking and squeezing, and Kyle thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever experienced.
He could feel her tensing inside, like miniature spasms gripping him as he thrust and withdrew. Kyle felt her vulnerability and pleasure and the intimacy and eroticism of the moment tightened him, made him moan.
It was sudden and intense, a hard and fast orgasm that he didn't expect but that blew him away. His hand moved from her clit to her lower stomach, pulling her in to his body, his muscles throughout his body strong and rigid, pressing her into his shoulder, his chest, into his pelvis, pushing himself inside her as deep as he could go.
"Oh, fuck," Kyle moaned as he came inside her, bucking and lurching as Julietta's body still quivered against him.
She moaned aloud knowing he was experiencing the same pleasure she was, and her hand held his head to hers, alongside each other.
"Kyle," she moaned in a near whisper into the darkness. "Yes."
Hot, spasming pleasure surged through Kyle in the beauty of the moment, being inside her as they both reached that place together, locked tight in his arms, both breathing fast and hard in sheer bliss.
They stayed like that, locked together, Kyle inside Julietta. Neither wanted to let the experience go, yet as they gradually subsided, as their orgasms slowly eased away like shadows chased by the sun their tense bodies eased, relaxing and melding together in that comfortable way that only lovers can.
Julietta was the first to speak. "Kyle, that was....."
"I know," he said simply. "I've never experienced anything like that."
"It was so beautiful," she replied, kissing him softly on the cheek. Then she giggled. "You're still inside me."
He grinned and moved his hips back a little, tilting his pelvis and as he slid out of her Julietta sighed.
"I miss it already," she murmured.
Kyle re-adjusted his hips so that he was pressed back against her again, his soft penis lying against her buttocks. As Julietta snuggled her ass back into his pelvis she giggled again.
"I can feel your cum running down my skin."
"Yeah, sorry about that. I should have put a condom on but I was kinda caught in the moment," he said gently. He felt her squeeze against him, a movement of reassurance and comfort.
"Me too, but I wouldn't change it for the world," she whispered back, kissing him once again on the cheek. "You know how people say about memories that last a lifetime?"
"This was one of them," he agreed.
"Why do you have to live so far away?" she whispered softly. Kyle knew exactly what she meant. He'd had girlfriends and one night stands, and none of them had even come close to this. Not once, and it was with a woman who he would never see again after this night.
He felt so incredibly close to her, so intimate that he had to ask. "Julietta, I wasn't going to ask, but I have to know. What's your real name?"
She lay there in silence for a moment, then her lips turned to his ear.
"Katie. It's short for Katarina."
Three Years Later
"Is everything okay, Kyle?" The old lawyer asked as Kyle stared at the photographs on the table. "You've gone a little pale."
In a voice barely above a whisper, Kyle said, "Oh, fuck, please let this be a joke."
Kyle was reeling, the instant recognition of the two faces in the photos making him feel nauseous, excited and angry at the same time.
It was Katie and Sahara, the two stars of his own personal spank-bank, the sexual memories that came back to him every night when he lay in bed, his eyes closed, stroking his cock. The two hottest women he'd ever encountered and God, or Fate, or Destiny had decided to fuck him up and reveal they were his sisters. He cursed the part of himself that was excited at the thought of meeting them again. He knew that he couldn't have known they were his sisters, that there was no possible way he could have known, but still he felt disgusted with himself, the strength of the social and legal taboo so strong that he just felt.... wrong. Dirty, and not in a good way.
The conflicting emotions and memories made his already knotted stomach feel like a stuffed toy inside a washing machine on a spin-cycle.
"Kyle," Mister Crowler asked again. "Is everything okay?"
Kyle looked at the old man across the table and took a deep breath. "Mister Crowler, are you my lawyer?"
"No, or more precisely, not yet. Right now I'm representing the interests of Mister Tripps. Do you need a lawyer?" The old man tilted his head, looking at Kyle across the table. "You need someone you can talk to confidentially with your best interests at heart and no-one elses?"
"Something like that," Kyle replied. Then another realisation struck him - that when he hooked up with Katie as he thought of her, there were other people around. Ed and Casey, his buddies were there, but also her three friends. Five other people who knew the two of them had hooked up. Ed and Casey knew that he'd got a lapdance from Sahara who was actually Kara too. And if the press were going to find out about them, then all it would take would be someone to open their mouth and all kinds of shit would come out.
"I'm not going to ask any questions just yet, however I would advise you to speak to Patricia about the problem tonight, whatever it is," Mister Crowler said firmly. "She is appointed to you to look after you, not to look after the business or to steer you in any particular direction, so if there's a problem, or if there may be one in the future, discuss it with her. She'll help you out."
"Is she a lawyer?" Kyle asked.
"No, but she can talk to one without incriminating you, or arrange a discussion with one for you. Either way, discuss it with her. Then once the last will and testament has been read, I can give you legal counsel if it's required. Is that sufficient?"
Kyle shrugged helplessly, having no idea what to do about this. "I guess it'll have to be for now."
"Do you have any other questions?"
Kyle thought for a moment, then nodded. "My... sisters. Are they being told just now too?"
"That's my task for today, I'm afraid," The lawyer replied. "As soon as we're done here I'm off to let them both know too. All going well you'll all meet for the first time on the Island tomorrow."
"We're all taking the same plane? Sorry, jet?"
The old man shook his head and began clearing up the documents and photographs from the table. "No, Kyle. You'll all be making your way there and they'll arrive together."
"Oh, okay. So what do I do now?" The words came out on auto-pilot. Inside, Kyle still felt like he was reeling.
"Get in the car outside, go shopping for some clothes for a week on a Caribbean island, and whatever else you want to take with you. There are limitations though."
"Such as don't buy a Lamborghini?" Kyle shook his head, experiencing one of those surreal moments.
"I daresay you could if you wished, but I think Mister Tripps has a couple anyway," The old man replied, smiling slightly. "Limitations. You can't discuss this with your friends, and if they ask, tell them you've had to go away on a business trip, advising the three Company Directors that turned up out the blue today. Currently they're smoothing things over within the organisation so that people will think you've been selected for a fast-track career path and are off around the country for a week or so."
"That's why they're here?"
The lawyer nodded. "They don't know the details, but yes, they're here only to give you a legitimate excuse to vanish for a week."
"Shit.. What about my friends? I can't tell Ed and Casey?" Kyle asked.
"That's correct."
"I kinda already told my parents that I'd be going to meet these sisters of mine," Kyle said, frowning.
"That's okay, Kyle. They're your parents, although I'd strongly suggest you call them and ask them to keep quiet about it over the next couple of days."
"Okay, I will do. What else?"
"That's us," The lawyer said, placing the files in his briefcase. "Oh, here's a suggested list of items you should bring, along with a list of places you can find them. It's from a creative professional on the Island. To be frank, she's a bit of a nuisance, but she does know how to make you look good." The old man slid three sheets of paper across the table to Kyle.
"Come, Kyle Watson. I'll walk you to your car, introduce you to your driver and then I'll see you late tomorrow." Mister Crowler stood up and beckoned Kyle to the door.
Kyle led the lawyer out to the Reception, absently patting his pockets to make sure he had his housekeys. He could feel the wad of cash in his wallet along with the new credit cards. They exited the building and Kyle's eyes widened as he saw the two limos parked at the kerb.
"Wow, this is really real," He murmured.
"What was that?" Mister Crowler asked.
"Sorry, nothing. Just muttering," Kyle replied.
"Well, Kyle Watson, it was a pleasure meeting you, and once again, my apologies for turning your world completely upside down. Let's hope when everything settles down it looks better than it did before." The old man offered a hand and Kyle shook it.
"Best of luck today, Mister Crowler. Can I make a request of you?" Kyle said quickly as the old man turned to leave.
"Yes?"
"When you meet my sisters could you give them a message for me?"
"It depends on the content of the message, Kyle."
"Can you tell them I wish I knew I had sisters, and I'm looking forward to meeting them both for the first time tomorrow?"
The old lawyer's eyebrow raised. "Indeed? I'm sure I can pass that on. Good luck, Kyle, and I'll see you tomorrow. And don't forget your passport."
Kyle nodded, breathing a sigh of relief as the old man turned his back. The message had been a spur of the moment thing, and the wording impromptu, but he wanted to get a message to them if they remembered him. Telling them he wished he knew he had sisters would remind them that none of them knew they were related when they'd met before, and adding that he was looking forward to meeting them for the first time tomorrow was something he was rather pleased with. A hidden message saying don't admit that we've already met. In the event that one or both of them didn't remember him then the whole message would seem quite sweet.
Kyle smiled, his stomach still doing flip-flops, but nowhere near as bad as it was a few minutes ago.
"Mister Watson?"
Kyle turned, hearing a woman's voice from beside the car. "Hi?"
"I'm Caroline, your driver for today, sir." Caroline turned out to be a short-haired dirty-blonde woman in her mid to late twenties, dressed in the classic black suit, white shirt, black tie and the peaked hat, common among limo drivers.
"Hi Caroline. Call me Kyle."
She nodded. "Very good, sir. Kyle. Whatever. Where are we going?"
Kyle smiled. "That's an easy one. Somewhere I can buy cigarettes. Then, apparently there's a list of things I've to get."
She nodded, opened the door, Kyle slid in on the leather seat and moments later they were off.
That first cigarette was a guilty pleasure, but it just made Kyle feel a little sicker than he did already, so he binned it halfway through. The three hours that followed passed in a blur.
Caroline drove him from store to store, picking up business suits and clothes of a far superior quality than anything he'd worn to date. Designer clothing stores, designer luggage, everything that was on the list was specific and labelled, put together by someone called Margaret.
Kyle was reluctant at first to accept that someone could pick out what he should wear and know better than he did what would suit him, but she seemed to have unerringly good taste. In the first three stores he tried on a few items, and after that he just checked the sizes were right and handed them to the sales assistants that followed him around. Turning up at the front door in a limo and wearing designer clothing certainly got their attention and service was excellent all afternoon.
Eventually the adrenalin of the whole thing began to wear off and Kyle felt exhausted, and realising he hadn't eaten at all that day, they stopped for lunch. Kyle insisted that Caroline join him, rather than eat alone and they got talking about life as a limo driver in the city.
"You see some sights, believe me."
"Like what?" Kyle asked, enjoying the novelty of being able to order whatever the hell he wanted and have a pretty hot woman for company.
"Alright, couple of nights ago I'm driving these three German businessmen around, and I pick them up from the restaurant and they're all blitzed, right?"
Kyle nodded and took a bite of his burger.
"Well, one of them comes up to the window and taps on it, so I lower it down while I'm driving and he asks me to take them to get some hookers."
Kyle coughed. "No fucking way. Just like that?"
Caroline nodded, brushing her hair back from her face. "Yeah, plain as that. So I've got three options, right? One, I can ditch them and get no tip, and probably get fired. Two, I can go and find some meth-head skanks that are probably riddled with Christ knows what diseases, or I can go with option three."
"Which is?"
"Call my room-mate and get her to round up some friends."
Kyle blinked. "Your room-mate's a hooker?"
"Escort, and a very well paid one at that," Caroline replied with a raised eyebrow. "She only works one night a week and she earns more money than I do."
Kyle nodded. "Whatever works for you, I guess."
"Exactly. So I call her, tell her about these guys and she makes some calls, right?" Caroline paused for a sip at her Pepsi.
"So you go and pick up all these girls?" Kyle asked, amused at how matter of fact she was about it all.
"Yeah," She nodded. "Three guys, five girls, a big fucking orgy in the back of the stretch limo for three hours. Got to give those guys some kudos for keeping it up for that long."
Kyle laughed and raised his bottle of beer. "To German businessmen."
"And the girls they rode in on," Caroline laughed, chinking her glass against his beer.
Kyle made a face. "What about cleaning the limo afterwards?"
Caroline shrugged. "Someone elses job. And no, that's not the same limo. Yours is brand spanking new. Don't know how you managed that, but it suits me fine."
"Whatever works for you," Kyle smiled. "So is it like that quite a lot?"
"What? In the back of the limo?"
"Yeah."
"Sometimes. You kind of get spells where it goes a bit nuts and then nothing happens for ages. I've had all sorts back there though. Couples who hire it for a night just to drive around the city fucking behind tinted windows. Try to spice up the old marriage. I've had guys who jacked off on their own, women who've helped them, sometimes even men who've helped them."
"Fucking hell," Kyle muttered. "It's like a whole new world I didn't know about."
Caroline laughed. "You should try it out. See how the other half live."
Kyle grinned. "What? Jerk off in the back of the limo on the way home? Nah, not really my style."
"Ha! You should hire a couple of classy escorts, have a threesome. It'd blow your mind."
"You're insane," Kyle laughed. "Have you ever?"
"What? Me? I've never hired an escort," She chuckled. "Those girls cost a fortune."
Kyle laughed, let the subject drop and finished off his burger. "Want some dessert?"
"Coffee?"
"That'll do for me," Kyle agreed. "I would tell people I'm a latte-junkie, but it's the lamest sounding thing ever."
"Yeah, I wouldn't try and use that as a line on a girl. Talking of which, have you spotted the two girls to my right checking you out?"Kyle chuckled. "Good one."
"No, seriously." Caroline nodded, her face earnest.
Kyle took a swig of his beer and casually glanced over to the booth where two girls were watching him. They jerked their eyes away quickly and began to giggle.
"Want me to get them in the back of the limo for you?"
Kyle burst out laughing. "You sound like my pimp."
"You've got a pimp?" She teased. "Seriously though, it's pretty easy. You're a decent enough looking guy, and the clothes make you look good. Plus you're sitting with a limo driver, talking shit, while it's parked right outside the door. You look good to them right now, so I bet if you picked up their check and got a bottle of champagne to go, I could walk over there and invite them to join you in the limo."
"That shit actually works?" Kyle snorted. "Sounds like something from a bad TV show."
"Oh, it works. I've got tons of clients laid doing stuff like that." She grinned. "All part of the service, my lord."
"Why you so keen to get me to hooked up?" Kyle asked, looking at her. "If it's not these girls, it's hire some hookers and have a threesome. What's that all about?" He took a swig of beer.
Caroline shrugged. "I like watching people fucking. I'm a perv, I don't care."
Kyle nearly choked and definitely lost a number of dude points during the coughing fit that followed while Caroline sat there and laughed at his reaction.
"You should totally look up a friend of mine," Kyle said a few minutes later when he'd recovered. "His name's Ed, he's nuts and lots of fun, and you two would hit it off."
"I dunno. I'm kinda fussy." Caroline shrugged again, and Kyle smiled. It seemed to be her favourite movement.
"Fussy how?"
"Well, actually I'm not that fussy," She grinned and got her phone out. "What's his number?"
Kyle chuckled and got it out his phone for her. Once Caroline punched it into the address book she grinned, a smile with a deliberate hint of evil to it. "I'm totally gonna mess with him for a week or so."
"You really should. He's a comic book artist. That's what he does for a living. Better warn you though, he's a bit of an asshole, and he's got a ridiculous vocabulary for parts of the female anatomy, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, I'm sure I can give him a run for his money. My room-mate is a professional sex worker, remember."
They left the restaurant ten minutes later, with Kyle managing to avoid Caroline's repeated suggestions that she drag the two girls with them. Ordinarily the idea would have held a ridiculous amount of appeal to Kyle, but after todays revelations, not least of which was that he had inadvertantly made love to one sister, had a lapdance from another, then jerked off to the memories several hundred times, he wasn't in the mood for anything sexual.
To kill some of the remaining hours, Kyle went home and Caroline helped him pack the luggage he'd bought with the new clothes. A ridiculous amount of tags, bags and packaging accumulated beside Kyle's sofa, but with an hour to spare they had everything packed that he'd need and into the limo. It wouldn't all fit in the trunk, but Kyle wasn't bothered about a few bags in the back with him. He knew he wasn't that guy, yet.
It came as a bit of a surprise at one point when Caroline took off her jacket to reveal a pistol in a shoulder-holster. Seeing Kyle's astonished look, she explained that she split her time between limo driving and close protection security, and that today she was doing both. Kyle thought it both surreal and funny that his first bodyguard was a woman who kept trying to get him laid and could kill him if he made the wrong move.
He had another cigarette, called his folks to ask them to keep quiet about the days events and let them know he was heading out to Danny Tripps private Island for a few days to meet his sisters. His folks seemed relieved that he seemed to be taking it in his stride, but Kyle explained that he thought it either hadn't sunk in yet, or it didn't matter to him that he was adopted because they were the only parents he'd ever known, and given both his birth parents were dead, it wasn't like they were going to steal him away.
His folks promised to call him in a couple of days, but reminded him he just had to call and they'd come to wherever he was. He rang off, nodded to Caroline and they left for the airport.
Kyle waved farewell to Caroline once the flight crew had loaded the bags onto the small private Jet, and he turned towards the small lounge in the Executive Privilege Airlines building. He looked up at the sign. "EPA? Someone's got a sense of humour."
He opened the door into a brightly llit reception area.
"Mister Watson?" An old black man with wrinkles on his wrinkles asked from behind the receptionist desk.
"Yes."
"Can I see your passport please?"
"Oh, yeah. Sure." Kyle handed it over to the man who gave it a cursory glance and handed it back.
"If you'd like to go into the lounge, sir, your aircraft will be ready in ten minutes."
Kyle nodded and entered the lounge, seeing a woman rising to her feet. Shoulder-length blonde hair framed a pretty face with a pointy chin and eyes that missed nothing. A charcoal gray business suit covered a body that Kyle could see was in great shape. For someone who had the potential to look like Pamela Anderson in a red swimsuit, she didn't come across that way at all. The minimal makeup, the lines of her suit, all created a professional ensemble that looked businesslike above all else.
"Mister Watson?" She asked, taking a step towards him. Her voice was sure, confident and clear.
"Kyle," He replied, offering a little wave. He rolled his eyes at his own lameness.
"I'm Patricia Miller. I understand Mister Crowler told you I'd be meeting you here?"
Kyle nodded, and moved forward, shaking hands with her. "Yeah, he said that you're going to be helping me out. Is that right?"
"Yes, sir," she nodded, motioning him to a seat, taking the adjacent one for herself. "I was Executive Assistant to Mister Tripps for nine years, and my role with you is to primarily look after you, act as your liaison and schedule manager, set up whatever you need and answer any questions you might have."
