Philanthropic

There are moments that you'll always remember. Some of them are so common as to be nearly ubiquitous: first kiss, first love, losing your virginity. There are others that are a little less common, but not by much: your wedding day, the birth of your children. And then there are the more rarified experiences: bungee jumping, say. Or having some rich asshole offer you half a million dollars to spend the night with your wife.

"I'm... I'm sorry, what did you just say?" I couldn't have heard that right.

Simon Richards chuckled, amused at my consternation. The multimillionaire was in his late 40s, but he could easily have passed for his mid 30s. He was tall, fit, tan, and blandly handsome. A small scar under his lip was the only interesting thing on his face, the only imperfection that gave it even a hint of character. A well dressed man, even his shorts, t-shirt and Hawaiian shirt seemed to be tailored. Richards was one of those quiet, reclusive kinds of rich people, the ones that avoid the limelight. The dangerous ones.

"I said, Adam, that I would like your wife to spend the night with me. In exchange, I will pay a half million dollars, half for her and half for you. I promise, she will have a wonderful time, and you will be well taken care of." He gestured to the woman at my side, where my wife should have been, an exotic beauty named Grace. "Grace will, I assure you, make the time go by quite swiftly. In fact, you may wish to extend your time with her for another day or so, once you've sampled her charms."

Next to him-- too close to him-- sat Erin, my wife of nine years. She was a beautiful woman, with hazel eyes and golden blonde hair. Fit, too, but, if I'm honest, not a patch on Grace. If I were to see both women in a bar, I'd... well, I'd probably go strike out with Grace and then try to hit up Erin. I was realistic about my chances there; I'm nothing special looks-wise, although I'm in reasonably good shape.

Erin was why we were here in the first place. She was the executive assistant for the CEO of a small firm which Richards had acquired. Once the deal went through, she, along with her boss and a few other higher ups that had worked on it, had been invited to Richards' private island. Spouses were required to attend in order for the employee to come, according to Erin. But I'd noticed pretty early on that several wives somehow didn't get that note.

I'd quickly noticed how enthralled she was with Richards. I hadn't met him previous to our arrival, but once we were on the island, he had taken the whole visiting delegation around on a tour. However, anyone with half a brain could see that he was giving her a tour, and the rest of us were just following along.

Erin had made no real effort to stay by my side during the tour, but after we were shown to our bungalow, she fucked me into the mattress for hours before we went to dinner together. After a wonderful evening of dining and dancing, we returned to our quarters for a sampler of usually forbidden sex acts that she pulled out on special occasions. I should have been suspicious then.

The next morning, she told me about the various excursions I could go on: scuba diving, snorkeling, parasailing, and more. I asked if she wanted to come as well, but she just laughed, kissed me lovingly, and told me she just wanted to work on her tan. I'd always wanted to try scuba diving, so I went out in the morning. When I returned near noon, one of Richards' assistants told me that we were invited to lunch with him, and that Erin was already there.

And she was. Already close enough to him to touch, heads close enough that a slight shift by one or the other would destroy me. To her very small credit, she jumped slightly away from him when I entered, and he rose to greet me warmly. I growled, "I think that's my chair, Mr. Richards."

He just chuckled, that irritating little superior chuckle, as he sat again. "Ah, but our drinks are already here. There's no reason to shift around, Adam. Besides, you'll find Grace to be a wonderful companion." She nodded politely to me, the beginnings of a come hither smile on her lips.

I almost walked out then. Something had gone wrong; this was some kind of ambush. I'm a reporter, and I grew up in a bad neighborhood. The locale and my wife's ministrations the night before had dulled my senses, but now I was sharp again. Erin's boss, Mr. Elgin, was there, as well as his wife; a couple of blue bloods hanging out with a Bluebeard.

More importantly, two of Richards' security retinue were there as well, a whippet-like male model-cum-Blackwater merc and a huge Black man that looked like a bouncer. Of the two, my instincts told me to be more afraid of the former. The latter moved behind me, not quite blocking my exit.

I reluctantly sat. So far, nothing had happened that we couldn't walk back from, I hoped. Erin had always been dazzled by the rich and famous; unlike me, she grew up in the upper middle class, that razor-thin liminal space between comfort and true wealth. Her parents had always been disappointed that she'd married me; recently, I had started to think she felt the same.

I looked at the assembled throng and decided the best option was to simply cut straight through the bullshit. "What is this?"

And that's when he made his offer, the one that destroyed my life and decided his fate. I was stunned at first, unable to speak, but I'd always been quick witted. I recovered sooner than I think any of them expected, rapidly going on the offensive.

"Erin, what the hell is he talking about?"

She could barely look at me. "We've... I've enjoyed his company." Her gaze snapped back to me, mild panic on her face. "Only company! We've talked and had dinners together, all of us. Once or twice lunch with just me and him when... well, when Mr. Elgin was called away suddenly."

