Island Fever Ch. 01

Views from inside the front doorway also included the tropical forest and the infinity-edge swimming pool which seemingly emptied out into the Pacific in the distance. Additionally, the backyard included waterfalls, pools and rock fountains surrounded by lush, abundant landscaping.

Ahead and off to the left of the bar area was an informal eating nook that was nestled in a corner beside the glass windows and doors for maximum views of the outdoors. To preserve these views from nearby areas, the nook featured an all-glass table with acrylic chairs. Solid furniture would have obstructed the view and distracted from the openness.

Adjacent from the nook was the kitchen. A chef's dream, this kitchen contained two of each major appliance, and a trio of dishwashers. One of them was a huge machine that featured a conveyer belt for the cleaning and drying of the dishes. Cabinetry was maple with black granite countertops and backsplashes to contrast the light colors of the walls. The design of the ceiling mimicked the shape of the island and breakfast bar cabinetry. In the dining room, the dark wicker chairs and wooden table (large enough to comfortably seat 15) made an elegant statement without being too flashy.

The living room was seen from the dining room through an archway. There, the fireplace of French marble rose more than 20 feet and was framed by sweeping panels of mirrors. Glass doors revealed the awesome view of the pools and rock fountains against the backdrop of the lush forest.

Needless to say, the ladies were captivated as I took them on the whirlwind tour. Trish made the comment that she believed houses like this only existed in the movies, while Lindsay said that this was definitely nothing like the Ohio residence she had grown up on during all of her 18 years.

Before reaching the master suite, one would have to pass through the anteroom where the glass wall was showcased. Weighing a full two tons, the nine-foot-wide curving wall was 3,000 feet of 1/4-inch plate glass layered and secured into place. Over 1,000 fiber optic strands were inserted when the glass was installed. Those fiber optic strands produced dazzling, brilliant beams of light of 56 different patterns.

The ceiling here was also a work of art, consisting of four fiberglass sections forming a dome that was painted to resemble the evening sky and then illuminated with fiber optic lights to twinkle like bright stars. A medallion on the floor also reflected the changing colors of light.

The opposite wing of the mansion included a hobby room, shower room, ten guest suites with washrooms, the home office and an OmniMAX movie theater. The walk, 200 feet in length from one wing to the other, was entertaining.

One of my favorite features was the wall of electronic art located just before arriving at the huge office. Three abstractly-configured, etched glass frames contained flat screen studio monitors for digital art. Thousands of digital photographs were stored in computers that drove the screens. The automation system could randomly sequence the pictures, or change them after a sensor detected someone passing by. Either way, the digital art was unique and provided an interesting and ever-changing variety of images.

Beyond the hobby room was a spiral staircase that led to a rooftop garden overlooking the main pool and tennis court. An elevator descended to the below-ground recreation room, which included two pool tables, plus a wide variety of slot and pinball machines with bubblers, arcade games and neon lights above. I even had a PlayStation 3, X-Box 360 and a trio of Falcon Northwest Mach V computer systems with Internet access available. The bright colors of the carpet throughout added to the overall sense of fun that I wanted the recreation room to portray to others.

After doubling back to the main entrance, I turned and smiled at the lovely collection of ladies. "This is as much your home for the upcoming six weeks as it is mine. I want you to explore and dabble in everything that there is to do here. The only place that is strictly off-limits to you, without getting permission first, is my own bedroom. No one is allowed in there without knocking first. Please, now ... can everyone agree with that?" Nods all around...

"There is so much that I want to do here!" Trish squealed, obviously full of excitement. "I want to try the recreation room where all those games and pool tables are. But I also want to go swimming in that beautiful pool outside. I want to play putt-putt golf and watch movies in that theater! I wanna go to the beach, too! Think how awesome it must be!" Indeed, Trish was literally bubbling over with enthusiasm.

"I could go for in a good dip in the pool," Pamela mused. "It felt so humid and dry outside."

I smiled at her. "Another thing all of you will like is that each guest suite comes with its own personal climate conditioning system. Just type whatever temperature you want on the wall panel, and you're set. It ranges from 50 to 85 degrees Fahrenheit. The change is almost instantaneous. It is the best climate conditioning system money can buy."

"50?" Devon gushed. "I don't think we want it THAT low."

