Gold, Fire & Refinement

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"There is no security on this earth, there is only opportunity." ~General Douglas MacArthur

On the east side of theLarvotto Peninsula, the Monte-Carlo Bay Wilson Hotel and Resort stood in regalelegance; a spectacular sight, a one-of-a-kind destination. The lobby of the main hotel offered glorious three-hundred-sixty degree views of the sea, unlike any other. This destination was where the hotel's owner and primary investor was thinking about bringing his bride-to-be for their honeymoon, now less than five months away. The property provided a relaxing and exciting vacation retreat, and—at the same time, was a business person's paradise. Four hundred thirty rooms had all the latest technological necessities and expectations any guest could want or need. Designed to help groups meet their goals for gathering, it was perfect for weddings and honeymoons, as well as business meetings, seminars, product launches, press conferences, and conventions. With eighty percent of the rooms boasting sea views and expansive balconies, the idea of combining business and pleasure was clear everywhere, from the entrance to the lobby, to the restaurants, casinos, spas, and nightclubs—and in every room, suite, condo, and duplex apartment.

After spending an afternoon playing golf on a course stretching its eighteen holes between both the French and the Italian Riviera, the two investors who owned the course, Harvey Evan Wilson and Evan Drake McNeese, were in for the evening. Joined by one of Harvey's movie-star friends and his wife, just two of many stars who vacationed at the resort, they finished enjoying dinner in one of the resort's three five-star restaurants. After dinner, the nephew and his uncle were relaxing at the bar inside The Velvet Robe, a nightclub boasting exotic waitresses to match its exotic international cocktails. It was early evening, but Uncle Drake's eyes were already glassy from working on his third drink too many.

"Your ex-wife, man," Drake said. "That Dinah. Woo! She sure is some fine filly. Look at her, over there sittin' with Mama. There ain't a beauty in this place that can come close to her."

"If you say so," said Harvey Wilson. "Obviously, once upon a time, I thought she was a knockout." Only one drink behind his Uncle Drake, the younger descendant of notorious drinker McKinley Charles Francis McNeese, had always been able to hold his liquor a lot better.

"Just look at her. Man, she's more'n a knockout. I know you two couldn't make it work, and your little fiancée is still the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on. But—"

"Zarah's a real beauty," Harvey said. "Inside and out."

"And now she's a star, nephew. A super star. Famous. All over the world."

Harvey laughed. "Don't ever say that to her. She hates it. She didn't set out to find fame. But ... I guess it found her."

"And now you're gone have to fight off all the fellas who'll be trying to date her."

"Nah. I don't have to worry about that," Harvey said. "Zarah's an engaged woman. All mine, and I'm all hers."

"Dinah was yours too once. And, well. I know she's a wild one and all. But she's still real easy on the eyes. For sure."

"You wouldn't kick her out of bed, huh?"

"I would not. Just look at her." 

Harvey's ex-wife and his mother were sitting together at a table several feet away from the bar as Drake carried on. "That smokin' body, that lustrous dark hair, them blue eyes, and man, that sexy beauty mark," he said. "Woowee boy! Them looks have made their mark on this old dog. She's something else. I mean, you married her, and you only pick the loveliest of the lovelies."

"A weakness that led to the biggest mistake of my life."

"I don't know if I'd put it like that." Drake looked down, then up again at his nephew. "I mean. For sure, she wasn't who you thought she was."