Crystal Clear Ch. 23

Claire said, "Do you know what Hugh does that you don't?"

Joe looked puzzled by her question. She clearly knew something he didn't.

"He parties. He goes on vacations. He has bunnies all around. He relaxes in his famous mansion or at one ofPlayboy's spas. He relaxes."

After an awkward silence, Joe studied Claire and finally spoke in a low voice, "Point well taken."

* * * * *

Jim

I sat watching out the window of the elegant corporate jet. I'd noticed the tail number was 'ME2' – Mansard Enterprises jet number two. I wondered how large a fleet of aircraft he had. We were expecting one other passenger – Claire, one of the loves in my life.

I looked out the tinted window and saw one of Joe Mansard's white limousines pulling through an airport security gate and heading in our direction. It stopped at the bottom of the stairway leading into the plane. The chauffeur hopped out, ran around the front of the car to the rear door, and opened it, offering a hand to the gorgeous woman inside.

Claire appeared, and I could see her thanking him for his assistance, even shaking his hand. She never treated someone badly or as though they were beneath her. She thanked shop people for their help, absolutely loved Nadia – our housekeeper back in Tennessee, and went out of her way to leave an extra tip for waiters and waitresses – she'd been one about ten years earlier and remembered those lean years.

As the pilot welcomed her at the top of the stairway, I could hear Claire ask him, "Are you allowed to tell me where we're going. Neither Joe nor Beth told me; all I got were instructions to bring warm weather clothing and swimwear, prepare for possibly cools night, be prepared to party, and where to meet you."

The pilot chuckled. "He likes to do that. We're headed to the Galapagos Islands off the South American coast. Joe is flying in from Beijing by way of Tokyo where he's picking up Beth, and then Hawaii for refueling. They're in the air now, so we should get there about the same time. I talked to their pilot by satellite phone a couple of hours ago a while after they left Hawaii. For them, it's a forty-six-hundred mile trip."

Claire asked, "Are we off now?"

"Yes. As soon as we get our ATC clearance."

Claire came around the bulkhead near the cabin door and suddenly saw me. She looked puzzled; I shouldn't be here; I should be at some studio making my part of a movie calledDownslope. My presence didn't compute. She cocked her head to one side in confusion.

I stood, and Claire came into my arms and kissed me. "You rat. You could have told me last night or this morning, or whenever this little jaunt got planned. I assume you're going with me?"

Jim laughed, "It was more fun this way, and yes, I'm going along for the long weekend. Joe Mansard made it sound like a command performance. Besides, he's the only billionaire I know so I thought he'd be an interesting person to get to know." Claire sat, and I flopped down in the seat across the narrow aisle from her. We both buckled in.

Claire asked, "What's going to happen down there. I just found out where we're going."

I said, "Well, I'm told that some young woman Joe Mansard loves kept poking a stick in his eye trying to get him to take a vacation. So we're all going on vacation. He was exceptionally pleasant on the phone, and I briefly got to talk to his daughter Beth too."

* * * * *

Joe and Beth's new Gulfstream 650 was already on the ground when our aircraft landed at Puerto Villamil. Our pilot had circled the Galapagos once so we could both get a feel for the islands, the volcanoes, and the isolation of the Galapagos from other land – none in sight. On the ground, it became obvious that long-term aircraft parking was discouraged; there were no parking areas for aircraft. Besides Mansard's two jets, one battered twin engine plane sat on flat tires in a remote corner of the small airport.

Joe and Beth came down their boarding ladder simultaneously with Claire and me. The four of us met in the small space between the two aircraft.

Joe shook hands cordially and said to the two of us, "Thank you for putting up with that long flight to get here. We had favorable winds and a fast turnaround time in Hawaii, so we've been here for two hours – taking a nap to try to adjust for the change in time zones from Asia."

I expressed appreciation for the invitation, and shook hands firmly with Joe, meeting him face-to-face for the first time. I felt both a cold and warmth about him – conflicting feelings, maybe from a confused man. Beth got introduced, and we hugged by way of greeting.

Claire had pestered me on the flight about how I'd been invited to this trip; however, I stuck to my promise to Joe not to divulge anything further. She gave up in frustration, and read a pile of magazines and napped for the six-hour trip from LA.