"So we're going to be working together quite a lot then?" Kyle asked cautiously.
"Yes, sir."
"Well, if we're going to be working together all the time, then you should call me Kyle."
"Yes, sir."
Kyle noticed the hint of a smile twitching at her mouth. "Funny."
"Kyle it is then. I may 'Sir' you in public from time to time though." Her eyes really lit up when she smiled, he noted.
"Cool. Whatever works for you," Kyle said. "So how did you get landed with me then? Lose the lottery?"
Patricia took a deep breath then let it out slowly. "Can I be honest, Kyle?"
"Please." Kyle meant it too. If he was going to have to rely on Patricia, as Mister Crowler suggested, then he much preferred the thought of her giving it to him straight.
"Out of the three of you, you and your sisters, I asked to be assigned to you. You have experience in business, and not just at a ground level. That makes my job a little easier because you'll be quicker on the uptake. Likewise, I sometimes find other women can be difficult to... establish good working relationships with from time to time."
"You mean because sometimes women are bitches?" Kyle said, opting for excessive honesty himself. He was no stranger to office politics either.
Patricia chuckled. "Yes, pretty much. I've encountered resentment because of how I look on plenty of occasions, and it's usually overcome by sheer professional competence within a month or two, but I think that the next few days and weeks are going to define a lot about how Mister Tripps businesses end up being run in the future, and I want to contribute to that."
"So by working with me, you think we'll get on better and quicker than you would if you were working with a woman?" Kyle asked, admiring her honesty, but a little confused.
"That's part of it," She nodded. "Mister Tripps and I worked together for nearly nine years, and I invested a lot of time and effort into his businesses. I think you're the most business-oriented of the three of you, based on nothing more than your files, but if you are, then that's the area I'd prefer to be working in."
"And that's all of it?" Kyle asked.
"Pretty much."
Kyle nodded. "Mister Crowler told me I could trust you. He said you were great at your job and you'd be a real asset to me if I could learn to rely on you. Any idea what he meant by that?"
"It could be something as simple as trying to encourage you to open up and trust me. That way I can learn how to support you more effectively, do my job more efficiently and help you out as much as possible." She frowned. "Did he really say that?"
Kyle nodded, looking around as his craving kicked back in. "Yeah. Do I just go outside if I want a cigarette?"
"I didn't know you smoked," Patricia said, tilting her head, her expression curious.
"Recently took up the habit again. It's been quite a day."
"I bet it has. How are you feeling?"
"Tense, nauseous, bemused, and kinda like I'm watching someone else in a movie, except the movie's my life going in strange and wacky directions," Kyle replied. He moved to stand, but Patricia placed a hand on his leg and got up herself.
"I'll get you an ashtray. Just smoke here if you want one."
"Fucking weird" Kyle muttered, lighting up indoors. She returned shortly with an ashtray.
"Want something to drink? Beer? Cocktail? Coffee? Soda?"
Kyle shook his head. "No, thanks, but don't let me stop you."
Patricia shook her head and sat back down. "So how did the shopping go?"
"Kinda bizarre," Kyle said, grinning. "Pulling up in a limo and wearing designer clothes when you walk in a store is a different level of service than I'm used to."
"It'll get more bizarre than that in the next few days," She warned. "Wait until you start getting fitted for tailored suits by Margaret."
"She's the person who wrote this list for me, right?"
Patricia nodded, a slight frown on her face. "That's Margaret. She's got a really great eye for dressing people."
"But..." Kyle added, guessing there was more.
Patricia smiled. "But she's arrogant and a nuisance, and believes that fashion is the ultimate reason for the human race being on the planet."
Kyle laughed. "Sounds like a joy to work with."
"Fortunately it doesn't happen very often, or my schedule would be shot to hell by brunch on a daily basis."
"So, I'm meant to lean on you for advice and all that. What mistakes should I try and avoid?" Kyle asked, figuring he might as well find out.
"Time management is going to be a factor for you. There's only so many hours in a day, and everyone will want a piece of them, so don't accept any appointments. Refer them all to me."
"Okay, that makes sense, I guess. I've never had an assistant before so I'm kinda groping in the dark here," He admitted.
"You'll get used to it," She said, smiling disarmingly. "What else can I suggest? Ask me anything. Don't be afraid to ask it if you think it will upset me, or if you think it's stupid. Don't worry about asking twice either. You're going to be taking so much information in over the course of a day that you'll forget some things, so rely on me. It's what I'm there for."
"Great. My very own wiki?"
She chuckled. "Wiki? I like that. Okay, what else? Let's see.... be honest with me, if something annoys you let me know and I'll either agree or we'll fight about it and I'll win."
"As simple as that?" Kyle grinned.
"Probably not, but we'll figure that stuff out as we go. One last thing for now," She said, pausing. "Please don't lie to me. If you start doing that, then I can't do my job, and you'll be the person who feels the impact of that."
"Because you'll punish me?" Kyle asked, still grinning.
Patricia snorted. "No, but if that's what you're into, I think we have people for that. No, what I mean is if you're having an affair then tell me. It's no-one elses business, but if it can have a future consequence then I need to know so I can prepare, or take action to make sure it doesn't become an issue."
"Wow, okay. Well, I'm not having an affair, so that's one thing off the list."
She shook her head. "Just one of a million different things you could use as an example."
There was a knock at the door and the receptionist entered. "That's your aircraft ready for boarding. Hope you both have a good flight."
"Thanks, LeBron," Patricia said, rising and heading for the door.
"Yeah, thanks, man," Kyle added.
"Shall we?" Patricia asked, waving towards the small Jet parked on the tarmac fifty metres away.
If you're going to fly, then private luxury jet is the way to do it, Kyle thought. Big leather reclining seats, big TV, DVD's, games, great food, drinks, even a kick-ass internet connection. Bathroom with a multi-head shower, a kitchen with a proper coffee machine. Luxury in a steel tube at thirty seven thousand feet.
"Very nice," Kyle noted as he finally took his seat.
"Your first time in a luxury jet?" Patricia asked, settling herself across the small aisle from him.
He nodded. "Only ever flown with United and the seats aren't exactly spacious."
Patricia smiled. "Well, if you're flying then most of the time it will be in jets like this. You should buckle up. We'll be taking off in the next few minutes."
"Cool." Kyle did as asked and got comfortable in his leather seat, facing forward on the right side of the aircraft, while Patricia did the same to his left. As he looked around he had another of those surreal moments, wondering how the hell his day had started writing a paper on 'Project Budget Control and Financial Reporting Issues' to suddenly being on a private jet with his 'assistant' about to travel to a Caribbean island to meet sisters he never knew he had.
The thought of Katie and Kara brought the subject to the fore in his mind again and he frowned.
"Everything okay, Kyle?" Patricia asked. "Are you nervous about flying?"
"What? No, never been a nervous flyer." He considered telling her about Myrtle Beach, but figured he'd better get to know her better and then decide. Kyle knew if it was just him and his two sisters who knew what happened then he wouldn't ever need to tell anyone, but he was genuinely worried that there were five other people who already knew.
Patricia turned her head forward and settled back in her seat. "I used to be terrified whenever I got on an aircraft, but in the last nine years I've been on so many flights it doesn't bother me at all anymore."
Just at that, the Pilot of the jet appeared, introducing himself as Captain Oates. He ran through the usual safety announcement, where the lifejackets were, and that the forecast was good for the weather and the flight should be arriving on time.
He disappeared into the cockpit and locked the door and seconds later the jet was rolling onto the runway. It accelerated rapidly, pressing Kyle into his seat and then they were off the ground. He watched out the small window, looking down at streetlights and cars moving on the Interstate, seeing the glow from the city in the night sky.
As soon as the aircraft levelled off Patricia unbuckled her seat belt. "Fancy a drink?"
Kyle shrugged. "Sure."
"Well, get comfortable. We're going to be here for a while. How does a Mojito sound?"
Kyle gave her a thumbs up and unbuckled his seatbelt, then reached down and unlaced his new boots, bought earlier that day, then slid them under the seat. He pulled out his phone and checked his emails while Patricia was in the galley.
Nothing from Casey, but an email from Ed, so he opened it up.
Hey fucker,
Casey says you've fucked off on a business jaunt for a week. WTF, dude? We're meant to be poon hunting this weekend! Anyway, where the fuck are you? And how much dick are these director fuckers gonna make you suck?
Ed, Esq.
Kyle shook his head. Ed had the subtlety of a wrecking ball sometimes, but he was a good friend. He typed back a reply.
Nutsack, Busy working, preparing briefings on all kinds of stuff. Could really do without this, but if I do a good job then instant promotion. That's worth another 27K a year. Think how many beers that would buy!!! I'll be in touch in a couple of days. Stay OUT my apartment!!! You still owe me new sheets from the last time! K ps gave your number to a limo driver chick. Kinda hot, you two should have babies. :D
Patricia appeared with a large jug on a tray as well as two glasses of Mojito. Kyle could smell the lime before she even put it on the table in front of his seat.
"Emails?"
"Yeah, my buddy, Ed."
"You didn't tell him what's going on, did you?" She gave him a stern look as she sat down opposite him.
Kyle chuckled. "No, just told him it was a business trip for a week and that I might get a promotion out of it."
She nodded and sipped at her drink. "I've always loved these."
Kyle tasted his own and nodded in agreement. "Nice."
"The pastry chef on the Island does a Mojito Sorbet. It's incredible."
"Sounds it," Kyle replied. "So tell me about the Island then. What's it like?"
"It's basically paradise. It's hot, there's a gorgeous cool breeze in the evenings and the air always smells really clean. It's got white sandy beaches, clear blue water, palm trees. The accommodation is... luxury, to say the least. It's very chilled, open and bright. The main house is a mixture of ancient Japanese architecture with a beach hut twist."
Kyle laughed. "That sounds like a sales pitch."
She smiled. "It's how one of the guests described it and it's kinda stuck. Let's see. What else? Well, it's got all sorts of facilities. A gym, swimming pools, a club, recording studios, helipad and a pier for the boat. There's a couple of speedboats too if you want to go for a run. It's got state of the art facilities to run the businesses from, as well as all the usual tennis courts, medical clinic and a whole load of guest houses."
"It sounds enormous," Kyle observed. "And amazing."
"It is amazing. It's not huge though. As Islands go it's pretty small. It's built around two peaks with the main house on the western side and the guest accommodation on the eastern side. The southern side is a wide bay and the northern side is mostly cliffs, but it's gorgeous, and the view of the sunsets from the main house are incredible."
"How many people are on it?"
"Between serving staff, kitchen staff, maintenance and cleaners, as well as the Doc, the Dentist, trainers, security...."
"Quite a lot then?" Kyle asked, surprised. He thought she was going to say somewhere between seven or twelve.
"I think it's usually around ninety people residing there at a time, but they're not there permanently. Four months on, two months off is the normal rotation. Edwin is the only one who lives there though."
"Who's Edwin?"
"The Island Manager. He was involved in building the place years ago and stayed on to do upgrades and improvements. Mister Tripps lets him live there, and he runs the place like a finely tuned engine."
"That's handy, I guess." Kyle took another sip of his drink. "So what should I expect when I get there?"
Patricia smiled and put her drink down. "Well, it'll probably be a bit of a culture shock when you get there. Edwin will probably call you Master Watson, or Master Kyle. That'll be because the staff on the Island will follow his lead. You'll be waited on hand and foot, but you'll also have to work really hard."
"Doing what?"
"Everything from reading briefings on the various businesses to improving your own personal image, to..."
Kyle frowned and cut her off. "What does that mean? Improving my image?""There was an article in Forbes earlier this year and they cited that there are over twelve hundred billionaires in the world now. When Mister Tripps died the number went down by one, but now it's gone up by three. As such you'll be a public figure and you'll be photographed by the paparazzi every time you go out in public." She shrugged. "At least for a while."
"Mister Crowler mentioned something about that," Kyle said, his tone distinctily unenthusiastic.
"So as a result we have to manage your image, make sure you look like what people would expect from the son of Danny Tripps. Someone confident, cool, smart. Stylists like Margaret will take care of what you wear, how your hair is styled, etc, but what kind of shape you're in will require some work."
"Eh?" Kyle frowned, wondering if he'd just been called fat. He was in pretty decent shape, wasn't overweight and played basketball a couple of night a week with his friends.
Patricia smiled. "I'm not trying to cause offence, Kyle. Right now if someone took your picture while you were sitting on a beach your stomach would look like it was all rolls of fat, even though it isn't. So we need to tone you up and quickly."
"Is there going to be press on the Island?"
"No, but there is going to be press when you get back. That's guaranteed, so let's make sure we control what pictures are taken and by whom, and lets make sure you look great in them. That's what I mean by improving your personal image."
"So hitting the gym then?"
"That's the start of it," She nodded. "There's a trainer on the Island called Julian. He'll work with you and get everything set up for fast results."
"Okay," Kyle said, not convinced but knowing arguing about it now wouldn't change anything until he talked to this trainer guy. "What else should I expect?"
"There'll be a lot of video conferences, lots of papers to read and decisions to make, and lots of work to do, so pretty much from the moment you get up until the moment you go to bed you'll be living life by my schedule."
"Oh." The idea of paradise seemed a lot less exciting the more he discovered about it.
"Now at some point it's going to get you pissed at me because I'll be hustling you to get things done. That's understandable and expected, so I'm explaining this right now so you understand why at times I'll seem like I'm bugging you."
"Sounds delightful," Kyle chuckled.
"If your schedule creeps, ten minute delays adding to other ten minute delays, and before you know it you're two hours late getting to your bed. That's two hours less sleep than you should be getting. With me so far?"
"Yeah, and if that goes on for a few days..."
"Exactly. By that point you're not thinking straight, your decision making is poor, you feel like shit and all because you feel a little uncomfortable skipping the small talk after meetings." Patricia looked very earnest. "Now, if it affects you like that, then it affects me more. I'm up before you in the morning and down after you at night, so it's important we try and stick to the schedule as much as possible."
"Okay," Kyle nodded. "I can't promise I won't get grumpy or anything, but I'll try and do my best."
"That's all I ask," She replied, giving him a dazzling smile. Kyle smiled back.
They watched a movie on the big TV and Patricia asked him all about his life, what it was like growing up, what was his life like yesterday and in the months previous. Did he have a girlfriend, what was life like at school, what hobbies did he have. Kyle felt at a couple of points that he was being mined for data and tried to turn the questions back on her to find out the same answers about her life, but Patricia skillfully turned the questions back on him, and did it in such a way that Kyle felt relaxed and open with her.
Around one in the morning Patricia suggested they should try and get some sleep and disappeared back to the bathroom to get changed. She reappeared a few minutes later wearing a pair of jogging pants and a white t-shirt that showed the form hidden beneath the business suit.
Wow, she's frickin hot," Kyle thought as he watched her lowering the leather chair into a bed. His eyes roamed over her tight ass, her flat stomach, her full breasts. "Don't be an asshole, Kyle! After today the last thing you should be doing is hitting on your new assistant, even if she is fine. Really fucking fine."
"Are you getting changed, Kyle?" She asked, interrupting his musings.
"What? Oh, all my clothes and stuff are in the luggage in the hold." Kyle wished he'd packed a daysack or something with his Kindle in it. At least then he could read something because he didn't feel like sleeping. There was too much going on in his brain.
"You can access the hold through here," She told him, leading him past the bathroom to a panel on the wall. She pushed against it and it clicked open. The hold was small but lined on the right with his bags, a stack of small metal flightcases lining the left side.
Kyle moved forward and had to open four bags before he found a pair of track pants and his favourite hooded jersey, and grabbing his Kindle he headed for the bathroom, got changed and then slumped in his seat to read for a while.
No matter how tired Kyle felt, he couldn't seem to shut his brain down and his usual trick of reading it into unconsciousness didn't work. He was quite surprised when Captain Oates re-appeared to wake Patricia and let them know they'd be landing in thirty minutes.
"Did you get any sleep?" She asked as she sat up and rolled her neck, easing out the kinks.
"Nope," Kyle said, tapping the side of his head. "Too much going on up here."
"Make sure you let me know when you feel tired and I'll see if I can get you an hour or two," Patricia replied. She yawned. "Mind if I dive in the shower first?"
"Sure." Kyle turned back to his book but then changed his mind and went to the galley to brew some coffee. By the time he'd got it figured out Patricia re-appeared, dressed now in a pair of beige linen trousers and a white vest top with a white linen shirt over the top.
"Is that coffee I can smell?" She asked, rubbing her hair with a towel.
"Yeah, I think I've figured the machine out," Kyle grinned. "Want a latte or something?"
"Espresso, if you can manage that?"
Kyle nodded and got to work while Patricia finished towelling her hair dry. By the time he'd got his own latte sorted out and an espresso for Patricia she'd hung the towel up and opened a box of danish, muffins and scones and piled them all on a plate.
"Breakfast sorted," She announced, heading back into the cabin.
As Kyle sat with her, picking at a cherry muffin he realised how weird this was. Here he was sitting in the cabin of a private jet with a really hot blonde who was fresh from the shower, checking her emails on her phone with one hand while eating her breakfast with the other.
"I guess the surreal didn't stop with yesterday," he murmured.
"Sorry, Kyle. Didn't catch you there."
"Nothing. Just thinking out loud."
By the time he'd eaten something and drunk his coffee he barely had time for a quick shower. When he emerged, Patricia had laid out some clothes for him, a pair of dark blue denim jeans, a pair of black boots and a loose black shirt, along with a leather belt and a pair of shades.
He shrugged and went into the bathroom, got dressed and then took his seat again.
"Good timing. We're about to land," Patricia told him, still flicking away at her phone. Her hair was straightened and tied in a neat ponytail behind her, her minimal makeup was re-applied and everything was neatly packed away in the cabin.
Kyle fastened his seatbelt, suffering a nicotine craving. "Looking forward to getting off the aircraft so I can have a smoke."
Patricia laughed. "You should have just had one, Kyle. It's a private jet. You can do what you want."
"Yeah, but you don't smoke, and the whole passive smoking thing is not good," He pointed out.
"When I'm out partying I chain smoke," Patricia admitted. "Go for it. It's fine."
Kyle shrugged and lit up. He looked out the window as the aircraft descended into the clouds. He turned back to see Patricia still flicking through information on her phone.