"My brother, Eduardo, keeps his house around 60 degrees in the summer," Camille complained. "I'm always cold there. He does it because of his allergies. Whenever I visit him, I sit outside more often than not. I'm basically forced to. It feels like a constant arctic freeze inside his house."

"I would sit outside if I were you, too," Trish offered. "Isn't the weather in San Diego gorgeous year-round, eh? I would doubt there is even a need for an air conditioner."

"I bet there is plenty more to see in this mansion," Amy said, looking my way. "You didn't show us everything..."

I shook my head at her. "No, I didn't. But I will in due time. Feel free to branch out and explore on your own. You may go anywhere except my private suite. As I think about it, Louisa's room is off-limits, too. But I see no reason why you would want to go into her suite. She is our cook and housekeeper, and is 76 years of age."

Pamela glanced about in all different directions. "The guy who owns the strip club where I work has a mansion sort of like this. I say SORT OF because this place is so much better. He throws holiday parties for us there every year. I must say that this house is a hundred times bigger, too."

"And a million times more impressive, I'd wager," Trish chimed in. Excellent, I told myself. Clearly, all of my esteemed guests were in love with the house and everything that it had to offer. Especially Trish. I felt relieved. Indeed, everything seemed to be falling into place.

"Where can a girl get something to drink around here?" Amy asked, obviously referring to alcohol.

I pointed toward the circular wet bar located on the other side of the front room. "You will find plenty of whatever you need behind the counter there. It is well stocked-up."

Amy smiled in delight, then sashayed off toward the bar. Camille followed her. Swish swish, wiggle wiggle ... it sure was a sight to admire the lush, rounded backsides of Amy and Camille as they made their way over to the bar. I found myself temporarily mesmerized by the wondrous view.

"I'm too young to drink," Lindsay pouted, looking at me. Oh dear Lord, I said inwardly, Lindsay was a complete and total doll. She looked incredibly sexy with that tiny pout on her beautiful, unblemished face as well. Lindsay was too young to drink? Oh ... poor baby. I felt like wrapping my arms around that little body of hers and telling her that everything would be all right. What a sweetheart!...

"It's okay," Trish said, slipping an arm around Lindsay's shoulder. "You don't need any of that nasty stuff anyway."

Lindsay offered a very shy, somewhat embarrassed smile the very instant Trish wrapped that arm around her shoulder. The 18-year-old's humble and innocent nature seemed out of place amongst her older and more seasoned counterparts here (none more so than me, to be perfectly honest).

One of my early priorities would be to get Lindsay to open up to us over the coming days and weeks. Being a sheltered girl from Ohio, with devout religious beliefs, who also just graduated from high school three days ago, everything here may have been too much for Lindsay to digest all at once. The situation was not helped by the fact that she was also away from her family for the first time ever in her life.

Perhaps I was wrong - it has happened many times before, of course - but I got the sense that Lindsay seemed somewhat intimidated by all of the things that were happening around her thus far. With her humble upbringing thus far in life, one could definitely understand why. Over time, I hoped to help bring Lindsay out of that apparent life-long shell. The others would have to play an important role in that, too.

"Alcohol is bad for you," Trish added, slowly guiding Lindsay away. "Trust me, sweetheart. You don't ever need to get started on alcohol. All it does is lead to bad things down the road." Lindsay nodded her head as Trish chirped, "Let's go into the kitchen and see if we can find something decent for you to drink, like some orange juice. My own personal favorite is Kool-Aid." Trish glanced at me for a moment before telling Lindsay, "Jeremy promised me a few weeks back, when I was talking to him on webcam, that he would have plenty of Kool-Aid on hand for me."

"I do not think you will be disappointed," I assured her. "You'll find enough Kool-Aid in there to last you for the rest of your life. Literally speaking, of course."

"There is nothing wrong with getting started on alcohol," Amy commented, taking a sip of wine. Thankfully, she seemed pleased with its taste. That gave me yet another sense of relief, too. Obviously, I wanted everything on the island to be perfect. The only way that would be possible is if all of the ladies were happy and content with what was offered here. What kind of host would I be otherwise?