Joe said with a lilt to his voice, and his arms spread wide, "I am on vacation. This is the first vacation I've taken since I was fourteen years old, and that one was forced on me by my parents."

Claire motioned with her hand between Joe and Jim. Joe explained, "Well, I know you're in a romantic relationship with Jim, you're in a romantic relationship with Beth and me, and we'll see what develops between the four of us. We're here for three full days starting tomorrow, and leave early on the fourth to head back to LA. The smaller plane will leave us here, the large one will try to stay if we can convince the authorities about overnight parking. Either way, we'll have to stop on the way back, since jet fuel is unavailable here."

Claire said, "But you didn't explain why you and Jim know each other."

I smirked. Joe said, "Well, until today we didn't. I just thought we needed a fourth for bridge." He turned to a Jeep with flapping canvas sides that had just pulled onto the airport property. He said, "Ah, this is probably our ride to the boat."

Claire exclaimed, "Boat?"

We picked up our bags and backpacks and put them in the rear of the Jeep and climbed aboard. As we did Beth explained to Claire, "Joe had his new yacht directed here. Only a few people know about it. It'll easily accommodate us in much better comfort than any of the tourist camps on the island, plus it's more private and more secure. Moreover, we can use it or one of its tenders to prowl around some of the lesser-populated islands if we want."

Joe said, "What about our guide?"

Beth allowed, "He said he'd meet us first thing tomorrow morning at dockside in Puerto Villamil. Tomorrow is the volcano crater. The helicopter should be here first thing too."

Claire exclaimed again, "Helicopter?"

Beth went on, "Yes, if we're to pack in as much as we can in three days we need a whirly bird to move us around. Joe is impatient, and deemed a hike up the volcano would take too long. Besides, the chopper can give us some perspective, drop us at the rim of the volcano, and pick us up later."

A dark skinned South American welcomed them in broken English, and then drove them carefully over terrible dirt and ancient macadam roads through the small town. Over the noise of the Jeep's engine and the wind, Beth explained further, "So, tomorrow we'll get to see some of the rare animals that are only found here and near the volcanoes. The day after that I've lined up some scuba diving lessons in the morning, and a prowl around a shallow wreck in the afternoon if the sharks aren't too bad. We can also get some beach time in. The third day the yacht will take a lazy course through the islands, and then we're heading home on the fourth day."

Claire said in a worried tone, "Wait! Wait! Sharks?"

Joe nudged Claire, "If this goes well and Mansard Enterprises doesn't fall apart while I'm gone, maybe I'll do this vacation thing again in a few years." Claire rolled her eyes upward to indicate the man was beyond salvation.

* * * * *

According to Joe, the yacht was small – only a hundred and twenty feet long. The yacht dwarfed everything else in the harbor and even made the town look small – it was. The huge craft had anchored several hundred feet off shore. Four distinct decks could be seen between the waterline and the flying bridge.

Joe explained, "I just bought this. It's for Claire and Beth, as you'll see from the name on the boat – the 'Beth Claire.' I've met the captain of the vessel, but not the other crew members. There are a couple of bodyguards around too, and they're supposed to remain invisible to me; I think there are one or two on the island too. I hate the security thing. The boat is ocean going, and can comfortably do thirty knots in normal seas. Somewhere onboard there's also some heavy artillery and other weapons in case of pirates."

The Jeep wheeled up at the end of a long jetty, beside which sat two polished mahogany tenders. A young man in a bright white starched uniform snapped to attention upon our arrival. Another strode towards the Jeep with a welcoming smile.

"Ms. Mansard, Ms. Whitman, Mr. Mansard, and Mr. Mellon, welcome to Galapagos, and welcome to the Beth Claire. He smiled at the women, obviously aware that one was Claire and the other Beth, but he didn't know who was who. Please follow me, and I will get you situated in the tender before boarding your luggage.

"

Claire and Beth opted to stand on the short pier for a moment and look back at the quaint little tourist and fishing village. Claire spoke, "This is like a postcard from seventy years ago. Everything is so quaint, old, and weather beaten."