He frowned as her words of the night before came back to him. Don't lie, tell the truth, talk to me about anything, trust in me. He wondered how much he could trust in her, specifically could he tell her about Sahara/Kara and Katie/Katarina. Did he have the courage to tell someone that he had carnal knowledge of his sisters, even if he didn't know they were his sisters at the time.
The thought of the five other people knowing swam to the fore, and he bit his lip as he considered what would happen if it ever came out.
"Patricia," He said hesitantly.
"Yeah?" Her gaze lifted up from her phone, turning to a frown as she saw his serious expression.
"Remember how you told me I should trust you, and that you needed to know about things before they became a problem so you could take action?"
"Yes."
"Well, there's something I'm going to tell you, and..."
"Kyle, whatever you tell me and whatever we talk about is between you and I," She said firmly. "Is it something bad?"
"It's kinda fucked up," He said after a moment.
"Go ahead," Patricia said, placing her phone in her lap and twisting to face him.
"Three years ago I was on spring break in Myrtle Beach. Ed, Casey and I met these girls, four of them, and we hit it off. We agreed to meet them later for drinks, but before we did we headed for a strip club, mostly because Ed's a raging pervert, but whatever."
Patricia nodded. "Okay."
"Well, I spotted this stripper that looked a lot like the girl I was chatting to earlier, one of the four, right?"
"Go on."
"So I got a lapdance from her, and it was... memorable."
"What happened?" Patricia asked.
"Oh, nothing bad. It was just... an exceptionally good lapdance," Kyle explained and blushed a little.
"Oh, okay. So was there a problem?"
"I'm coming to that. Anyway, we went and met the girls, and me and this girl who called herself Julietta hit it off. The four of them and the three of us ended up back at their place and I spent the night with Julietta."
"Alright. Was there some police involvement or something?"
"No, nothing like that. It was a great night, probably the best night of my life," Kyle continued. "Here's the problem."
Patricia sat waiting patiently for Kyle to continue, really not sure where he was going with it.
"Yesterday Mister Crowler showed me two photographs of two...."
Her hand flew to her mouth. "No fucking way," She blurted.
Kyle nodded, his expression frozen. "The stripper was named Sahara, but her real name is Kara, and the girl I spent the night with, Julietta was actually called Katie. Her full name is Katarina."
"And you didn't know?"
"Not a fucking clue," Kyle replied. "I just went on vacation, got lapdances from two strippers, spent the night with a hot chick I met at a waterpark and now I find out three years later that...." His voice trailed off.
"Okay," Patricia said after a moments thought. "Alright, I appreciate you trusting me with this Kyle." She shook her head as she thought about it, her eyes distant. "Talk about bad fucking luck."
"Tell me about it." He agreed immediately.
"Your friends know." It wasn't a question. "And so do hers."
"Yep," Kyle nodded. "And if we hit the papers they'll all realise at the same fucking instant that we've got.... history."
"Okay, we can deal with this," Patricia said quickly. "There's things we can do to ensure they stay quiet, make it in their best interests to keep this to themselves."
"Hey, I don't want anything bad to happen to them," Kyle said quickly.
"It's not like that," Patricia replied. "Positive reinforcement. We reward them for doing the right thing. If they agree to keep quiet then we can make sure they have a nice life, maybe a nice vacation every year or scholarships for any children they may have. We can remove any records of you having ever been to Myrtle Beach, things like that."
"Oh. Okay. Can it all be done quietly?"
"Very discretely," she nodded. "So run me through this again. You were with your friends, Casey and Ed?"
"Yes."
"And Katarina was...."
"Katie," Kyle said. "She told me she goes by Katie."
"Okay, Katie was with three friends?"
"Yes."
"Do you know their names?"
"I think they were fake names, but there was Margarita. She was hispanic, kinda looked a bit like Jennifer Lopez, and her and Katie seemed quite tight. There was a black girl called Shanice, I think, and Jessica was the blonde one. Really skinny," He added.
"And you don't know if these names were real or fake?"
He shrugged. "I think they were fake names, but the four of them seemed like close friends, so you might be able to get the information from Katie."
"I can find out who they are," She said firmly.
"Oh, and they all went to Business School together. In New York. I don't remember which one."
Patricia nodded. "Okay, I have to make a call, set some wheels in motion. Don't worry about this for now. It'll all be handled discretely, and nothing has been decided yet as to any courses of action. Right now it's about getting information and time is of the essence."
Kyle nodded and sank into his seat. It was almost like a bit of relief he felt, having told someone about it finally and their reaction wasn't horror or revulsion or disgust as he feared. He still knew deep down that he wasn't to know who they were, but a part of him felt sickened about it, mostly because he knew they were his favourite masturbation memories and the thought of seeing them again in the flesh gave him a tingle of excitement.
"Hi, it's Patricia," He heard her say, her phone pressed to her ear. "Yes, I've got an urgent tasking for you, personal investigations on three people, reports every twelve hours..... New York, attended Berkeley Business School between one year and four years ago... friends with Katarina Lawhead, aged 23. She dropped out two to three years ago.... Names are aliases, but they were friends with Miss Lawhead. Subject one is a hispanic female, twenty three years old, named Margarita, possibly an alias.... Yes, Subject Two is a black female, twenty three years old, named Shanice, possibly an alias.... Okay, Subject Three is a white female, twenty three years old named Jessica, possibly an alias. Blonde hair, very skinny..... No, that's all I've got."
Kyle watched her head tilted to the side, her expression intense as she listened to the person on the other end of the line.
"Okay, that's good.... Right, yes... Yes, please. Send me their files right through, no redactions." She saw Kyle looking at her and gave him a smile, and Kyle wondered what the hell was going on. How on earth they could track anyone down with as little information as that was insane, but it appeared that something was happening.
"Yes, please. Email them directly to me.... There's another two taskings for you too.... Kyle Watson's friends, Ed and Casey..... Yes, please. To my email too..... Thanks. Speak to you in a few hours." She ended the call and turned to Kyle.
"Okay, we've got the names of the three girls. The one called Margarita was actually her real name but the other two were fakes," She explained simply.
"How the hell did you do that so quickly?" Kyle blurted. "You were only on the phone for five minutes."
"Oh, the investigator I was on the call with looked up Katie's facebook photos for her spring break vacation and looked at the tags on the names."
"Oh," Kyle said, feeling a bit stupid. "As simple as that?"
"Sometimes that's all it takes," Patricia shrugged. "Anyway, they're going to start sending me information through to find out how we can get some leverage on them."
"Shit," Kyle breathed, almost frightened at the lethal efficiency he'd just seen.
Patricia looked out the window and turned back to Kyle with a smile on her face. "Welcome to Guadeloupe, Kyle."
He looked out the window, seeing the jet about to touch down on a runway. To the right he could see a small housing estate and beyond that the blue waters of the Caribbean sea. The sun was just starting to come up and it cast everything on the ground in amazing shadows.
"Wow."
"Exactly," She replied.
With a gentle bump the jet touched down and after a couple of minutes it pulled up at a small building where a black four by four waited with a couple of serious men in suits outside it. A local official waited to one side, probably to check their passports.
"That's our ride," Patricia told him. "They'll take us to the boat."
"Boat?"
"Yeah, it'll take us to the Island," She explained. "It's very cool."
Kyle shook hands with Captain Oates and thanked him for the flight, then followed Patricia across the tarmac to the waiting vehicle. Two aircrew retrieved their bags and put them in the trunk under the supervision of the two security guys while the official checked their passports, and within minutes they were off.
Kyle looked out the windows at what he expected to be an amazing sight, a whole new culture, but most of it was still asleep and it ended up being little more than mostly deserted streets. Five minutes later they took a turn onto a harbour and Kyle smiled. The view of the water looked amazing and dozens of fishing boats lined the piers at the small port.
The vehicle drove to the end quay and the Security guys got out and opened the doors for them. Kyle shook his head at how odd it seemed. He'd never had anyone guarding him before and these guys were grim and silent.
"Ah, there's Captain Wales," Patricia said. Kyle followed her gaze down the quay to where a portly man in faded jeans and a partially buttoned white shirt approached.
"Patricia," He boomed, his voice deep and strong.
"Morning, Captain. Are we ready to go?"
"As soon as you're on board," He replied. His gaze turned to Kyle and he looked him up and down. "This him? The resemblance is there."
"Kyle Watson," He said, thrusting out a hand to the Captain.
"Bart Wales," The man said, crushing Kyle's hand in a fearsome grip. "Follow me, lad."
As soon as his back was turned Kyle massaged his hand and caught Patricia grinning at him. She nodded with her head and they followed the Captain down the pier. As they neared the end Kyle caught sight of a boat in the water, unlike any he'd seen before.
He could see it was a double-hulled Catamaran, but it wasn't a sailboat. It was like two speedboats welded together then given to Ferrari to turn into something fast and cool. A large cabin sat astride the two hulls with angled windows, topped by a small seating area upstairs, and the entire ship was coated in a kind of metallic charcoal colour. It looked fast, predatory and dangerous.
"This is the Betsy," Captain Wales announced and Kyle chuckled. "Something funny, lad?"
"Not at all, Captain," He replied quickly. "I just expected her to be named Dagger or Razor or something sharp and deadly. It's a really cool boat."
"You never knew my Betsy," He winked.
Patricia led him on board and the two Security guys appeared a couple of minutes later with their bags. The other two members of the crew carried them into the cabin and stowed them out the way while Kyle and Patricia sat down.
"Do you get seasick, Kyle?"
"No idea," He replied. "I've never been at sea before."
"Okay, take one of these pills," Patricia replied, taking a bottle from her bag. She took one of the pills out and popped it in her own mouth then handed the bottle to Kyle. "They're anti-nausea medication."
"They're yours?"
"Yes," She nodded. "I have to take them everytime I come on the boat."Kyle nodded and looked around for something to wash the pill down with. He found a bottle of water in the galley and took the pill, then joined Patricia on the sofa.
"This boat's something," She said, a warning note in her voice. "You want to be seated when it opens up."
"Should we go upstairs?" Kyle suggested. The boat had really got his attention and he wanted to see what it was like.
"Sure," Patricia nodded and they headed out the back and up the stairs.
"Come to enjoy the ride?" Captain Wales asked as they appeared on the upper deck. He was standing beside a large console with one hand on a steering wheel and the other on a large lever. "We're just about to cast off."
"Kyle wants to see what it's like when you open her up, Captain," Patricia told him, and Kyle detected a hint of amusement in her tone.
The Captain grinned and looked over the side of the boat. "We good?" He called down, then grunted a moment later, hit some buttons on the console and Kyle felt the big engines come to life. The sheer power vibrated through his feet.
"Wow," He murmured.
"I know," Patricia replied. "It's gets better."
"Can't wait."
The Captain moved the lever forward an inch and the boat began to move away from the quay slowly until they were clear of the other boats. A turn of the wheel had the nose pulling around to the right towards the open water.
"Hold tight, kids," Captain Wales told them, and he pushed the lever most of the way forward.
Kyle was pressed right back in his seat as the engines roared and the nose of the boat lifted. For a terrifying second he thought the boat was going to flip over, but then it raced forward. The wind was blasting through his hair in seconds as the Catamaran blasted out to sea. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing a huge spray of water coming up behind him from the back of the boat.
"Holy fucking shit," He grinned, and laughed as he saw Patricia laughing at his expression. "This is seriously bad ass."
Kyle sat on the upper deck for ten minutes, revelling in the blast of fresh air in his face, but he began to yawn so Patricia suggested they went back downstairs. Once they were seated in the cabin one of Captain Wales' crew brought them coffee and fruit juice, and Kyle poured himself a cup.
"So I need to talk to you about Security, Kyle."
"Okay," Kyle nodded. He figured that there was bound to be some security on the island, so he was about to get a briefing on it.
"From this point forward, and in many different ways, you're going to be a target," She said flatly, taking him by surprise.
He blinked. "A target?"
"Yes. In many different ways. Because you're worth a lot of money, you'll be a high-level target for kidnappers, people will try and con you, the media will pursue you, women will try and seduce you, politicians will try and court you, basically you'll be sought after in many different ways."
Kyle laughed, drawing a frown from Patricia. It wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting, but it was one particular line in there that made him laugh.
"Women will try and seduce me? I think you can chalk that one off as a non-existant threat," He told her.
For all Kyle's life he'd been the pursuer, and not particularly successful at it either. He'd had a few girlfriends, but nothing serious, and certainly no-one he wanted to spend a great deal of time with either with the exception of Katie, but he'd always had to do the work. Kyle didn't think a woman had ever put the moves on him in his entire life.
Patricia sighed and clasped her hands together. "Okay, Kyle. How much do you know about perception?"
"You mean what you see?"
"No, I mean how others see you. How your perception of yourself differs from how others see you."
He shrugged. "I can't say I've given it much thought. You mean like an image though?"
"Sort of. Let me explain how people will perceive you, assuming you end up accepting everything thats on offer from this trip."
"Okay," He replied, no longer laughing.
"From out of nowhere comes this guy, one of the heirs to the Tripps billions, and he looks a lot like Danny Tripps himself. He's slim, in pretty decent shape and by the time the stylists have been over him, he's looking pretty good. He's got a degree in Business from Stamford so he's bright, and no-one really knows anything about him. With me so far?"
Kyle nodded, listening.
"So there's this guy. Rich, tall, dark hair, well groomed, smartly dressed and single. He's got sports cars, helicopters, boats and an unlimited supply of cash, so he can pretty much do whatever he wants, go wherever he wants and anyone he chooses to take with him is going to have the time of their life, right?"
"Yeah, but that's not me," He pointed out.
"That's how people will perceive you though," Patricia said quickly. "Guys will be envious of you, women will be attracted to you, and you'll be on the cover of magazines all over the world."
Despite the tablet earlier, he suddenly felt his stomach tense right up. Kyle shook his head. "I'm sorry though, Patricia, but I'm not an attractive guy. I've never been good with women and I've always had to do the chasing."
"And in the future, many of the women who would have laughed in your face before will throw themselves at you."
"Why?"
"Because you have everything they could possibly desire," She shrugged. "On a genetic level you'll turn some women on simply because you'll be able to care better for any possible children they could have and that'll make them want to mate with you. One of those genetic urges. Like why so many women think Simon Cowell is hot."
"I thought that was because he oozed confidence though."
"So does a double-glazing salesman," she pointed out. "Besides, soon you'll have more confidence about you than even Simon Cowell does. Plus, he's a asshole. You don't seem like that kind of guy."
Kyle rubbed at his head for a minute, thinking. "So if what you say turns out to be true, I can pretty much get my pick of women?"
"Pretty much," She agreed. "And therein lies the problem. If women are easy for you, then the ones who play hard to get become attractive to you, right? That means you can be manipulated. Then you score and the next thing there's a sex-tape on the internet, and some girls famous. Or you've got a baby scandal on your hands and you're paying millions every year in alimony payments and some girl who's smart enough to seduce you gets set up for life. Do you see where I'm coming from?"
"I guess," He shrugged. "I'm still not convinced that women will throw themselves at me though. That sounds a little too surreal, even for the weirdest day ever."
"Well, that's only one particular threat out of many. Throw in the risk of kidnappers, conmen, paparazzi, people trying to spike your drinks, and basically your life just became a lot more restricted than you thought it might be."
"So if you're right, then I'll have the money to be able to do whatever I want, but I won't be able to do whatever I want?"
"That's about right," Patricia nodded.
"Whereas yesterday I could do whatever I wanted, but didn't have the money to do whatever I wanted," He stated.
"More or less."
"So what's the point in being rich?"
"Different people want to do different things, have different motivations," Patricia explained. "As soon as you figure out what you want to do with your life then you'll have goals you can strive towards. For now, just take each day at a time and try not to go crazy."
Kyle sat and thought about that for a few minutes then asked another question.
"So how does it work then?"
"The security side of things? You'll have a bodyguard, or more usually several, depending on where you are and what you're doing, but there'll be one guy who stays with you, looks after you and advises you if something's too risky. I'd suggest you listen to him if he says that though."
"So who's mine?" Kyle asked.
"That depends who you appoint. We do have a shortlist of suitable candidates though, but in the meantime, the island is secure so it's not an immediately pressing concern."
A thought struck Kyle. "Is that why this boat's so kick-ass, but only used as a ferry?"
Patricia smiled, pleased that he'd made the connection. "If we're on the water, then we're vulnerable, so the boat has the power to get us far away from any threats very quickly, and if there's any we can't outrun, then Captain Wales and his crew are more than capable of fighting off any threats. He's an ex SEAL. So are his crew."
"Wow," Kyle murmured. This was serious stuff, he realised and he sat quietly considering it all for a while. If what Patricia said was true, and even if he ended up returning to his normal life after a few days, he'd still be a target. Kyle's life had well and truly changed.
He still didn't know if it was for the better, but it was certainly going to be different.
The Island came into view and Kyle stood up at the windows for a better look. It was gorgeous, a tropical paradise of palm trees and beautiful white sandy beaches. The cliffs that rose up out of the water to the east and west were natural and rugged and the structures he could see seemed to enhance the natural beauty rather than detract from it.
"It's better than I imagined," Kyle admitted.
"I know," Patricia said, standing beside him. "I love it here."
Kyle could feel the nerves building in his stomach again as the boat approached the pier and all too soon it was alongside it, the crew tying the Betsy against it. He could see several people waiting at the end of the pier and he took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
"What's the Island Manager guy's name again?" He asked.
"Edwin," Patricia replied. "It's the guy there with the white hair and the black shirt. He always wears black shirts."
"Why?" Kyle asked, more to keep the conversation going than out of any real interest.
"Don't know. He just always does." Patricia chuckled. "I've no idea why I even brought that up."
"So what happens now?"
She turned to face him. "You'll meet Edwin. He'll walk you up to the main house, show you your suite and probably give you a quick briefing on the Island over a cup of tea. He likes his cups of tea. Anyway, by the time he's done with that your luggage should be in your suite, and you've got around eight hours before your sisters arrive."
"They're both coming?" Kyle asked, not knowing how Mister Crowler had got on with them.
"Oh, did I not say?" Patricia scowled. "Sorry, Kyle. Yes, they're both coming."
"Okay." He felt that little lurch of excitement at the thought of seeing them again, and looked unhappy.