Camille nodded her head, seemingly in agreement with Amy about the prospects of drinking alcohol. With Trish and Lindsay now safely out of earshot, Amy promptly continued, "It does not lead to bad things down the road, either. Like anything else, that only happens when the alcohol becomes an addiction that spirals out of control. Just don't let that happen to you, though, and there will be no problems." Amy grinned and added in a most devious tone of voice, "I do not know about the rest of you, but me personally, I would LOVE to get Lindsay totally drunk someday very soon!"

Although I could not tell if Amy was serious with what she had just said or was merely joking around, I narrowed my eyes in displeasure at her regardless. Needless to say, I did not like or approve of that particular comment.

"Lindsay is too young and impressionable to be forced or coerced into anything," Pamela surmised, looking at Amy with a disapproving glare. "I hope you were kidding with what you just said, Amy. If Lindsay wants to try alcohol, let her do it on her own terms. She does not need someone to get her drunk, no matter if it would be a thrill to you or not. What a harsh thing to say about such an innocent girl."

Good, I said to myself. There was at least one person here - Pamela - who felt the same, exact way I did. Even better, someone else took objection to Amy's words as well.

"Lindsay is a baby compared to the rest of us," Devon chimed in. "We are all ages 25 to 30. She is 18. Not only that, but the girl seems so incredibly shy and apprehensive about everything here. I just think that it is plain wrong to talk about her that way, Amy. Just plain wrong. Come to think of it, three of us are 30, and I am 27. There is a 9 plus year age difference between Lindsay and four of the five other girls she is with now. That must be awkward for her. I know it would be awkward for me at that age."

"If I got Lindsay drunk, it would help loosen her up."

Pamela tilted her head and shot Amy quite the evil eye. "Stop it! It is wrong to even think something like that."

Amy snickered at the reaction she was getting from Pamela and Devon. She added fuel to the fire by chortling, "You know my motto in life? Screw milk ... vodka does a body good! Given the chance, Lindsay would think the same, exact way. We need to loosen her up, break her in - so to speak."

Devon frowned and shook her head at Amy. "You better be glad that Trish is in the kitchen right now with Lindsay. If Trish heard you say these things, Amy, she would be most unhappy. Trish really likes Lindsay, you know."

"And has nothing but Lindsay's best interests in mind," Pamela nodded, her arms folded across her front. "I can guarantee you that Trish does not have a selfish thought at all when it comes to Lindsay. Not one selfish thought."

"Oh ... settle down!" Amy squealed, flicking her wrist toward Pamela and Devon. "I was only kidding..."

"Really?" Devon asked, obviously skeptical.

"Trish wants a piece of Lindsay's ass just like the rest of us," Camille quipped. "All Trish cares about is getting her clutches into that little, teen ass."

"Not true!" Devon angrily huffed, upset with those words. "Trish really, truly does care about Lindsay. Didn't you see how she treated her on the boat ride from Peru?"

Camille did not concur. "What I saw was Trish's eyes ravaging Lindsay's body at every single opportunity."

"You did not!" Devon shot back.

Amy let loose with an evil snicker. "Trish is really no different than the rest of us. She wants to stick her nose as far up Lindsay's ass as it will go. That is probably what she is working toward right now in the kitchen by being so nice and friendly toward her. Come on ... admit it."

"Amy!" Devon gasped, taken off-guard.

Camille licked her lips and clearly agreed with Amy's wicked mindset. "Now THAT sounds like a good idea!"

Amy smiled. "I bet Trish is wanting to strap one on, and take that little 100 pound body - or however much Lindsay weighs - and split her like a wishbone. Snap her in half! Snap her in half, put her back together, then do it again! And again, and again, and again!"

Pamela frowned and shook her head. "All this crude talk and thinking; I thought I left the strip club behind me. This was supposedly a vacation for me, not more of the same." She sighed and added, "Maybe it is true that you can leave the strip club, but the strip club never truly leaves you. A friend of mine told me that years ago."

Amy's green eyes flashed with mischief. "Hmmmmm ... how about Lindsay as a stripper? I would definitely pay for a lap dance from her. I'd even pay to lick her little pussy. Or maybe I'd make her pay me..."

"You are one sick and twisted freak, Amy."

"I know," she told Devon, laughing. "And I love it!"