Beth commented, "The climate here is pretty moderate. This is a warm day for this time of year. My research on the Internet said we also might expect some fog in the early morning hours, but nothing that won't burn off in a couple of hours of sunlight."

Claire twirled around on the sandy dirt, her skirt swinging out away from her body to reveal her legs and her bare backside. Both Joe and I saw the display of joy and then looked at each other.

Joe said, "Jim, I'm jealous of you. You've known her so long now – almost two years, and you see her constantly. I find she's refreshing, and she makes me rethink how I'm living my life. That's why I'm taking this long weekend and maybe others to follow. Don't tell her yet, but I'm getting soft in my old age."

I studied the billionaire, but from the comfort of having many millions of my own safely locked away. "Why have me? I understand the boy-girl thing, but you could have asked a hundred other people to even out the playtime."

Joe smiled, turned, and walked to the tender. Over his shoulder, he said, "You're Beth's favorite singer; she thinks you're sexy. Her pick."

The crisp young lieutenant of the Beth Claire soon pulled the tender along side at the fantail of the large yacht. He secured the lines as the other equally adept man helped the women off, and then the men. Lines were secured further, and the tender was lifted a few feet above the water by hoists.

The captain appeared. "Welcome Mr. Mansard and your company. You've met Andrew and Kevin I see." He nodded to the two young men. "The other two of the crew, Luba and Renata, are as you specified; they should be here in a moment. Your other men are here too; they've checked the boat, the town, and the island, and see no threats." I wondered if I could live needing that kind of security around all the time.

Everyone moved to go up onto the main part of the craft, using a narrow handrail to ascend a short stairway.

At the top, I looked at Joe, "Specified?"

Joe smirked, "See whether you can tell when you meet them, which I never have, but if the captain says the two other crew members are according to my specs then they probably are."

Just then a gorgeous, buxom brown haired girl in her mid twenties appeared with a tray of drinks. She had a smile that lit up the room and clearly a bright and sunny disposition. The flirtatious looks and signals she gave off to each of us invited something more. In a cheery voice she said, "Good afternoon everyone. I'm Luba. I thought you might like some drinks after your plane travel. I brought you water and soft drinks; however, if you want anything stronger – oranything at all – please just ask." She smiled at Joe particularly, and her 'anything at all' comment had been emphasized and especially directed at him.

After she'd served, Jim said, "I think I could make a guess at one or two of your 'specs.'"

Joe said in a challenging tone, "Let's wait until we meet Renata, then we'll see how close you can come to what I asked for in the way of cabin hands."

The words were no soon our of Joe's mouth than a second, knock-you-socks off, blond model quality girl in her mid-twenties appeared with a clipboard in hand. My first impression was that she wore no bra, for under her thin crew polo shirt with the name Beth Claire embroidered on the shirt, her areolas were slightly visible through the white material of the shirt. She too had a smile any dentist would be proud of, and obviously a flirty and happy disposition. She looked between Joe and me. "Mr. Mansard?"

Joe caught her eye and spoke, "That'd be me."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I am Renata, and it is a pleasure to meet you. I wanted your preferences on dinner."

Joe studied the young woman a moment, obviously pleased with her demeanor. After the silence, during which she didn't dare interrupt, he asked, "If I were not to help you, what would you produce for us?"

Renata looked surprised. She looked at her clipboard a moment. "We would probably serve a light vichyssoise, cold because of the warm day, and then a small garden salad to whet the palate. A dab of sherbet would be the intermission piece. As the entrée, I would hope a coq au vin would be acceptable. Included with the entrée would be some wild mushrooms and Mediterranean vegetables in a rich wine sauce. For dessert, besides coffee, tea, or liqueurs, I understand that you enjoy freshly baked brownies with vanilla ice cream." She paused, gave a smile that melted everyone's heart, and looked expectantly at Mansard.

He bowed to her. "I accept your menu without a single reservation." He smiled and waved her away. Just before she disappeared, he said, "Oh, Renata. Please also, some wine for our guests." She nodded and was gone. I found my eyes stinging from staring at her pert posterior as she left.

Two minutes later, one of the young men appeared carrying two bottles – one red and one white. He showed Mansard the labels, received a nod of acceptance, and then opened a small bar at the end of the room. Seconds later, he brought a small tray with several neutral wafers on it, along with two glasses containing a half-ounce of each wine.