"Kyle. Can I just say something," Patricia said softly, moving a step closer to him.
"Sure."
"You know it can't happen again, right?" She said, her voice low. "You and Katie, I mean."
"Oh, I know," He replied immediately. "Believe me, I know. This is fucked up enough without anything else happening."
She nodded quickly. "Good. I just wanted to... make sure you knew."
"I definitely know," Kyle replied.
"Good. Shall we disembark then?" Patricia smiled. "Go and explore paradise? We can run through the rest of your schedule later."
Kyle squared his shoulders and nodded. "Okay."
Patricia led him up the gangplank onto the pier where the first person to step forward was Edwin, an elderly gent in his early sixties. They shook hands.
"Welcome to the Island, Master Watson," Edwin said, his accent like the stiff upper lip British you'd hear in an old sitcom like Fawlty Towers.
"Kyle's fine, Edwin, and thanks."
"Master Kyle then," He said. "Welcome to the Island. If you'd care to follow me?"
Kyle nodded, realising he wasn't going to be introduced to the four men and women waiting nearby. They were dressed identically in purple polo shirts and black trousers, and he realised they must be some of the staff from the Island, probably there to carry his bags.
Edwin began walking along the wooden pier, its thick planks held up by wide round posts sunk into the ground that reached waist height.
Kyle followed, feeling the heat already in the air despite it only being an hour or so since the sun came up. The water on either side of the pier was the clearest blue he'd ever seen, like something from a picture postcard, and the white sand on the beach matched it perfectly.
The pier ended at a wide flagstoned pathway leading straight up the beach and into the trees and Edwin led them straight up. "This is the main pathway up from the dock, Master Kyle," Edwin explained as they walked. "There are a number of pathways criss-crossing the Island, but I'm not going to show you them all now. We're simply going to head for the main house, which is directly up this hill."
The path was quite steep as it rose up from the beach, but not at such an angle that stairs were required. As they entered the treeline Kyle slowed and looked at the Palm trees shading them, rising tall and majestic in a myriad of curves, casting angular shadows over the path.
"Please keep up, Master Kyle," Edwin said briskly as he strode ahead. Kyle glanced at Patricia, who gave him a quick grin then nodded with her head that he should get going.
They continued up the sloping path, veering around a couple of small buildings that Edwin identified as a Security office and a storeroom for scuba equipment, and then a large two-story building came into view.
"The lower floor of this building houses the Islands medical facilities and some administrative offices. The upper floor is my home and office, should you ever need to find me," Edwin announced. "Our path leads to the left now."
They rounded the building and Kyle found himself on a wide wooden walkway that reminded him of Mister Miyagi's garden in the original Karate Kid movie. It was slightly above the level of the gardens beneath it and lined by palm trees on either side. The far Eastern influences were obvious, and as his eyes followed it he paused, seeing the main house for the first time.
It was a mixture of ancient Japanese and Caribbean, a strange combination, but one that really worked in the surroundings. A two story central tower was flanked on either side by three story towers, the main structural beams all wooden and instead of rice paper doors and walls it was a mixture of opaque and clear glass. The roofs were circular, like you'd expect in a beach hut, and the whole structure looked like it was made from natural materials.
"That's gorgeous," Kyle blurted.
"Thank you very much, Master Kyle," Edwin replied, stopping. "It took me nearly four months to get the designs right and another eight months to build it, but I am rather proud of it."
"You designed it?"
"Yes, Master Kyle," The old man nodded. "Architecture has always held a fascination for me. In fact, I'm fortunate enough to say, all the buildings on the Island were my designs."
"That's very impressive," Kyle said and saw the old man smile.
"If you'll follow me?" Edwin led off again, heading for the main house.
"Well done, Kyle," Patricia whispered as they moved to follow. "Edwin likes being flattered."
Kyle shrugged and nodded, not really meaning to do it as he was just being honest.
They followed Edwin up to a wide flagstoned patio and as they approached the house, Kyle could see inside it. The central tower must have been sixty feet wide and the ground floor was smooth polished wood that shone as the light reflected off it. A dining table that must be able to seat thirty people took up the right side of the room, and the left was split into several seating areas, wide sofas and coffee tables, and a massive fireplace sat against the wall. A wide thoroughfare led straight out open doors at the other side to a large decked area and an infinity pool with a view straight over the ocean.
"Oh, wow."
"Oh, yes," Patricia replied. "Wait until you see the rooms."
As Edwin led them inside Kyle could see wooden staircases on the far corners of the room leading to the floor above and wide doorways under them leading to the flanking towers.
"This place is amazing," Kyle said, his eyes continually roving around the room. Photographs of the Island were dotted around the walls, along with vases of flowers and plants in pots. Baskets of fruit sat on the coffee tables and as they walked out the other side of the house Kyle saw the pool area.
The two flanking towers had buildings behind them, he saw, two story rectangular structures that enclosed the main house right to the edge of the cliffs, sheltering the pool area on three sides, the other side opening to the ocean. Deckchairs and sunloungers lay to the right and left of the large pool and a canopied area with tables and chairs sat to his immediate right.
"Welcome to the main house, Master Kyle," Edwin said, turning to face him. "I'll just give you a quick description of the layout, if that's alright?"
"Sure."
"Well, the main social area of the house we've just been through, and your suite is located on the floor above," Edwin stated. "If you look you can see the balcony that overlooks the pool area and runs around the upper floor of the three towers."
"I bet the view is amazing up there," Kyle muttered.
"The sunsets are rather spectacular as it faces the West," Edwin replied. "Now, to the right of the pool is a bar and restaurant, with two small guest suites above it."
"Sorry to interrupt, Edwin," Kyle said as he looked at the building. "Is it okay if I smoke out here? I don't know what the rules are, and..."
Edwin raised his hand in the air and snapped his fingers. One of the staff appeared from inside the house. "Bring Master Kyle an ashtray." The old man turned back to them. "Where are my manners? What would you like to drink, Master Kyle?"
Kyle shrugged, not really knowing. It was too hot for coffee and he felt tired and grubby from the travel and a lack of sleep. "Some fruit juice or something?"
"Two orange, peach and cranberry juices please, Ellen," Patricia said, addressing the member of staff directly. She nodded and disappeared. "I hope that's okay? It's nice and refreshing, Kyle."
"It sounds it." Kyle took out his cigarettes and lit up.
"Moving on, on the opposite side of the pool is a business suite on the lower floor and another two guest suites above it. The business suite continues through to the ground floor of the tower here, and links up with the main room."
"That's a lot of business suite," Kyle noted.
"Mister Tripps liked to conduct a lot of business here," Edwin replied. "On the middle floor of each of the towers are large suites, similar in size to your own. Your sisters will have them, Kara on the right and Katarina on the left."
"So on either side of mine then?"
"That's correct, Master Kyle."
"Okay," He nodded, not entirely sure what to say next. It was all quite overwhelming.
"That leaves the ground floor of the left tower, which contains a small cinema, a couple of meeting rooms and some staff facilities. The top floors of each of the towers are used to house our communications equipment and IT infrastructure."
"Server rooms?"
The old man shrugged. "It's a little more complicated than that, but in essence, yes."
"That's a lot of room."
"Yes, Master Kyle," Edwin replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me for a few minutes I'll go and check on your suite."
As the old man disappeared into the house Kyle looked around.
"This place is stunning. How do you get any work done? I'd just be sitting looking around all day."
Patricia chuckled. "You get used to it."
Kyle smiled and walked over to the edge of the deck where it looked over the ocean. The view was spectacular, miles and miles of ocean stretching into the distance.
"Where do you stay when you're here?""I have accommodation that I share with Lakshmi, one of the other Executive Assistants. It's just to the left as you go out the main house, but because of.... everything that's going on, I'll be staying in your suite."
Kyle cocked an eyebrow at that.
"If that's okay with you, of course?" She added. "Your suite has two en-suite bedrooms in it, as well as a dressing room, office and lounge area. Plus there's the balcony."
"Holy shit," Kyle muttered. "It's the whole floor?"
She nodded, smiling. "Taking a bit of getting used to?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
Ellen appeared with the ashtray for Kyle and two large glasses of fruit juice on ice, garnished with straws and orange wedges on the rim of the glass. Kyle sipped at the drink, finding it delicious and refreshing.
"Thanks, Helen," He said as she disappeared again, pleased when she turned and smiled. Having staff to answer his beck and call was something that seemed really bizarre to Kyle, so he was determined to know their names at the very least.
"Kyle," Patricia said, a grin on her face.
"Yeah?"
"Her name's Ellen, not Helen."
"Oh, balls." Kyle grunted. "So much for learning peoples names."
"If you want to do that we'll get the staff to wear name badges for a while." She suggested.
"That'd be helpful," Kyle nodded. "I suck at remembering peoples names, but the idea of having staff is.... odd. Know what I mean?"
"As the primary member of your personal staff the idea doesn't seem odd to me at all," She laughed. "Just try and relax if you can. Want to run through your schedule for the day? There's a lot to do."
Kyle nodded and sat down at a small table outside the bar. "Go for it."
"Okay, once we've seen your suite we're off to see Doctor Kerr, the Islands physician to give you a checkup and any innoculations you're behind on. If we have time after that we can get you in to see the Dentist too for a quick checkup. Margaret will want to fit you for a tailored suit and explain your wardrobe to you and then we'll get you down to the salon for a haircut."
"It sounds like I'm on Extreme Makeover," Kyle muttered.
Patricia chuckled. "It's actually all about getting you to look good for meeting your sisters." She gave him a pointed look then added. "For the first time."
Kyle frowned, not needing the reminder of her unworded message. "Okay."
"I've got about three hours cleared for you to get some sleep, assuming you're going to need it," Patricia continued. "Once Mister Crowler arrives then the three of you will be in a meeting with him so that he can read you Mister Tripps will, and then I've got time set aside with you to answer any questions you'll have."
"Do you know what's in it? The will, I mean."
Patricia paused, then nodded. "Yes, but I can't tell you what it says, Kyle. I'm not allowed, and anyway, it's only a few hours away."
Kyle frowned but nodded. "So what else?"
"Well, there's lunch and dinner too, and some time for you to chat with Kara and Katie. I can tell you that Mister Tripps was keen for the three of you to get to know each other, so over the next few days you'll be doing a lot together."
"A lot of what?"
"Briefings, meetings, activities, meals." Patricia shrugged. "Nothings firmed up yet for times and dates, but I'll be managing your schedule carefully to make sure you're not snowed under, okay?"
"And don't accept any meetings myself," Kyle stated, remembering her advice.
"Correct."
As Kyle stubbed out his cigarette he caught sight of Edwin on the balcony, beckoning him up.
"Looks like your suite's ready," Patricia said, rising to her feet.
"Okay," Kyle said, grabbing his glass and following her. She led him into the central building and up the stairs, back along a landing, and then he was up on the balcony overlooking the pool.
"Oh, wow," He muttered. "It looks even better from up here."
"As I said, Master Kyle," Edwin replied. "Wait until sunset. Now, this is your suite."
Kyle turned around and looked in. The glass doors had been folded back along the entire length of the balcony revelaing a bright, wide room. Several leather sofas sat around a huge TV on the left side of the room, and on the right sat several desks with computers and phones on them. The middle of the room was wide and spacious, more polished wood floors leading to a series of individual white walls, angled to break up the view of whatever was behind them.
"If you'll follow me, Master Kyle."
Edwin led them inside, ignoring the office area, but explaining that the sofa's were the winnings of a wager between Danny Tripps and Steve Jobs and the wooden coffee table between them was crafted by Harrison Ford as a gift. Kyle didn't quite know what to say, finding it all very surreal.
He followed the old man through a gap in the walls, seeing a bedroom off to the right, and then it opened up to a large area at the back. Directly in front of him was a very large bed, a four poster draped at the corners with fine linen. To either side of it the white walls curved from the sides to the back, with archways in each.
"To your left is your en-suite bathroom, Master Kyle," Edwin explained. "Over on the right is your dressing room. Your luggage has been unpacked, although many of the items are being pressed and will be returned within the hour."
"This is my bedroom?" Kyle asked, looking around. A couple of big armchairs sat to the right with another TV on the wall, while the left side of the room was covered in bookcases.
"This is it, Kyle," Patricia told him. "My room is just over there," She added, pointing to the right at the bedroom he'd spotted as they came in.
"This is messed up," He muttered, feeling really awkward. He'd never been in such luxury in his life, let alone inheriting it. The idea of being an owner of this... paradise was overwhelming.
"Can you give us a minute please, Edwin," Patricia said quickly. As the old man disappeared, she took Kyle by the elbow and steered him over to the bed and sat him down. "Are you okay?"
He spread his hands, looking around. "This is insane."
Patricia frowned. "Maybe you should get some sleep, Kyle. You'll feel better for it."
Kyle shrugged, knowing he was exhausted but there was just too much going on in his head. "I don't think I could sleep if I tried."
"Try," She said firmly. "What's your usual sleeping habits?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you sleep on one side of the bed in particular? Do you wear pyjamas or sleep in the nude? Do you usually read, or watch TV, or just shut your eyes until you drift off?"
"Let's see. I usually sleep on the right side of the bed, and I don't wear pyjamas," He explained.
"You sleep in the nude?"
Kyle blushed a little, but nodded.
Patricia shrugged. "It's no biggie. Me too. What about before you drift off?"
Kyle grinned sheepishly.
"Okay," Patricia said immediately. "Probably time we had a frank discussion, actually."
Kyle sat upright, wondering where this was going.
"I worked for Danny Tripps for a long time. It's a demanding job, often with eighteen hour days, meetings, office days, social events, vacations, everywhere he went I went."
"Okay."
"You can't work that closely with someone without knowing a lot about them personally," She continued. "When it came to Mister Tripps I knew almost everything."
"Like personal stuff?"
"Very personal stuff," She nodded. "Intimate stuff. I can't tell you how many times I've seen him naked, or he's seen me naked. When you pretty much live with someone in hotel rooms, places like this, or you're getting changed in a limo between a meeting and a social engagement, it kind of makes personal modesty a bit of a nuisance."
"It kind of sounds a bit... above and beyond the job description," Kyle said, really not sure where she was going with this. The thought of seeing Patricia naked at some point definitely held a great deal of appeal though.
"Let me give you a hypothetical example," She said, grinning. "You lie down here and go to sleep, right. I come and wake you up in a few hours and you need to urinate. What does that mean?"
"I need to go to the bathroom," Kyle shrugged.
She rolled her eyes. "If you're asleep and you need to urinate, how does your body react?"
"Oh," Kyle said quickly. "I'd get an... erection."
"Right," She nodded. "So I've come in to wake you up, you're lying sleeping on your back with only a sheet covering you and you've got a bad case of morning wood." Patricia grinned. "Do you think I'm not going to notice?"
Kyle laughed. "Okay. So I won't sleep on my back."
She shook her head. "The point I'm making is that stuff like this is going to happen. At some point I'll see things, you'll see things, and it's important that you don't get all bent out of shape about it."
Kyle just shook his head. Another bizarre conversation amidst a series of bizarre experiences.
"Let me give you another example," She continued. "From time to time Mister Tripps would entertain... female company. I would sometimes make the arrangements."
"You mean hookers?" Kyle asked bluntly, frowning.
Patricia laughed and shook her head. "Do you think Mister Tripps ever had to pay someone to sleep with him?"
Kyle thought back to all the times he'd seen him in magazines or on the TV, often with a model or actress or singer on his arm. He was a common recurrence on the top 100 bachelors lists on a frequent basis.
"I guess not," He replied. "But then some people like that."
"They do," Patricia nodded. "If that's something you're into then I can arrange that for you too."
"Hookers?"
She nodded calmly as if it was like ordering a sandwich. "Sure."
"Not really to my tastes," Kyle said, shaking his head.
She smiled. "I didn't think so. That's good for me. However, if you're attending film premieres or public events, sometimes it will be good for your profile to have someone on your arm."
"A girl?"
"Yes, but more specifically a public figure. Actress, musician, model, TV presenter. We tend to steer clear of the reality TV crowd."
"So you arrange stuff like that?"
"Sure," Patricia nodded. "Sometimes it's only for walking the carpet, get a few pictures. Sometimes it's a real date. Occasionally it's a hookup."
"Holy shit. Talk about a different world."
"That's one of the million reasons why I'm here, Kyle," She reminded him. "It'd primarily business but I'm here to help you personally too. There's lots to learn and I'm here to help. Now, back to the topic at hand. Getting you some sleep."
"Yeah."
"I'm gonna be blunt here, Kyle. Sometimes it's the best way," She said, looking him in the eye. "Most people masturbate before they go to sleep. I take it you do too?"
Kyle laughed, unable to hide the slight blush that hit his cheeks. "And I thought all this was insane before."
"You'll get used to it. Incidentally, if I know this now then it means I won't be walking in on you midway through."
"Okay, fair enough. Yeah, I usually do." His thought flitted to Katie and Kara, the inspiration for many of his late night fantasies. He pushed those thoughts away, knowing that to think of that now was kinda fucked up.
"Okay. I'm more of a shower girl myself," Patricia added, shrugging. "Fair's fair, so if you tell me, I'll tell you."
"That's gonna mess with my head," Kyle said, grinning.
"You'll get over it," Patricia chuckled.
"You sure? In the last five minutes you've talked about me having erections, told me I'll see you naked tons of times and told me how you play with yourself. You do realise you're really hot, right?"
Patricia laughed. "Oh, I know where this conversations headed, and I'm telling you, accept right now that it's never going to happen, Kyle."
"What? Me and you?" The idea was tantalising, and maybe it was lack of sleep but Kyle decided to throw caution to the wind. "I think it's a great idea."
"It's never gonna happen, Kyle," She said, smiling. "It never happened with Mister Tripps, and it's not going to happen with you either. We won't have that type of relationship."
Kyle chuckled. "Well that's a bit depressing."
"Let me clarify something. You've seen your friends Ed and Casey naked, right?"
Kyle screwed up his face. "Why did you have to put that thought in my head?"
Patricia chuckled. "They're your friends, right? You sometimes see things with them, but it doesn't make it a sexual thing. You don't actively look, but sometimes you see stuff. Sometimes you even joke about it, right?"
"I guess."
"Well, think of me that way."