"I don't want to hear any more of this!" Pamela declared, obviously becoming quite upset.

Since it seemed as if this discussion had the potential to turn into a heated argument, I decided to put an end to it before things got that far. "Settle down, ladies. I am sure that all of you are a bit irritable and cranky after all those airline miles today, but there is absolutely no need for raising your voice. Take a step back and relax. There are plenty of drinks behind the counter where Amy and Camille are. In the walk-in cooler, in the kitchen, you will find a wide variety of orange juice, soda products, milk and punch. Everything here is for all of you to enjoy. Why not get something to drink and settle down ... relax?"

"Alcohol and I simply do not mix any more," Devon told us. "I could go for a tall glass of orange juice, though." With that, Devon turned and then made her way into the kitchen.

"I could go for a tall glass of Lindsay," Amy mumbled, although I could make out what she said. She finished off her glass of expensive wine and mused, "Or just a shot..."

I simply looked at Amy and shook my head. She was clearly a very out-spoken and blunt - almost gruff - type of person. Amy needed to use a lot more tact when choosing her words. What if Trish, who seemed overly protective of Lindsay thus far, had heard all of these naughty things Amy was saying? Well trained in kickboxing, the athletic Trish may very well take it upon herself to boot Amy into next week. The last thing I wanted was any sort of altercation between the girls.

Moving onto better subjects, I should mention that Louisa, the elderly housekeeper, had set up a large table with baskets of fruit in the dining room with a wide selection of snacks, including a variety of smoked fish, breads and cheeses.

"Soon," I told the ladies, "we'll get your suitcases, then your room assignments. I see that most of you have already made friends, so if you find someone you want to share a room with, let me know. If not, you'll room with someone of my choosing for now, but you can always pick someone else later. Your comfort is my number-one priority."

The ladies ate and drank, chatted and got acquainted. About an hour later, when everyone seemed to have settled down and found a room-mate, I asked for two volunteers to help me with getting the luggage. Devon and Camille were quick to offer their services, so I took them to the main carport and the three of us hopped into the Jeep. Driving to the dock was much longer in distance than walking to it, but the amount of time was basically the same.

In a few minutes, Devon, Camille and I had the luggage loaded into the trailer that was attached to the Jeep, and we were on our way back up to the mansion. Once there, all of the girls pulled their suitcases off of the trailer and quickly headed for their respective rooms. Before they left, however, I reminded them that the big reception party was at 9:00pm tonight. Everyone had to attend. It was to happen two hours later than our standard time for dinner of 7:00pm each night. Once I made those two points perfectly clear to them, I decided to head off toward my own suite.

-

To the right of the anteroom was the master bedroom. My own personal haven, the domed ceiling detail above the bed incorporated 100 fiber optic stars which twinkled in the dark. The illusion was that a seven foot opening had been carved through the roof to reveal the evening sky. It had fooled the vast majority of those who had been here at night. They wondered why there was such a big hole in the roof. My youngest niece once asked if a meteorite had struck here!

With a single touch of the automated system, an eight foot wide screen slowly dropped from the ceiling directly in front of the bed. At the same time, the lights dimmed, any music playing ceased, and the bedroom was suddenly transformed into a nighttime theater. One had a choice of high-definition television or DVD playback for the big screen.

Across from the bed was a sitting area that was stepped up from the rest of the room. This large space included a desk on one side next to a window with a full view of the outdoors and, on the opposite side, a morning kitchen with a small refrigerator, sink, counter space and bar.

The master bath was to the left side of the anteroom. A whirlpool spa was positioned here to maximize the view of the scenic south beach in the distance. Sunk into a black granite surface, the tub offered side-by-side seating to enjoy the outdoor scenery or a DVD movie on the flat panel screen in the wall beside the bath. The ceiling overhead featured a painted tropical sky with its orange hue dabbed with wispy clouds. The floor was heated to alleviate any cold chills after stepping out of the spa.

But my destination at this moment in time was completely sealed from all other areas of the mansion. Its entrance was behind an ordinary wall panel within my private suite that gave no indication that it was hiding anything.

To access it, I had to punch in a detailed security code on the suite's LCD panel. Once doing so, the computer asked for voice verification. Then, after saying my name out loud, the wall opened and suddenly, the secret room was revealed.