Not a word was spoken, but Mansard ate one of the neutralizers, and then sipped the white wine examining its flavor. He passed the glass back with one word, "Perfect." Another wafer, a sip of the heavier red, and he uttered the same acceptance.

The steward accepted orders from the women and then the men. Seconds later, he delivered the glasses on the tray to each of the seated party, serving the women first. He produced a perfectly arranged antipasto plate and set it in the middle of the coffee table. On the plate were smoked salmon, cabana sausage slices, a variety of cheeses, apple slices, olives of several varieties, and stuffed cherry tomatoes. He smiled at us, made eye contact with Mansard to verify the acceptability of the provisions and service, and then backed away. He hovered near the bar with his back to us, but in range for anyone's request for service.

Beth and Claire started to talk about the yacht, the staff, and the hors d'oeuvres.

Joe turned to me with a slightly lecherous look on his face. "Do you have an initial guess as to my specifications for staff?"

I laughed; it'd been all I'd thought about since Renata disappeared. "First, the two young men are gay; this would ensure no competition for the young ladies and keep them happy with each other. For the young ladies you must have specified model quality women in their mid-twenties; they had to be busty, flirtatious, have uplifting dispositions, and be bisexual. I suspect they should also be 'available,' but that's a pure guess."

Joe chortled, "My, I am transparent, aren't I." I had the feeling he didn't smile all that much, and that this was almost a new experience for him. He had liked what he saw in Luba and Renata.

I said, "You have my attention ... on many fronts." I shot an obvious sideways glance at Beth Mansard who sat only a few feet from me talking to Claire. Beth looked beautiful. I took Joe's nod as acceptance to entertain impure thoughts about his daughter and not just Luba and Renata. I guess, if I didn't, he'd take care of that for me.

Claire had told me about Mansard's unique and sexually incestuous relationship with his adult daughter. Claire's philosophy was to hide nothing from the people she loved, and thus she had offered up this information to us weeks earlier when she'd started to spend more time with the billionaire and his bisexual daughter. Crystal, Ellen, and I, among others, encouraged the relationship with the Mansards because it made Claire happy and gave her some intellectual stimulation outside our circle of people in the entertainment industry.

After a few minutes of random conversation, the captain appeared. "Mr. Mansard and guests. I am available to give you a complete tour of the yacht whenever you would like." He turned specifically to Mansard, "I know you've only seen photographs of the boat, so I thought you might like to have a closer look at the real thing."

Mansard rose instantly, and thanked the man. "Thank you. I had planned to hunt you down for just such a tour in a few minutes. Please lead on; we will follow along." We all got up to go on the tour, each carrying our wine glass.

Captain Ed Boller, according to his nametag, began a recitation about the appointments and unique characteristics of the ship and each room as he led the tour, taking us up to the digitally-enhanced bridge initially, and working our way down to an engine room that housed four huge diesel engines in such a spotless and sanitary environment that a hospital operating room would have been envious. Not omitted were the large, interconnecting staterooms with king size beds; only a movable partition separated the view between the beds. Joe nodded to me during that part of the tour, and I realized he must have an exhibitionist and voyeur side to his personality.

After the tour, Renata appeared behind the party. The captain acknowledged her presence, and she pleasantly announced, "Dinner is ready to commence whenever you are ready."

Claire said, "I'm famished. The snacks on the plane and hors d'oeuvres were good, but I'm ready for the beautiful dinner she described earlier." She smiled at Renata.

Renata led us away from the captain, and into the spacious dining room on the main deck. Through the windows, we could see the sun setting over this part of the Pacific Ocean.

Renata seated the table, assisting the women with the napkins. When she placed the napkins in the men's laps, she innocently dragged her hand across the bulges in their pants, and then gave each a subtle smile to let us know the 'accidental touch' had not been so accidental. As she left the room, she subtly ran her finger behind my neck in a highly arousing gesture. I carefully studied her departure, especially her beautiful long tan legs and the tight little short shorts she wore that caressed her rear end leaving little to the imagination. When I turned back to the table I caught Joe, Beth, and Claire watching Renata's departure as well.

To be continued