Kyle chuckled. "You know you're a woman though, and they're guys, right?"
"As I said, you'll get used to it. We don't cross that line though, okay? I can't do my job if things start getting weird... emotional, know what I mean?"
Kyle saw she was being serious and met her gaze. "I hear what you're saying," He said finally. "There'll be moments, but if we talk about it now, then it won't be a big deal when it happens and we can just move on, right?"
"Pretty much."
"You know you're hot though, right?" Kyle grinned.
"Oh, I know it. I know at some point you'll get drunk and make a move on me too, and I'll have to put you to your bed and mock you mercilessly for days about it. I know at some point I might even get a bit smitten with you, but I'll get over it." She shrugged. "The gist of this conversation? You can talk to me about anything. I'll help you out with whatever you want or need, no judgements, but there's a line. Fair enough?"
Kyle frowned but nodded. "I guess so. This couldn't have been easy for you to bring up."
Patricia laughed. "I've been planning this conversation in my head for two days."
"Did it go as planned?"
"Nowhere near it," She laughed. "But I think we're pretty clear on where we stand, right?"
"Yeah," Kyle nodded, actually feeling closer to her now as a result of it.
Patricia grinned. "And you know that it's not an invite to just walk in on me when I'm showering?"
Kyle chuckled. "Well, the temptation will be there, but I'll restrain myself."
"Good," She said. "Now try and get some sleep. And if you need some female company, just let me know. There's a very good masseuse who works on the Island, and she's certainly enthusiastic."
Kyle's eyes widened. "You mean?"
"I mean she was about to go into a career in porn because she's that enthusiastic."
"You're kidding?"
"Nope."
"So that's why she works on the Island?" Kyle asked, his eyebrows raised.
"Actually not at all," Patricia replied. "She's a first class massage therapist and a very good physio too. She just happens to have a very high sex drive and an open attitude about it."
"Sounds like the perfect girlfriend," Kyle laughed.
"Maybe in your old life," Patricia smiled. "Now you'll have to get someone more in line with your status. Once we get you in shape, of course."
"Oh yeah. The personal trainer," Kyle said, deliberately looking glum but kind of relieved to change the subject. He was all too aware that the conversation with Patricia was creating a little tingly feeling, but the thought of her arranging a casual hookup for him with someone who might work for him made him more than a little uncomfortable.
"When you've got a rippling six-pack and pecs that women drool over you can thank him."
Kyle shook his head. "Patricia, you seem pretty sure I'm going to get plenty women. I know that Danny Tripps was pictured with all these different hotties all the time, but I've never been successful in chasing girls."
He stood up, wanting to go outside to have a smoke. Patricia followed.
"Kyle, there's something you should understand about Mister Tripps," She said as they walked back through the suite. "I only put this together a few days ago, but in all the time I knew him I never saw him fall in love with anyone. He would date these beautiful women, but only for a few weeks at a time and then he'd withdraw. I don't think he liked letting people get close to him."
Kyle sat on a wooden armchair on the balcony and lit up, listening intently to Patricia talk about the man, not the public figure.
"People like Edwin or Mister Crowler became like brothers to him, and in some ways he treated us, me and the other assistants, like his family, but he was always that bit withdrawn, as if there was something he kept inside himself that no-one could touch."
"Okay."
"I think he loved his wife so much that after she died, when you and your sisters were born, it kind of broke him. I think he wouldn't allow himself to feel pain like that again, so he never allowed anyone to get close to him in an intimate way."
"Sounds like a shit way to live," Kyle said, meaning it.
"It sounds lonely," Patricia replied. "The thing is, he acted like he wasn't. Now I just think it was all a front, but I'm sure inside he was miserable. It would certainly explain why he was a workaholic."
Kyle sat for a moment thinking about that. "You know, he didn't need to give me up. Or Katie and Kara. He had the means to take care of us, and I get it. It must be tough to lose your wife, but other people do it and carry on every day."
"Actually, at the time he didn't really have the means. He was up to his eyeballs in debt for years, taking on as much as he could manage to grow the business as fast as possible. He was in a real technology race and couldn't afford to fall behind, so really, he didn't have the means back then."
"He could have managed," Kyle said flatly.
"Maybe," Patricia allowed. "The truth is we'll never know. You can find out a lot of information and make educated guesses, but the only person who knew the rationale behind everything was Danny."
"I suppose," Kyle shrugged. "Hey, what did you mean earlier when you said someone more my status?"
"Oh, that." Patricia said, taking a seat. "I mean that you can't just turn up at a black-tie event with some girl who works in the local Walmart and lives with her parents."
"Why not? Lots of good people work in Walmart," Kyle said, frowning.
"Because it's not what's expected of you. Because it's not someone you'll have much in common with, and because there would be this enormous gulf between you. You wouldn't be equals, or even in the same social circles."
"Different can be good though."
"Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking down on people or being elitist when I say this, Kyle," Patricia explained. "Imagine a year from now what you'd have to talk about. She's just had a shit day at work because a customers kid peed in one of the aisles and she had to clean it up. You just flew into town from Hong Kong on a private jet, dumped your stuff in a nearby mansion and met with Giorgio Armani for lunch."
Kyle frowned. "It doesn't mean it couldn't happen though."
"No, it doesn't," She agreed. "But it would take a special kind of woman not to be intimidated or out of her league holding her own in a conversation at a dinner with three movie stars and a couple of millionaires while the media dig into her life for the latest exclusive scraps and scandal. No disrespect to the staff at Walmart or anyone else who works their ass off to put food on the table, but there aren't many people like that around."
"So what's my options then?" Kyle asked out of frustration. "It's not that I'm looking for a girlfriend, by the way. I think my life's complicated enough right now."
Patricia chuckled. "Yeah, I hear you. Okay, options. You can date athletes, actresses, musicians, socialites, anyone with the means to retire in their twenties, basically. Oh, and they have to be hot."
"Why?" Kyle blurted, not that he objected.
"That's a social profile thing. People will expect you to be confident, on top of your game, so you date beautiful women. It makes you look powerful and it's good for business.""You're joking," Kyle said, but from her expression he could see she was serious. "And that's how I'm meant to live my life?"
"Kyle, is there something wrong with dating someone beautiful, talented and successful?" Patricia asked, an amused smile on her face.
Kyle shook his head, finding this conversation a bit much. "I think I'm getting irritable. I'm going to try and have that sleep now, I think."
"Good idea," Patricia nodded. "I'll wake you in a few hours."
As Kyle stripped off in the bedroom and slipped under the sheet he thought about what had happened since he got out of bed over twenty four hours ago. Adoption, inheritance, the cruel twist of fate when it came to his siblings, Patricia, where he was and what was else was happening to him. It was like watching a movie, he realised. A series of insane events happening to someone else.
His thoughts drifted back to Patricia. Kyle knew she was hot, and she knew he thought so. He wondered what the hell that conversation was about, telling him she frigged herself in the shower. How the hell was he meant to sleep after that.
"Kyle."
"I'm awake," He blurted, feeling Patricia shaking his shoulder. "Hello."
"Have a good nap?"
"Uh.. What?"
Kyle looked around, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he tried to focus. He remembered where he was instantly, exactly where he was, what had happened and what was about to, but he felt like he'd only just nodded off.
"What time is it?"
"It's one. You've slept for nearly six hours."
"Oh, balls," He muttered. "What time are they arriving?"
"You've got a couple of hours," Patricia grinned.
Kyle was lying in the middle of the bed on his side and Patricia was sitting on the edge.
"I figured it's time you woke up, had some lunch and then met with a few people before your sisters arrive, so you need to get up and get in the shower, Kyle."
He rubbed at his eyes and yawned. "Okay."
"I've already turned the shower on for you so you can walk right in. Towels are on the rail." Patricia got up and walked away from the bed, her back to him. "Move it, sleepyhead."
Kyle looked in the doorway to the bathroom, the soft light in the oval white room coming from the floor. "Patricia, is the lighting in the bathroom from the floor, or are my eyes screwed up?"
"Clever, isn't it?" She replied. "The white walls reflect the light to give you an even soft light. No harsh lights or shadows in your face."
"It's weird," Kyle grunted. "I'm getting up now."
"Finally," She chuckled.
Kyle slipped out the bed, all too aware he was naked and Patricia was only six feet away, her back turned. He shook his head and walked into the bathroom, idly noting that there was no door, just an arched gap in the wall. The glass shower cubicle looked roomy and Kyle stepped inside and closed the door. As soon as it closed he blinked as the walls turned from clear to an opaque white.
The water wasn't like a normal shower, but came from a series of heads and vents, more like a steam clean than a blast of hot water, but it enveloped him in a foggy cloud of warm moisture that both cleaned and refreshed him at the same time.
"You in the shower now?"
"Yeah, the glass stopped being clear," Kyle called back. "Kinda freaky." He heard her heels click on the floor as she entered the bathroom.
"So here's what's happening," Patricia said.
"You're in here while I'm showering?" Kyle said, chuckling. He grabbed a bottle of shower gel and sniffed at it.
"You can't see me, I can't see you," Patricia pointed out. "It saves me shouting from outside the room."
Kyle smiled and shook his head at the strangeness of it all. He squeezed out a dollop of gel and began to soap up.
"When you get out the shower we'll have some lunch, and then Margaret will join us. Try not to get crabby with her."
"Is she that annoying?" Kyle asked, soaping his chest and stomach.
"Sometimes, but keep that to yourself," Patricia replied. "Then we're off down to see Julian, the personal trainer. He'll start putting a program together for you. After that we see the Doc, then back here to get changed."
"How many times a day do I need to get changed?" Kyle asked. "I seem to be going through a weeks worth of clothes in the last twenty four hours alone."
"You got something against looking good?" Patricia laughed.
Kyle didn't reply. It was a bit weird soaping his balls up while he talked to her. He paused as he realised he could be standing here jerking off while she sat a few feet away and she'd be none the wiser. His cock gave a slight lurch in response to the idea, but he shook his head and moved on.
"So after I get changed? What then?"
"You go to meet your sisters, Kyle."
"Fuck," he muttered.
"Nervous?"
"Terrified," He admitted. "Looking forward to it, but also shit scared, if you know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I do," Patricia replied. "You done in there yet?"
"Just about." Kyle began to rinse off all the gel, feeling a lot more awake than he was before.
"Cool. I'll step out so you can get dried. There's some shorts and a top on the bed for you."
"You're picking out my clothes for me too?" He laughed.
"Just keeping you moving," Patricia called from outside the bathroom.
Kyle cracked the door open on the shower cubicle, blinking again as the white glass suddenly turned clear, but he could see Patricia wasn't in the room anymore, so he grabbed a towel and dried off.
Wrapping it around his waist he stepped into the bedroom, spotting a baggy pair of dark blue shorts and a dark green sleeveless t-shirt on the bed. He got dressed quickly and walked around the suite, looking for Patricia.
He found her sitting on the balcony, a low table in front of her with half a dozen different plates of food on it.
"The chef wasn't sure what you'd like for lunch, so he made you up a few platters with different stuff," She explained.
Kyle sat down and looked at the dishes. "Wow."
Patricia smiled. "Yeah, Chef's fantastic."
Kyle could see four or five different types of fish, lobster and prawns. There was chicken, steak, a pate of some sort on crumbly biscuits, different breads, vegetables and fruit, as well as several sauces, dips and garnishes.
"There's enough here for ten people," Kyle noted, grabbing a prawn. "Oh my god, that's delicious."
"I'm allergic to prawns or I would try it myself," Patricia replied, putting a piece of seared tuna and some salad on a plate. She drizzled a dressing over it, then leaned back with a fork to eat.
Kyle knew it was uncultured, poor etiquette and not a particularly good display of manners, but he simply pulled his chair closer to the table and got stuck in with his fork.
After a few minutes picking at different dishes Patricia reminded him not to overdo it as he was getting fitted for a suit and meeting with the trainer, so Kyle made a sad face and put his fork down. Any punchlines he could have made were stopped by the arrival of Margaret, a heavy older woman with a stern expression.
"You would be Kyle," She said, looking him up and down like a piece of meat that had gone mouldy. "Hmmm."
"You must be Margaret," He guessed.
"Who else would I be?" She asked, looking at him as if he was dumb. "Stand up."
Kyle looked at Patricia who had a slightly amused look on her face, obviously having dealt with Margaret before. He stood and moved away from the chair.
"Arms up. Feet apart." Kyle did as she ordered.
"Hmmm. You need to get him in shape, Patricia," Margaret stated, scowling.
"We're seeing Julian right after you."
"Can't happen soon enough," She muttered. Margaret produced a measuring tape from her pocket and began to poke and prod at Kyle, occasionally taking measurements and sighing in exasperation when he didn't lift his arms or turn around quick enough.
"Make sure Julian recommends injections, Patricia."
"Injections?" Kyle asked. "What do I need injections for?"
Margaret looked him straight in the eye. "Because you're in a pitiful condition and my work will be impossible unless every possible step is taken. Just do as you're told."
"Excuse me!" Kyle blurted. "I don't like your tone, Margaret."
"I imagine there's lots of things in life you don't like," The old woman replied. "Now, can you stop talking so I can get finished up and do my job?"
"Jesus fucking Christ," Kyle muttererd.
"Margaret," Patricia said, standing at her shoulder now. "I think you're done. Kyle has another appointment now."
"Two more measurements," She replied, ignoring Patricia's words. "I'll tell you when I'm done."
At that she dropped to her knees and Kyle felt a hand at his groin, probing and searching for his genitals. He stepped back quickly.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Margaret looked up at him. "Have you never been fitted for trousers before, young man? I need to know what side you dress to and how much room I need to allow. Now stand still."
Kyle looked at Patricia who was trying not to laugh. "This isn't funny," He muttered as he stood there, trying not to think about the annoying woman cupping his balls.
"Hmmm. You dress to the right then?"
"Yeah," Kyle grunted.
"You should have just said so," Margaret replied, sighing as she measured his inside leg.
"You didn't give me the chance."
"Whatever," Margaret said, getting to her feet. "I'm done. I'll be back tomorrow for a fitting. I'll need forty minutes."
"I'll let you know," Patricia replied. "Margaret, can you go and select an outfit for Kyle to wear when he meets his sisters please."
The old woman sniffed, then cast her eyes up and down Kyle again. "Very well."
As soon as she left Kyle lit a cigarette. "I see why her reputation proceeds her."
Patricia chuckled. "Wait until you see the suit she'll put together for you though."
Kyle put on the mock sad face. "Still, I feel violated."
"You'll get over it," Patricia said. "Come on. We need to go see Julian now."
Julian turned out to be much nicer than Margaret. Inanely cheerful and almost overdosing on enthusiasm, he bounced around full of energy and Kyle found it uplifting talking with him. He'd been working on the Island for three years now, having had a chunk shot out his buttock during military service in Afghanistan. While the Army had patched him up, he was left with a decidedly odd-looking ass, so when he was raising money for surgery to fix it, he came to the attention of Danny Tripps.
"Mister Tripps paid for the surgery, then my qualifications as a trainer, and then he hired me to work here with the staff. I've been here for nearly three years now. Man, it's an awesome place to be."
"It seems it," Kyle had agreed.
After Julian had a look at him, he had pulled out a rapid tone-up plan that would require Kyle to have three workouts per day, a special diet and he finally found out about the injections.
The first was a booster to his metabolism, enabling a rapid burn-off of his body fat. The second was a little more unusual. One of the pharmaceutical research companies owned by Danny Tripps had come up with a muscle-repair serum that enabled torn or injured muscles to repair themselves at a rapidly accelerated rate. It was designed with injured troops in mind, allowing those with minor injuries to return to the front line much quicker, and those with major injuries to repair and heal faster too. Part of it's design also assisted the extraction of protein from his diet, which helped to build more muscle. It was classified and not publicly available, being restricted to the military for the time being, but it had also been tested with a number of body builders and the results were phenomenal. Kyle was concerned that it was some form of anabilic steroid but he was assured by Julian that it was 'all cool'.
Then they were off to meet the Islands resident physician, Doctor Kerr. The doctor was in her late thirties, with short and tidy red hair, but her cheeks were flushed, as if she was having trouble with the heat.
While she gave Kyle a physical examination, he asked her about the injections that Julian had recommended. To his surprise she seemed perfectly fine with it, as long as he agreed that they lasted no more than two weeks. She also informed him that he needed a Tetanis booster, and he should probably have a contraceptive injection.
"A what?" Kyle asked.
"It's a hormonal contraceptive injection for men," She had shrugged. "Short term, only lasts for a month or so and then things are back to normal a few weeks later, but it stops the production of sperm. Given the injections you're already getting, the enhanced endorphins from the exercise and a sudden boost in confidence that you're likely to receive, it's almost certain that your libido will sky-rocket."
"My libido?" Kyle asked. "Right now it's at absolute zero."
"Oh well. That'll change."
"You seem really sure of that, Doc," Kyle pointed out.
"Kyle, I'm very good at my job. Everyone here on the Island is," She explained. "I'm recommending you have this injection, because it's the smart thing to do, and it certainly won't do any harm. Now, are you planning on having any babies in the next eight weeks?"
"What? No."
"Then what's the big deal. Take the injection." She shrugged and disappeared into a side room.
"Fucking hell," Kyle muttered, realising that no matter what had happened in the last thirtysix hours, things just kept getting crazier. "Patricia!" He shouted.
The door opened. "Yeah?"
"The Doc's saying I should have a contraceptive injection."
"Go for it," Patricia said, shrugging as if it was a no-brainer. "What's the problem?"
"I'm...."
"Kyle, women have been taking the pill for years. Now they get injections, or these new implant things too. If you ask me, it's about time men took their turn." At that she grinned and closed the door.
Doctor Kerr re-appeared, a small tray with four needles on it. "Yes or no, Kyle?"
He closed his eyes, sighed and reminded himself it was only temporary. "Okay."
"Drop your shorts and turn around," The doctor told him, taking a seat on a chair beside him.
With a slight flush, Kyle did as requested and felt her rubbing at his buttock with an antiseptic wipe.
"You should feel a small prick," Doctor Kerr warned him. "Probably not something a lot of guys want to hear when it comes to something going in their ass, is it?"
Kyle chuckled, then flinched as she chose that moment to stick the needle in him. "Sneaky, doc."
"Only for the first one.".
Kyle felt the process repeated on his other buttock a moment later, although this time he felt heat in the muscle as the fluid entered his system.
"Right, turn around."
"With my shorts still down?" He confirmed, feeling a little uncomfortable at having his genitals right in her face.
"Yep."
Kyle took a breath and turned around, carefully examining the wall on the other side of the room in detail. He felt her pinch the skin a couple of inches below his belly button.
"Try and stay still, Kyle," she said as she slid the needle in.
Kyle frowned, really feeling that one. It seemed like it was in for ages and felt really uncomfortable. As soon as it was withdrawn he tensed his stomach muscles up, tilting his pelvis to try and relieve the discomfort. As he looked down he saw Doctor Kerr chuckle.
"Trying to make the little man dance?" She asked, teasing him.
"I swear, you're the strangest doctor I've ever met," Kyle replied, trying to make a joke, despite the discomfort and the awkwardness.
"I have my moments," She replied, lifting the last needle from the tray. "You know where this one goes, right?"
"No idea," Kyle shrugged, then realised what it must be. "Oh, Jesus."
"Just relax. Would you prefer to lie down?"
Kyle just wanted it over and done with. "No, as long as I don't have to look."
"There's an eyechart on the wall behind me for that very purpose."
Kyle looked at it, concentrating on reading the letters to himself. He tensed as the Doctor touched his penis, gripping it between finger and thumb and he felt her pull it upwards.
"Try to push your testicles towards me, Kyle," The Doctor said, sounding all business.
He tilted his hips again, feeling utterly exposed, but reminding himself it must be nothing in comparison to getting a smear or giving birth. "Man up, Kyle," he muttered, then it was all he could do not to move at all as he felt the needle slide in just below the base of his penis.
It tingled like crazy when the injection went in, like being tickled on the inside of your balls by feathers and he tried hard not to squirm. It was like instant relief when the needle came out and he could move around, and without conscious thought he turned and scratched furiously at his genitals, trying to relieve the tingle.
"I swear, every guy does that the instant the injections done," The doctor said, sounding like she was about to burst out laughing. "Now, you'll want to masturbate a couple of times in the next twelve hours to empty the good sperm out your testicles and then that'll be you sorted."
"Thanks, I think."
"No problem," She shrugged. "You can get dressed now, Kyle."
"Oh, shit. Yeah, of course." He grabbed his shorts and pulled them back up, sorting his top back into place. "Is that us done then, Doctor?"
"Yeah. I'll want to see you again in a couple of days to check how the program is going. If you have any trouble sleeping or are feeling particularly stressed, come and see me anytime. I can give you medication to help, or just a confidential ear if that's all you need."
"Thanks, Doc," Kyle said, shaking her hand.
"How did it go?" Patricia asked as they walked out the clinic.
"Um... interesting injection for the male contraceptive," Kyle replied carefully.
"Where about did it go in?"
"Under my err... penis," Kyle said flatly. "Felt really fucking weird."
"Oh. Ouch." Kyle could see the sympathy on her face.
"Oh, and apparently I've to masturbate a couple of times in the next twelve hours to get rid of my good sperm." Kyle shook his head at the insanity of the personal information he was telling Patricia, a relative stranger.
Patricia chuckled. "On doctors orders too? They should give you a note for that."
Kyle laughed. "Or at least a special lubricant or something."
"You can always go back and ask for one," She suggested.
"And risk getting another needle stuck in me? No, I'll pass on that one, thanks."
It only took a few minutes to walk from the clinic to the salon, so Kyle had a cigarette while they followed the path. It was the first time he'd been to the east side of the Island and he loved the flowers and bushes between the palm trees, the mixture of fragrances and fresh air being so much better than the city he was used to.
As they walked Patricia pointed out various paths leading to the helipad, the recording studios, guest and staff accommodation and the main security office. The time passed quickly and all too soon they were entering the salon.
There were three stylists who worked in bright open space. The Senior Stylist was a short japanese man with a bright purple mohawk. Both his arms were covered in tattoos, and Patricia introduced him as Shiro. Working with him was Betty, a short petite blonde who seemed to have trouble meeting his gaze and Alex, a tall bald man with a razor-thin goatee.
The three of them set to work, with Shiro taking position behind Kyle in the chair, doling out orders and cutting his hair with rapid movements. Kyle thought it was like watching the team dealing with a trauma on ER. Shiro kept asking for things Kyle had never heard of and everyone moved very quickly.
While the team got on with his hair, Patricia moved into view.
"Want me to run through the schedule for the rest of the day, Kyle?""Sure."
"Well, after this we go back to the suite. You get changed and we go to the dock to meet Katie and Kara."
Kyle swallowed nervously, feeling the nerves rise again in his stomach suddenly.
Patricia leaned forward and looked him in the eye. "It'll be fine. Now, immediately after they get off the boat, the three of you are meeting with Mister Crowler to have the will read to you. That's probably going to take a while by the time he runs through it all with you."
"Okay. Not looking forward to that, but okay."
"After that it's dinner, a few drinks, time for you guys to chat and get to know each other. I'll be around too if you have any questions, or if you just need to talk."
"Thanks," Kyle replied. He would have nodded, but Shiro was doing something around his ear with a very sharp pair of scissors. "That's it for the night?"
"Yeah, but you should remember you have an early start tomorrow with Julian." Patricia grinned at him as his face fell. "Six o'clock sharp."
"Oh, balls." Kyle rolled his eyes. "Well, I'll give it a go, see how I get on, but if that guys a sadist then I'm out of there."
"Don't worry, Julian's cool." Patricia flipped open her phone, tapping away at it to get whatever information she was after. "Let's see. After that you've got breakfast with your sisters, then a business briefing for two hours, then a meeting with a Security Consultant."
"Ah, crazy Mister Connor?" Shiro said suddenly, breaking into a broad grin.
"Yeah," Patricia nodded, then looked back at Kyle. "Connor Grant is a Close Protection specialist, runs his own bodyguard team and he's a guest on the island just now while he recovers from injuries."
"What kind of injuries?"
"Gunshot wound to the right leg. Did you hear about Sir Richard Branson's Island? Had a big fire on it a while back?"
Kyle frowned, remembering seeing headlines about it on the net. "Something about Kate Winslet rescuing his mom?"
"That's it," Patricia nodded. "Well, Connor is a friend of Kate's. He's done some work for her in the past and is tight with her family, so he was out there on vacation with them, as guests of Richard Branson."
"And there was a fire?"
"There was an attempted kidnapping."
"Holy shit," Kyle muttered. "So the fire was just a story then?"
Patricia rolled her eyes. "Stop jumping ahead of the story, Kyle. This team of criminals got on the island in the middle of the night, set off some alarms, and Richard Branson escaped on this mini-scuba submarine thing he's got."
"That's good."
"Well, not really," Patricia frowned. "He left everyone else to the criminals, including his mother, Kate Winslet and her kids and twenty three other people. Including Connor Grant."
"So he took them out?"
She nodded. "Not without cost though. He had to set fire to the main building as a diversion, and when he was taking the kidnappers out, he got badly beaten and took a bullet to the leg in the process, but he did it."
"Wow. Sounds like Rambo or something."
"I know. So Branson comes back at lunchtime the next day from where he's been hiding in a cave, and by that time there's Police and extra Security all over the place. His media people have already put the story out about a lightning strike causing a fire, and this whole thing about Kate Winslet rescuing Bransons mother."
"So why is Connor Grant here instead of on Bransons Island recovering?" Kyle asked. "Did they fall out?"
"Yeah. Branson made this big song and dance in front of all his staff about how Connor was a hero and he would be getting all his medical bills picked up, as well as a large bonus for protecting his family. Connor called him a cowardly bitch in front of everyone and told him he'd rather shove wasps up his own ass than accept a penny from a piece of shit like him."
"He really said that?"
"Yeah. That's from three different people who were there," Patricia said firmly. "Of course, as soon as Mister Tripps heard about it, he had Connor whipped off to the best medical staff, then brought him here to recover. Mister Tripps even flew in Connors mother and nephew for a couple of weeks too."
"Can I ask," Kyle said, hesitating for a minute. "Surely Richard Branson escaping was a good thing, right? I mean, if he wasn't there, then the kidnappers wouldn't have their target. Isn't that what he was supposed to do?"
"That wasn't the problem," Patricia grinned. "When the alarms tripped, Branson ran so fast for the sub that he took the keys for the safe room with him, and knocked his own mother off the pier and into the water in his haste to escape."
"Man, that's low," Kyle muttered. "He knew he did it?"
"Oh, yes."
"Wow. No wonder Connor was pissed. I bet Branson's mother was too."
"I believe she actually hit him with her handbag," Patricia chuckled.
"That's awesome," Kyle said, smiling. "Hey, Shiro. How come you called him crazy Mister Connor?"
"Mister Connor is a bit...." The hairdresser began, but Patricia cut him off.
"When he's working, the guy's a legend. Seriously, he's that good."
"But?"
"But when he's off duty.... think Hank Moody in Californication," Patricia explained. "Drinking, womanising, getting into trouble. Eliza Dushku described him as having the morals of a horny dog."
Kyle started laughing. "Sounds like they've got history."
"Yeah, I've heard stories, but nothing concrete."
"He sounds like quite a guy."
"Kyle, if you start to act like him, I'm quitting," Patricia told him, a smile on her face. "However, as I said, when he's working he's first class. So tomorrow he's going to help you guys pick out your personal security team leaders."
"Oh. Cool."
"Maybe. Just don't take him in the bar, okay?"
"I won't," Kyle agreed.
"So after that there's another workout, lunch and a full afternoon of business briefings. Then your third workout of the day, dinner and bed."
"Oh, Master Kyle," Shiro grinned. "Your legs are gonna be wobbly like jelly."
"But my hair will look good, right?" Kyle smiled.
"Not good. Awesome."
"Awesome works for me."
It took another ten minutes before he left the salon, and Kyle had to admit, his hair looked awesome. They'd left the stubble on his face but trimmed it to a uniform length, and while he thought it sounded a bit George Michael, it didn't look it.
Patricia hustled him up to his suite and bluntly ordered him to get dressed. Margaret had laid out a pair of heavily faded black jeans by Armani with a belt already laced through them, a pair of black leather boots and a loose black shirt with a sheet of paper in the pocket. "Roll the sleeves, don't fold them. Leave the top three buttons undone," He read. A pair of sunglasses lay to the side of them on the bed.
He got changed as fast as he could and met Patricia back on the balcony.
"Have I got time for a smoke?" He asked, his stomach rolling like a rowing boat in a hurricane with nerves.
She frowned and checked her watch. "Have one as we walk down. You'll smell like smoke though."
"It's either that or I need half a bottle of tequila and a sedative to calm my nerves." Kyle muttered.
The closer they got to the pier the more nervous Kyle got. It didn't matter that he'd met both Katie and Kara before. If anything, that made it worse. He didn't know if Kara would recognise him at all, or if she did, would she have him chalked up as one of a thousand perverted losers who'd paid to see her naked. Worse, he might be remembered as that creep who jizzed in his pants.
As for Katie, Kyle knew that she'd remember him. That night they'd spent together was burned in his memory, and he knew how she felt about it at the time too. They'd made love in the dark, then again when they woke in the morning, not a word exchanged. They'd showered together, then lay holding each other until they couldn't avoid getting up. Even then, he'd accompanied her all the way to the airport, shared a really tender goodbye kiss with her, and then kicked himself for months that he hadn't got her contact details, or just up and moved to New York to find her.
What would her reaction be now? He was sure she'd recognise him in the photo that Mister Crowler would show her, and he only hoped that his message had got through to her. To both of them, if Kara remembered him at all.
"Kyle," Patricia said, stopping just before they got to the beach. He stopped walking and she steered him to one side of the path. "Take a deep breath, relax. Both of them are probably going to be as terrified as you are, so now would be a good time to step up, be confident and show them around. Show them that you're a nice guy."
Kyle looked around and admitted his worst fears, knowing Patricia already knew the worst of it. "What if they're disgusted with me, Patricia? What if they think I'm some sleazy scumbag pervert weirdo?"
"The only thing you can do right now is show them who you are, Kyle. That's all that's expected of you, and once you get the chance to chat with each of them alone, I bet you'll find that they're as scared as you are. Plus, you had to come to this place on your own. At least they're doing it together, with Mister Crowler accompanying them and their own assistants too."
Kyle rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "Fuck my life."
"You'll be fine," Patricia said firmly. "Come on. We need to get out on the pier. I can see the boat coming in."
"It's here already?" Kyle blurted. "Fuck."
They hustled down to the beach to meet Edwin and the three of them walked towards the end of the pier. Kyle could see the Betsy coasting towards them, slowing as it approached the end of the wooden walkway.
His palms were sweating and he could feel his heart beating fast in his chest as the boat got within a few feet of the pier and one of Captain Wales' crew hopped up and tied the boat to one of the posts.
"Fuck fuck fuck," Kyle whispered, knowing the moment was fast approaching.
"Hey," Patricia whispered. "Take a breath and stop looking so grim. Just relax."
Kyle took a deep breath and tried to get a grip, but he saw his hands were shaking. "Fuckety fuck fuck."
Patricia moved a little closer until she was standing directly beside him. As Kyle watched the crew setup the gangplank between the boat and the pier, she whispered, "Maybe I should just push you in the water. What do you think?"
Kyle looked at her and saw the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth and despite his nerves, he smiled.
"That's a little better. Now you don't look like you've just discovered you're in bed with an angry Lorena Bobbitt."
"The penis chopper woman?" He muttered, shaking his head.
"That's her," Patricia nodded. "Striking fear into mens pants the world over. At least you know she's not your sister."
"That's not even funny," Kyle whispered, knowing that he couldn't help but chuckle. As Captain Wales stepped out the cabin onto the rear deck, Kyle realised that Patricia's jokes had settled his nerves a bit and he made a mental note to thank her later.
It was too late to think about anything else as a woman appeared on the rear deck and shook hands with the Captain. Kyle recognised the long, dark curly hair, the taught physique that couldn't be hidden by the calf-length olive shorts or the loose white blouse.
As she turned to walk up the gangplank to the pier, Kyle knew she was looking at him, knew that on the other side of the huge sunglasses that completely covered her eyes that those eyes were looking at him.
He swallowed and took a step forward to take her hand as she stepped clear of the gangplank.
"Hi," He managed to croak, his mouth dryer than a drought in death valley.
"You must be Kyle," Kara said, shaking his hand.
He recognised her voice immediately, that slight huskiness bringing back memories of her talking to him in the strip club.
"Pleased to finally meet you," He mumbled. Then remembering Patricia's earlier advice to just be himself, he added, "Sorry. I'm really nervous."
"Oh, you're not the only one," She smiled, and Kyle felt himself relax a little.
"That's good to know." Kyle turned a little and gestured towards Edwin. "This is Edwin, the Island Manager."
Kara moved clear of the gangplank to shake hands with Edwin and Kyle felt his stomach tighten again suddenly.
Katie.
She was standing at the boat end of the gangplank looking directly at him, searching with her eyes, seeking assurance it was really him, he knew. He did the same, an unconscious gesture, his eyes taking in her dark hair framing her face, her figure that closely resemlbed her sister but seemed somehow more voluptous, more natural. Kyle watched as she gently bit her lip, then stepped forward.
"You must be..." Kyle began.
"Call me Katie," She said, cutting him off with a friendly smile. She reached the gangplank and as he offered a handshake, she bypassed it and he felt her body close with his.
Kyle was startled and froze, not sure exactly what to do. Katie gave him a kiss on the cheek and he felt her squeeze him, so somewhat awkwardly he gave her a quick hug.
"Sorry to startle you," She said stepping back. "I just thought if I'm meeting my brother for the first time, I should give him a hug." She made definite eye contact with him for those two important words, letting him know she'd got his message from the lawyer, and it had been understood.
Kyle let out a breath and nodded. "Nice to finally meet you," He said, stepping back. He knew as soon as he did it that it was a bad move. He felt the tip of his toe brush the edge of the wooden walkway, and as his arms flailed to reach the nearby wooden post he knew he'd failed on an epic level.
Kyle fell into the water.
"I still can't believe I just did that," Kyle said as he showered the salt water off his body in his en-suite. "What a fucking moron."
He heard Patricia chuckle from her seat on the edge of the bath. "Hey, it could have been worse."
"How?"
There was a pause. "Good point."
"Cheers," He grunted.
"Oh, I know," She said quickly. "You could have dragged Katie in with you. Or you could have fainted and broke your nose. Those would have been worse."
Kyle paused. "Yeah, okay. I'll give you them. Either of them would have been worse."
"Plus, it's kinda like making a dramatic entrance. The proverbial big splash." He heard her chuckle again.
"How long you been saving that one up?"
"Since before Captain Wales pulled you back onto the pier."
Kyle finished rinsing the gel off him and turned the shower off. "I'm done."
"Alright. I'm gonna go grab you some clothes."
Kyle heard her move out the bathroom and opened the door, still surprised at how the white glass turned clear as he opened the door. He grabbed a towel, dried himself off and then wrapped it around his waist and walked through to the bedroom.
Patricia had thrown a pair of faded blue jeans on the bed and a pair of Converse All-Stars with a pair of socks sticking out the top.
Kyle grabbed the denims and turned his back to the dressing room. He got his left leg into them when the towel fell off and as he hurried to put the right leg in and pull them up, Patricia appeared from the doorway.
Kyle knew she'd just seen his ass as he hopped upright, yanking the jeans up to cover himself. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing her amused expression.
"Sorry."
"Don't worry about it," She smirked, and turned back into the dressing room. "You need to get some sun on that."
Kyle chuckled. "You talking about my ass?"
"Yeah," She called back. "Don't tell the boss though. I dont' want to get fired for harassment."
"I think that only happens if I talk about your ass, doesn't it?"
"Don't know what to tell you, Kyle," Patricia called back. "I guess we're a long way from sexual equality in the workplace. Someone should look into that."
Kyle smiled as he sat on the bed to pull on his socks and sneakers. He'd been really enjoying the conversations recently with Patricia. He didn't know if it was just him, or if they had a bit of a flirty thing going on. Maybe it was her frank honesty, but Kyle felt drawn to her, as if she was a friend he'd known for a long time.
With a frown he realised she was the only thing he had on the Island that was even close to a friend. He didn't know what Katie was and he was all too aware that he'd felt like a lovestruck teenager when he saw her on the boat. As for Kara, he had no idea if she'd recognised him or not. Whatever the case he knew he'd need to tell her.
His good mood now gone, he fastened on his sneakers and stood up. "Patricia. Have you got a top for me?"
"I can't decide," She called. "Come in and help me choose."
Kyle sighed and walked into the dressing room, seeing her flicking through the racks of tops and shirts that hung neatly on two rails. She turned and looked him up and down, then pulled at a lemon coloured polo shirt.
"No," Kyle said, immediately shaking his head.
"The only thing I've got that goes with those jeans is this mental bermuda shirt," She said, frowning. "I'm quite surprised that Margaret put it on the list."
"She didn't. I kinda bought it on impulse."
Patricia chuckled. "Well you're gonna have to take the jeans off and change them, Kyle."
"Just give me something black. It'll be fine."
"Hey, you're not the one who's going to have to put up with an apoplectic Margaret," Patricia muttered as she pulled out a dark pair of loose linen trousers and a black v-necked top. "Come on, Kyle. Get your jeans off so we can get out of here. Everyone's waiting for us."
"Right here?"
"I'm not gonna look, so stop being a baby," Patricia replied.
Kyle stared at her for a second but she was busy browsing through the tops again. He shrugged and bent down to unlace the sneakers, then stepped forward to grab the linen trousers.
Patricia held them out to the side, and as he took them he saw her eyes flicker down to the side, as if trying to catch a glimpse.
He frowned as he replayed it in his head, wondering if it had just been an involuntary movement, a sensing motion kind of thing, or if she'd deliberately tried to sneak a glance at his cock.
"For fucks sake, Kyle. Just get changed," He told himself.
With his eyes fixed on her, he pulled the denims off and slipped the linen trousers on. It felt a little odd to see her standing there, only a few feet away while he had his junk out.
"Maybe I'm just imagining it."
"Got the pants on yet?"
"Yeah," Kyle replied, lacing up his Cons again. Patricia turned and brought him the v-neck top and he slipped it on and shrugged it into place.
"You'll do," She told him. "Let's go."
"Where are we meeting?"
"Downstairs in one of the business suites."
"Wait, I need to dry my hair," Kyle said quickly.
"Leave it," Patricia replied quickly. "They'll think you've been rushing and haven't waited to dry it."
"That's kinda true."
"Except for the wardrobe uncertainty," Patricia agreed. "You'll want to gloss right over that part."
Kyle followed her downstairs and around the side of the pool, turning left to head into one of the business suites where he could see Mister Crowler sitting behind a desk. On the other side of it sat three large leather chesterfield armchairs, Katie in the one on the left, Kara on the right.
He took a deep breath, feeling the tension of what was to come. He knew inside that room he would find out what his future would be like, what his responsibilities were and what Danny Tripps, the man who had gave him up for adoption would have to say to him and his sisters.
"Good luck, Kyle," Patricia said quietly. "I'll see you when you get out."
He entered the room and closed the door.
"It's a lot to take in," Patricia said gently.
Kyle was sat on his balcony, chain-smoking and watching a spectacular sunset that he just couldn't appreciate. The afternoon had been too draining. The meeting had lasted nearly three hours. Mister Crowler had read them Danny Tripps' last will and testament, a lengthy document that had taken up forty one pages in total and then he'd gone through each item on each page, answering questions from the three stunned siblings.
"Do you want to read it?" Kyle asked, nodding towards his copy of the will in its binder on the table.
She shook her head. "I helped write it. I can tell you it's had one hundred and fourteen revisions that I know about."
"Fuck me," Kyle muttered. He knew about document control and records management from his work, but a document with a hundred and fourteen revisions belonged in Government.
"It's a lot of information."
"It's a lot of fucking money," Kyle blurted. He lit another cigarette.
"What is it that's bothering you about it, Kyle?" Patricia asked after a moment. "Most people would be delighted that they're suddenly rich."
"It's not the money," Kyle said immediately. "It's the weight of responsibility. And he just fucking dumped it on us, having never said a word to any of us in twenty three years. He's got no clue if we're up to the job and he's made us responsible for the livelihood of thousands, tens of thousands of people all over the world."
"He wouldn't have done it if he wasn't sure, Kyle."
"How could he be sure though? He's got no way of knowing, no knowledge of us beyond what he's read about us in reports from other people. He doesn't know us."
Kyle looked at the blue binder on the table, seeing the big letter T embossed on the front. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to throw it over the pool and into the sea, then pretend it was all some horrible mistake.
"So now me and Katie and Kara have been landed with this massive burden of responsibility that we can't walk away from, and our lives are no longer our own," He continued. "I mean, think about it. I'd have been lost without you here, and I can't imagine what it'll be like in a few weeks or months time without your help either. I can see clearly why I'll need security around me, why I'll need people to cook and clean for me, and I get all that. I understand it. But my life's not my own anymore either. I can't date who I want, I can't finish work and then decide to just go to the cinema with my friends. Or go get hammered and phone in sick. I can't go home and close my door or drop in on my mom and dad for a chat. My time's no longer going to be my own."
He slumped down in the wooden chair and put his feet up on the table.
"It's like prison for the uber-rich. You can have anything you want except free will, and there's no escape. That's what's bothering me about it," He concluded.
"Just give it a bit of time, okay," Patricia said gently. "Give your head a bit of time to wrap itself around the enormity of everything that's happened. It's not as bad as it seems, believe me."
Kyle shrugged. "We'll see."
"Am I interrupting?"
Kyle turned in his seat, recognising the voice. "Hi, Katie."
"Hi Katie, I'm Patricia." Patricia moved forward and shook hands with Kyle's sister. "I'm Kyle's assistant."
"Like Heidi is for me?" She asked, smiling.
"Yes, exactly like that," Patricia said, giving her a warm smile. "Or like Garius is for Kara."
"Garius? He's.... Um...." Katie's voice trailed off.
Kyle remembered the strange looking black man he'd seen walking down the pier behind Kara. There was something about him that reminded him of Mister Potato Head in spandex. Kyle remembered a few of Ed's favourite put downs, and the one about Forest Whitaker and Ugly Betty having a lovechild who didn't so much fall out the ugly tree as smash it to bits on the way down seemed particularly apt.
"He's a really nice guy and smart too," Patricia said quietly. "Thinks all men are secretly in love with him though, which I'm pretty sure qualifies him as delusional. I love him to bits."
"He seems nice," Katie agreed. "Kyle, you got a minute?"
"Sure." Kyle took a deep breath and got up.
"I've got a couple of things to do," Patricia said, moving towards the stairs. "I'll see you in ten, Kyle."
"Okay."
Kyle turned to Katie and beckoned her inside and they sat down on the leather sofas in front of the TV.
"Harrison Ford made this table," Kyle said, feeling nervous and immediately cursing himself for blurting out the first thing that popped into his head.
Katie rolled her eyes. "That's... interesting."
For some reason it made Kyle chuckle. "Okay, fair enough. So how you doing?"
"Shocked. Scared. Confused. Exhausted. I haven't slept since I found out." Katie looked at him closely and lowered her voice. "I couldn't believe it when I saw your photo."
"I nearly passed out," Kyle admitted. "I must have gone white as a sheet."
"Me too." She frowned. "So what are we gonna do about this, Kyle?"
"Well, it's probably not the best idea to pick up where we left off, is it?"
"That would be no," Katie replied flatly. "So we keep quiet, right?"
He nodded. "I think that's the way to go. The problem is Ed and Casey know."
"Oh, fuck," Katie blurted. "And my friends too."
"Yep."
Katie ran her hands through her hair then rubbed her face. Her eyes met Kyle's. "Are you still close with them?"
"They're my best friends, both of them. What about yours?"
"Still close with Margarita, not so much with Shawna or Rosie," She replied.
"Listen, I realised this problem yesterday, so I've had a bit of time to think about it and try and figure my way through it," Kyle began slowly. "Last night I was freaking out, and Mister Crowler told me I should trust in Patricia, so I..."
"You told her." Katie's expression hardened instantly, and for the first time, Kyle saw her angry.
"We need help with this," He told her bluntly. "There's ways we can make sure it's in everyones best interests to conveniently forget."
Katie's mouth fell open and Kyle quickly clarified.
"I'm not talking anything dark or dodgy. I mean positive things. Like annual vacations, a career, or college scholarships for kids, medical stuff. Helping people have a good life. Not threatening them or blackmailing them, or anything like that."
Katie took a moment to think about what he was saying, then gradually settled. "I was worried there."
"Yeah, I was the same. Anyway, Patricia's getting each of our friends investigated. It's all being done discretely and she's confident we can sort it out." Kyle sighed. "As if everything else wasn't bad enough."
"I'll need to have a chat with her," Katie said a moment later. "Rosie's got a kid now and he's got some kind of health problem. I don't know what, but she's in and out the hospital all the time."
Kyle thought for a second. "You should call her and tell her we'll cover every medical expense she's got, get her the best physicians, expense money for trips to the hospital and shit like that. All she hs to do is keep her mouth shut."
"Hi, Rosie. It's Katie," Katie said, looking at Kyle as if he was stupid as she made her mock phone call. "Yeah, I know we haven't spoken in over a year, but I'm just gonna promise to cover all your costs and I can't tell you how, or even verify that I have any money. Yeah, that's right. I fucked my brother on Spring Break, but don't tell anyone, okay?" She paused and shook her head. "Yeah, I can see that going down well, Kyle."
Kyle sat there, lost for words.
"Sorry," Katie muttered a moment later. "I'm pretty... stressed, you know?"
He nodded immediately. "I know."
"And it had to be you, of all people."
Kyle smiled, despite the situation. "I know that feeling. Probably the closest, most intimate experience of my life and now...."
"Fucking ruined," Katie concluded. "I thought about you a lot, you know."
"Me too," He admitted, surprising himself with his honesty. "I kicked myself for months for not getting your number or address."
"So did I," Katie replied. "All things considered, it's just as well really."
"You think we'd have hit it off?" Kyle asked.
Katie's eyes met his. "I used to daydream I'd bump into you in New York."
"I used to daydream about looking for you. In a city of eight million people though?" Then he chuckled. "Do you have any idea how many photographers are listed for New York?"
"Yeah, there's a few of us kicking around," She replied, then frowned. "Kara doesn't know."
"Nope. Listen, about Kara..." Kyle began, frowning.
Katie's eyebrow shot up. "She was the stripper that you thought was me?"
Kyle nodded slowly.
"I wondered about that when we were on the plane," Katie explained. "Man, when he showed you those photographs...."
"Yeah. Look, did Kara give any indication she recognised me?"
Katie shook her head. "She plays things close to her chest, Kyle. She's quiet, withdrawn."
"I have to talk to her about it."
Katie thought about it for a second. "You going to tell her about us?"
"I don't know," He admiited. "I wanted to talk to you first."
"Let me think about it for a bit."
"Of course." He nodded. "So how insane is all this?"
"It's bizarre," Katie replied. "I keep feeling like someone's gonna jump out and shout Candid Camera or something."
"I have these surreal moments where it's like watching a movie. Weird shit happening to other people."
"Yeah, I understand that. How's the Island?"
"Oh, it's gorgeous. Stunning. And it's got everything."
"Has it got a trampoline?" Katie grinned.
"Probably. It's got its own hair salon."
"Yeah, Heidi tells me I'm down there tomorrow at some point," Katie smiled. "Did they do your hair?"
"Yeah, about twenty minutes before I fell off the pier," Kyle replied, rolling his eyes.
"Well, I thought you looked hot," Katie said quietly. "Before you got all wet, of course."
"Thanks, and no problem. Glad I could entertain you."
There was a knock at the door and Kyle stood up as Patricia entered.
"Sorry to interrupt. Dinner's going to be served in ten minutes. Thought I'd better let you know."
"Cheers, Patricia," Kyle nodded.
"I better make a move," Katie said, getting up. "Cheers for the chat, Kyle."
"Anytime."
Patricia waited until Katie was inside her own suite before she spoke. "How did it go?"
Kyle shrugged. "Okay, I guess. What's happening with the whole...."
"Discrete investigation?" Patricia asked quietly.
Kyle nodded. "I told Katie you know."
"How did she react?"
"Angry at first, but she's had a lot to deal with. She told me about one of her friends though. She's got a kid that's got health problems. Can we help her with that?"
"I already know about it," Patricia said quietly. "As I said, we move quick and quiet when we need to."
"So what else do you know?"
"Who do you want first?"
"Ed? Casey?" Kyle shrugged. "Whoever."
"Okay, Ed's maxed out on his credit cards, he's on the verge of defaulting on a loan too, and he's got an online gambling problem. Also, some very unhealthy porn habits, but you don't want me to go into that, do you?"
Kyle shook his head. "I know about Ed's taste in porn. He's not exactly quiet about things he finds on the internet. How bad's the debt?"
He felt bad prying into his friends personal business, but Kyle reminded himself the problems it would cause. Besides, he realised, if his buddy needed some financial help then he would be happy to help him out anyway.
"He's in about forty grand," Patricia replied.
Kyle's eyes widened. "Fucking hell. How many cards has he got?"
"I'm not sure," She admitted. "I can find out for you if you really want to know."
Kyle frowned and shook his head. "I don't suppose it matters, really."
"No. Not really."
"And Casey?"
"Casey's squeaky clean. We can't find anything bad on him at all, which is kinda impressive, I guess," Patricia admitted.
"I'm not really surprised. Casey's an honest guy, and he's really conscientious about work and bills and shit like that," Kyle replied. "He'd be a good guy to put on a fast-track promotion ladder."
"That we can do. I guess it depends on what he wants. Do you think he'd keep the secret if you asked him to?"
Kyle thought about it and nodded. "Yeah, I think he'd do that. In fact, I don't think I'd even have to ask him."
"Well, we'll look at that. Now, Katie's friends."
"Okay."
"Margarita is her best friend, financially pretty normal. Bit of debt but working to pay it off. Setbacks for shoes and handbags. Just the usual, really. We haven't found anything in her transcripts from college or school, and her family is clean too. We're still working on her though."
"Maybe Katie can ask her to keep quiet and that'll be that?" Kyle suggested.
"Maybe." Patricia said, not looking convinced. "Moving on, Shawna, who you knew as Shanice. We've got a ton of stuff about her."
"Like what?"
"Affair with a professor at college and knowledge that he was married with kids. A homemade sex tape of her with another girl at a party. History of drugs and wild parties too."
"Wow. I would never have guessed any of that," Kyle admitted. "I thought she was the quiet one of the four of them too."
"Different strokes for different folks, Kyle."
"So is she still doing all that now?"
"No, she's got a job in a law firm and she's doing quite well for herself. She won't want any of this to come out though, and like Casey, we can help her with her career, so we made an approach to her."
Kyle's eyes widened. "You what?"
"We don't know when this is going to break, so we made an approach to her," Patricia repeated. "We asked her to attend a meeting with one of our agents posing as a head-hunter out of LA, looking to recruit the brightest talent going."
"You should have spoken to me first," Kyle said immediately.
"There wasn't time, because we don't know when this is going to break," Patricia said flatly. "Anyway, we made her an offer of a post in LA with guaranteed career progression, a fantastic salary, house, company car, expense account. The job is working for our talent agency in New York, and the offer keeps her there for three years, then she can transfer to Los Angeles if she wants."
Kyle looked at her, feeling nervous and a little pissed that she'd just steamed ahead without consulting him. "And?"
"And she said she'd have to think about it, so we dangled the stick too," Patricia admitted. "We told her we'd managed to secure all copies of the video of her at the party and they would stay hidden. We also told her we could ensure the affair with her professor or her history with drugs wouldn't ever come out. Then we repeated the offer, added a signing bonus to sweeten the pot, and then told her the condition attached to it."
"What was the condition?" Kyle asked, immediately concerned that someone else was now in the know about his history with Katie.
"That she doesn't ever mention her friendship with Katie or anything that may or may not have happened in the past. Basically a gag-agreement," Patricia said simply. "Anyway, she went for the offer and starts work tomorrow in her new job."
Kyle nodded, unhappy that the proverbial stick had been used, but glad to hear there was a positive outcome in there somewhere. "How about Rosie? The girl I knew as Jessica."
"Well, her little boy has cystic fibrosis, so we can get him the best of care and her the best of support."
"How bad is it?"
"The illness? I don't know," She admitted. "I'll get some briefing material put together for you if you want, but to be frank, you don't really need to know. You've got other things to be filling your brain with."
Kyle nodded. "So have we done anything to help her?"
"She's been notified that Katie has come into an inheritance, and wants to help her out, cover all her costs, etc, using a charity foundation that she's going to set up. Apparently the news was very gratefully received and she wept." Patricia shrugged. "Anyway, she's keen to speak with Katie and signed the conditional agreement without complaint. Heidi is going to set up a call with her sometime tomorrow."
"So, we can help out Ed, we've got Shawna and Rosie covered. That just leaves Casey and Margarita as the problems?"
"Pretty much," Patricia nodded.
"That's fast work, Patricia."
She shrugged. "We got information and acted on it before it became a problem."
"True, but it's helping me." While he still felt uncomfortable prying into peoples private lives and bribing people, he did feel a little safer, a little less exposed.
"Anyway, you've got to get changed for dinner," She said.
"Again?"
"You got a problem with looking nice, Kyle?" Patricia chuckled.
"Nope. I think you've got a problem with me wearing the same clothes for more than two hours though."
"If it's any consolation, Margaret picked out these ones. Same jeans you had on at pier, different shirt and shoes though."
"The soaking wet jeans?"
Patricia rolled her eyes as she stood up. "They've been washed, pressed and back in your wardrobe for hours, Kyle."
Kyle shook his head, remembering again how weird it was to have staff who looked after him. "Okay, I'm going to get changed."
"Don't forget to fix your hair."
"Yes, mother," He chuckled.
Dinner wasn't as fantastic as Kyle expected when it came to the food. Due to Julian's interference Kyle had his own menu with his options dramatically reduced. He'd been looking forward to some more of the lobster or those delicious prawns from lunch, but ended up with a grilled tuna steak and poached egg on a bed of quinoa, a substance a lot like couscous, but delicately spiced. It was delicious, but when he saw everyone else tucking into steak, lobster, mussels, spicy noodles, and a dazzling array of vegetables he definitely felt restricted.
Eight of them sat around a table in the dining area next to the bar. Kyle was joined by his sisters, Patricia, Heidi and Garius, and Edwin and Mister Crowler completed the party. What started off as a fairly subdued group quickly opened up as each of them told funny stories about themselves, knowing that Kyle, Kara and Katie didn't really know any of them.
Kyle told them of how he'd been so hungover in a lecture at college once that he'd fallen asleep and when he woke up it took him three hours to discover he had drawings on his face. Katie told them of a photoshoot she'd done where she fainted in front of a client but still got the job, and of how she once did the infamous 'skirt-tucked-into-her-underwear' thing and no-one told her.
Mister Crowler talked for a few mnutes of former clients who wanted to sue the government for situating the movie industry in Hollywood instead of Nebraska, or one who wanted to sue twitter for allowing him to tweet a picture of his own penis while drunk. Another who wanted to sue Blackberry because their phones didn't contain any actual berries.
Patricia, Garius and Heidi told funny stories involving Mister Tripps, crazy meetings with crazy people, and then told of dozens of letters they'd dealt with from people claiming bizarre things, like a proclamation they received that Danny Tripps was the new messiah, along with a completely updated bible about him from an obsessed housewife in Texas. Patricia insisted it was on the Island somewhere.
Edwin contributed a couple of stories too, delivered in a quiet voice, telling of the time Brad Pitt and Angeline Jolie were visiting the Island and she'd got in a fury during an argument and threw a vase at a reinforced window. The vase had bounced off and knocked her out cold, and they'd ended up staying an extra week until the bump on her head disappeared. Another story told of Salma Hayek jogging on the Island and how her breasts were bouncing so much that one of the staff broke his nose by walking right into a tree.
Kara was the only one who didn't contribute anything and on a couple of occasions, Kyle tried to draw her into the conversations but he could see what Katie meant when he said she was withdrawn. After dinner she excused herself for a visit to the bathroom and Kyle took the opportunity to slip outside for a smoke. It was only a couple of minutes later when she reappeared.
"Kara. Have you got a second?"
"Sure."
Kyle stood up and began to walk slowly around the pool and his sister joined him.
"What's up?"
"We haven't really had a chance to talk," He said gently. "How you doing with all this?"
Her eyes narrowed as she looked around at the main house, then back to Kyle. "Haven't decided."
"Yeah, it's a lot to take in."
"No, I haven't decided if I'm going to stay or not."
"Oh." Kyle was about to tell her he was the same, but he paused, realising that he'd already decided. The responsibility of the people relying on him was too great. Despite feeling boxed in and manipulated he knew he would do as he always did. Take his responsibilities seriously and try his best.
He took a deep breath and got back on with the reason he wanted to speak with her. "Kara, you know we've met before, right?"
"I don't think so," She said, shaking her head, her long dark hair bobbing around her face.
"I was on a vacation with my friends a few years ago in Myrtle Beach," He explained softly, letting that hang in the air.
She didn't say anything, but stopped at the railing and looked out over the water.
"I was in with some friends, and I thought you were someone else," He continued, but she raised a hand.
"Kyle, do you have any idea how many people I've danced for over the years? If you're telling me you saw me dance, then that's pretty fucked up, but don't expect me to remember you."
"I just thought I should let you know," He said quietly.
"Maybe you shouldn't have," She said, turning to face him. "Now I know that my newly-discovered brother visits strip clubs like all the other perverts, weirdos and losers I've ever met. Do you think that I'll think better of you because you were honest about it?"
Kara shook her head and looked back out over the water. "Now you're just one of them."
"I wanted to talk to you to see if you remembered me," Kyle said, taken aback. "And I was only there because I promised my friend we'd go in."
She turned her head, catching his eye again. "So it was your first time in a lapdancing bar, was it?"
Kyle frowned, trying to think how to answer the question but she cut him off before he could say anything else.
"I didn't think so. And no, I don't remember you."
"Kara...."
"Was there anything else you wanted to tell me, or can I go back in now?"
Kyle sighed. "Nothing else. Sorry to bother you."
"It's fine," She said, walking off.
Kyle watched her walk around the pool, her movements confident and sure.
"Well, that fucking sucked," He whispered, feeling as if he'd been punched in the stomach.
Kyle was back in his suite half an hour later, having returned to the table for a short time, then excused himself, telling them he had a six o'clock workout to get up for. Patricia had got up to leave with him, but he waved her back into her seat, wanting a little time to himself.
He felt like he'd totally blown things with Kara. Their first conversation was a disaster, and he knew first impressions counted. She'd all but named him a pervert, and her tone left it pretty clear that she thought the customers at the clubs she'd worked were all low-life scumbags.
"Fuck my life," He muttered, not for the firs time in the last twenty four hours.
He turned off the lights in the suite and the balcony and sat in the near darkness, enjoying the solitude. On his third cigarette, he was thinking over the the events of the day when his eyes fell to the shape of the blue binder on the table, barely visible in the dark..
"Private accommodation in Manhattan, LA, Aspen, Hawaii, Toronto, London, Italy and here," He recited aloud from memory. "Computer Manufacturing in the US, Mexico, UK, Germany, India and China. Software Development in the US, Canada, India and the UK. Telephone factories in seven countries across the globe including France, the UK, the US and China. Pharmaceutical Research and Production in the US, Canada, India, China and Holland. Games developers in Scotland and the US. Commercial Properties in New York, Chicago, London, Paris and Berlin."
Kyle paused and rubbed at his temples as he concentrated, seeing a mental picture of the pages of the binder.
"A movie and TV production company with offices in LA, New York and Toronto. A Talent agency with offices in LA, New York and London. A record label in the US and UK, with studios in each country as well as Brazil, Barcelona and Sydney. Magazine publishers with offices in Chicago, New York and LA. Then the oddball stuff. The copper mine in Zambia. The Private Security firm in Zambia and now Afghanistan. The Alternative Energy Research in Scotland. The accountancy firm that specialises in small businesses in Las Vegas."
Kyle paused for a breath. "And last but not least, that fucking strip club in Myrtle Beach."
He stubbed out his cigarette.
"That was pretty impressive, you know," He heard from behind him, recognising Patricia's voice.
Kyle shrugged as he lit another cigarette. "I deal with a lot of information at work, so I'm pretty good at taking stuff in. Plus, we spent hours on this today."
"You missed one," She said gently, taking a seat beside him. To his surprise she leaned over and picked up his cigarettes and lit one for herself, then grinned. "I've had a couple of drinks."
"What did I miss?" Kyle asked, not really caring if she smoked or not. Who was he to say anything, given he was chain-smoking like an addict on death row.
"The Business Consultants you work for?" She said, making it a question.
"Of course. With offices in the US, UK, Canada and Australia," He finished.
"Seriously, that's really impressive, remembering all that."
Kyle exhaled a long, smooth breath. "I spoke to Kara. Told her I was at the club in Myrtle Beach. Now she thinks I'm a low-life pervert and that I shouldn't have brought it up. And she didn't remember me anyway, so it was all for nothing."
"Everything's been a huge shock to her recently, Kyle. To all of you."
"Why don't we have any property for commercial letting in Tokyo?" He asked. "I mean, Tokyo is one of the most expensive places to rent in the world, right?"
Patricia chuckled.
"Plus we have no presence in Japan at all. Tell me again, what did he do to set up this fake persona for Kara?"
"The cover story if anyone looks her up?" Patricia asked.
"Yeah."
"Okay. For four years someone named Kara Kowalski has been writing trashy romance novels and scraping a living from it. The novels are all ghost-written, and the photo on the jacket could be her, deliberately shot to be ambiguous."
"Right. What else?"
"Several blogs that were started for a month or two but fell by the wayside. The usual twitter, facebook, myspace, all that stuff."
Kyle nodded for her to continue as he sat there in the dark.
"Basically, if anyone who went to school with her looks her up, they'll have her down as someone who moved to an undisclosed town in Illinois, took up writing and didn't really socialise much."
"And if they recognsie her as a dancer?"
"Mister Tripps found out she was there a few years ago, and I don't know how he did it, but he bought the club purely so he could make sure any CCTV tapes were in his control. He even paid to have the previous owners house turned over and any tapes or photos that were there were stolen."
"Were there tapes of her?"
"Her and every other dancer who had ever worked there," Patricia said quietly. "We got this from Mister Tripps only a few weeks ago. He had evidence of some of the girls offering extras, snorting lines of coke, doing meth, all sorts of stuff like that. The owner was just as bad, apparently. Nearly half the girls who ever worked there used to do.... favours for him, or he'd fire them. The rest refused but made too much money dancing for him to fire them."
Kyle moved the ashtray onto the table in front of them both. It was a little weird seeing Patricia smoking, but much weirder things had happened in the last thirty six hours.
"The security staff who worked there were checked out too," She added.
"And she left nine months ago, right?" Kyle asked.
"Yeah. Lived off her savings for a bit."
"So what did Tripps do to get all her colleagues to keep quiet?"
"The dancers she worked with who took cash for extras or took drugs were shown tapes of themselves, then offered clean-up programmes and jobs. The previous owner was found by the police with half a kilo of cocaine and is doing a stretch in prison. Five of the security guys who worked there are now working as freelance security contractors in Zambia. One of them is in Afghanistan. The other guy who worked there but didn't want to go abroad got a nice big business grant to start a building business with his brother, and they're about to get a lucrative maintenance contract to keep them going for a few years."
"What about the dancers who weren't into anything dodgy?"
"A few scholarships and expenses packages, helping out with a few medical bills for relatives, a few jobs here and there. One of them demanded a Porsche to keep quiet, so she was shown the stick instead of the carrot."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"You go for the carrot, you get a nice reward for positive behaviour. You go for the stick, you get thumped for negative behaviour. The carrot and the stick."
"I know what the carrot and stick shit means," Kyle muttered, rolling his eyes. "I mean what metaphorical stick was she shown?"
"I believe she was woken up one night surrounded by half a ton of flour in clear bags, in her own bedroom. The bags looked like drugs, you know?"
Kyle nodded for her to continue.
"On her bed were photos of her showing she'd been slipped a roofie, had been taken out her own apartment, photographed at a local landmark, then put back into bed, all without her knowing anything about it. Next to the photos on the bed was a list of every address she'd ever had, the addresses of all her family, her passwords for her email accounts, bank account numbers, a frightening amount of personal information."
"So she was threatened and her family were threatened?" Kyle asked, scowling. "Is this what I'm inheriting?"
Patricia sighed, but pressed on. "When she woke up, a disguised man pointed out to her that this could have been the police raiding her and finding all these drugs. It could have been a rapist or serial killer who slipped her a roofie. It could be someone trying to find her in any of the places on those lists, who can find out anything about her at any time. Then the guy pointed out to her that if she wanted a disproportional carrot, she would see a disproportional stick. I believe she settled for twelve grand."
"That's a nasty way of doing business. I don't like it," He said firmly.
"Oh, grow up, Kyle," Patricia said bluntly, startling him. "You're playing with the big boys now, and information is power. Do you think every single one of your competitors isn't going to investigate each of you and leak whatever they want to the press? Or try to use it to discredit you and cause a drop in share price? Do you think if they have something they can blackmail you with, then they'll decide that he's a good guy and we'll just leave him alone? That's not how it works and deep down you know it."
Kyle shook his head in frustration. "So what if I decide I'm above all these power games and I'm not going to play?"
"Then you'll get killed with a thousand paper cuts," Patricia replied. "Fortunately for you we've got people who are really good at this stuff, so it's not something that's going to cross your desk very often."
"What a fucking day," He muttered.
"You get them like that sometimes. Then other days are awesome." She paused to put her cigarette out. "Mister Tripps used to say you need a few shit days so you can appreciate the good ones."
"Bring on the good ones," Kyle replied.
"You should get some sleep, Kyle," Patricia reminded him, standing up and heading into the suite.
Kyle sat in the dark for a few more minutes and then stubbed out his cigarette and headed inside. He turned off the lights in his bedroom, plunging the place into near-total darkness, stripped off and got into bed.
Sleep eluded him though.
He fidgetted, rolled over, couldn't get comfortable and couldn't quite drift off, so he got up again, grabbed a pair of shorts and a hooded jersey from the dressing room and went outside again.
"Psst. Kyle."
It took him a moment to trace the source of the loud whisper, but he saw Katie walking round the balcony from her suite to his. "How you doing?"
"Can't sleep," He told her, taking a seat.
"Me neither. I think that's been forty hours now or something," She replied.
"Jesus, Katie. You should be in your bed."
"It's not happening though. I just can't drift off."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. I just got back up myself."
She looked at him for a minute, her head tilted to one side. "Come with me, Kyle." She turned and began to walk around the balcony, her white trackpants and vest top making her easily visible in the dark. "Come on."
Kyle got up and followed her round the balcony and into her suite, seeing it was similar to his own in layout, but different in its decor. Everything in here was much lighter in colour and tone from the furniture to the walls. The lounge area was larger and the bedrooms were to the side instead of the back.
As he followed he began to get a little nervous, his stomach tensing as Katie led him into her bedroom.
"This is my room."
"Yeah. You know it's not a great idea for me to be in here, right?"
"Oh, chill out, Kyle. I just want to try something," She told him firmly. "Remember when we snuggled and fell asleep together?"
He shrugged. "Of course I do."
"Well I'm shattered, Kyle," She continued. "Like I'm exhausted. I haven't slept in two days, I'm jetlagged and I feel ill. I'm desperate to sleep, so at this point I'm willing to try anything."
Kyle frowned at her. This wasn't a good way to start things off as brother and sister. Plus, he could feel that hint of nervous excitement at the thought of holding her again.
"We don't have to get undressed, or get under the covers or anything like that. I just want to see if I can get as comfortable as I can, and hopefully get some rest."
"You're kidding, right?"
To his surprise her eyes immediately began to fill up with tears, and her hands flew up to cover them.
"Katie, I didn't mean to upset you," He said quickly. "I just think that the two us sleeping together is not the smartest thing to do."
"I'm tired, Kyle. I'm tired, and I'm all alone here, and the only person I know is you. I don't know who I can trust, I'm completely out my depth, and all I want is to get some sleep."
Kyle took a couple of steps forward to where she sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a hug. He could feel her holding him, grateful for the comfort, and after a couple of minutes she let him go and wiped her eyes.
"I'll stay for a little while, but as soon as you're asleep, I'm going back to my room," He said, feeling a huge pang of empathy for her, going through all the same crappy emotional rollercoaster he was.
"Kyle, if I can get to sleep, then that's all I need," She replied, giving him a little smile.
He nodded and walked round the side of the bed, lying on his side on top of the sheets, and Katie rolled herself in so he was snuggled in behind her.
The smell of her hair and the feel of her against him brought back memories of Myrtle Beach in her room and Kyle took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Without conscious thought they both made small adjustments to accommodate the other. The positioning of a hand, the turn of an elbow. A foot sliding between his, the angle of his hips and her buttocks, and within moments his arms were wrapped tight around her, her arms holding him in place.
"Kyle," She whispered in the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"I've missed this."
"Me too," He whispered back. "Now close your eyes and go to sleep."
She was gone within a few minutes, and Kyle slowly slid his arm out from under her, taking a great deal of care to not wake her, but eventually he was able to extract himself from the bed. He lifted the sheet over her carefully, then left quietly.
He sat in what was fast becoming his 'usual' chair and lit up, enjoying being back in the darkness when he heard footsteps from his right, and spotted Kara on her balcony. He was in two minds if he should say anything to her or not when she spotted the cigarette flare as he inhaled.
"Kyle?"
"Hey," He said softly. "I can't sleep."
"Neither can I."
"Come and have a seat," He suggested.
She hesitated for a moment but then walked round and sat down.
"Sorry again about earlier, Kara," Kyle said, keeping his voice low. "I wasn't trying to make you feel uncomfortable or anything."
"Yeah, I kinda bit your head off," She admitted. "I'm not great at dealing with guys."
Kyle caught himself about to point out that she was exceptional at dealing with guys when it came to the lapdance he remembered so vividly, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.
"Plus, it's a bit messed up, knowing that your brother has seen you stripping," She added.
"In fairness, I didn't know we were related, and neither did you," He pointed out.
"I know, but still....."
His thoughts turned to Katie and the things they'd unwittingly done together. "It could have been worse, Kara."
"Yeah, I could have given you a private dance."
Kyle was thinking that it would have been worse if they'd had sex, but now he realised she didn't know she'd given him a lapdance that was so hot it had made him cum.
His silence cued her in. "Oh, fuck. I gave you a private dance?"
"Afraid so," He said quietly a moment later. "If it's any consolation to your professional pride, I thought you were excellent."
"Really not the best time to point that out," She murmured.
"Yeah, I know," Kyle agreed. "The whole thing's a bit.... awkward to navigate."
"You think?"
He shrugged. "I guess."
"When were you in?"
"Spring break, three years ago. You want some details of the conversation we had, see if you can remember?" He offered.
"I'm not sure if I want to remember or not."
"Okay. Let me know if you do. If it helps. Whatever you need."
"I'll think about it."
"So you grew up in North Carolina then?" He asked, trying to change the subject onto something that might be more comfortable for her.
"Yeah."
"How was it?"
"North Carolina?"
Kyle chuckled. "No, growing up. What was your life like?"
"It was good until I turned ten and my mom died."
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged. "Just one of those things. Drunk driver hit her, killed her instantly. At least it was quick. After that Dad began to drink and things went to shit."
Kyle didn't know what to say. By the sounds of it, she had it rough growing up.
"I left home as soon as I could, and by that point he had lost his job and didn't want to work anyway. I had two part-time jobs when I was at school, and I used to hide the money I made so we had food and the bills got paid. Otherwise he drank it, or sold stuff."
Kyle wondered why Danny Tripps didn't help her out at that point, or at least, help out her father and get him back on the right path again.
"That sounds like a tough way to grow up, Kara," Kyle said quietly.
"Just another of life's learning experiences," She replied, rolling it out like an automatic response.
"So where did you go when you left home?"
"I went to stay with a guy I'd met online in Chicago, but that turned out to be bullshit, so then I travelled for a few months, doing odd jobs, crashing in my car."