Quick witted or no, I couldn't hide the disbelief and hurt in my voice. "You-- you planned this? This isn't... he didn't just approach you about it when we were here?"

"No." She was quiet. "He said it would be an adventure, and that you'd be well cared for. We're... honey, I turned thirty this year, and you're thirty one. We're going to start trying for kids soon! I love you, but this might be the last real adventure, the last crazy bedroom adventure we have."

"Yeah. Yeah, it will be." I couldn't stand to look at her.

"No, please! Don't be like that! Simon has told me how amazing Grace is, and if... I'll only spend one night with him, I promise, but if you want to take the whole week to be with her, that's fine. I know I've ambushed you, but I knew that--"

I exploded, "Yeah, you knew! Knew I wouldn't be down for this fucked up bullshit, which is why you waited 'til I was trapped here to bring it up!" I looked at Richards. "Fuck you, Robert Redford. No dice. I'm not playing. My vows actually mean something to me."

His face was placid. "Which is why I'm offering you half a million dollars, Adam. Think about it: you could write your own ticket. Pay off your house, all your debts, start working on that novel Erin tells me you've always wanted to write. A detective story, she says. I've always loved the old Christie novels, what about--"

"Fuck you, you goddamned sociopath. I'm not comparing literary influences with you."

The douchebag shrugged. "As you wish. I don't want any hard feelings about this, and I understand you're upset. But think about the benefits, beyond the money: Grace is an exquisitely skilled lover, I assure you. And I am..." Richards tried for a disarming smile; he was lucky I didn't have a weapon, because I'd have been glad to give it to him.

"Well, I don't want to brag. But when you reclaim Erin, I'm sure you'll find her to be quite substantially improved as a lover. And if you combine that with the love that you two have, the connection that--" He stroked her cheek, and I almost dove across the table at him. "-- that I wish I were lucky enough to have, you'll be so very happy together for the rest of your lives."

"Erin, if you don't want a divorce, you're going to get up and walk out of here with me right now. It might still happen; this is-- Fuck, Erin. I don't know what the hell you're thinking right now. But I'm giving you a chance to at least try to stay together." I was begging, and I knew it. I could tell from the look on her face that I might as well be talking to a stone.

My wife put her hand on Richards'. "Adam, please. It's going to be okay. It's one night, and then we have the rest of our lives. If..." She flashed a naughty little smile; it made me want to vomit. "If you'd like, I could join you and Grace for the rest of the week after tonight. She can show me the best ways to please you; I'll devote myself to that for the rest of my life, lover. I--"

I snarled. "Don't call me that. There's no love here."

Erin's face grew stern, with just a hint of sadness. "Fine." She stood up, and Richards rose with her. "This is happening. It's too good of an opportunity, financially, to just pass up. I'm sorry you're upset by it. I meant everything I said; I love you, and I want you to have a good time with Grace, and I'd love to learn everything I can from her. I'll be everything you ever wanted, Adam."

"You already are. Please don't do this."

She sighed sadly, then turned to leave. I stood, but then I heard Tiny coming up behind me. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stay here." Grace put her hand on mine, and I jerked away. Shrugging, she folded her arms. She was getting paid no matter what happened, I assumed.

And then they were gone, Whippet following behind, just in case Tiny somehow couldn't stop me. But I wasn't going to get into a fistfight over her. It's amazing how quickly love can turn to hate.

Erin's boss said, "Adam, I understand that you're upset. But you'll be well compensated, and I'll make sure that Erin is moved to a management position. Everybody can win here if you'll just--"

"If you say another word, I'll break your fucking neck. Fezzik here won't reach me before I get to you, if he even cares." There was no movement behind me, confirming my assessment.

The rich bastard turned several shades of red, before finally closing his mouth and leaving with his wife. I heard a small chuckle from Tiny. "What?"

He rumbled, "Fezzik. I like that, man. Princess Bride is dope."

I looked at the high priced whore next to me. "Why are you still here?"

"You'll see."

As I turned to leave, Tiny blocked me. "Can't let you go, man. Sorry."

"I don't give a shit about her now. My wife is fucking your boss; she's dead to me. I'm just going to go pack."

He shook his head. "Ain't no point. Nothing's leaving here 'til tomorrow anyways. And--" He inclined his head conspiratorially. "Look, things ain't what they seem. Not supposed to say nothing, but you seem solid. Just give me half an hour, okay? Then I'll go help you pack myself."

"Things aren't what they--" He mimed zipping his lips, and I knew I wasn't going to get anything else out of him.

Fuck it. There was booze and steak. I'd probably vomit it all up in an hour, once everything really hit me, but if you grow up poor, you know to not skip a meal when you can avoid it. And, true to his word, within half an hour things did start to become clearer.

"Ah, Adam. I see you chose not to avail yourself of Grace." Richards strolled back into the room, a knowing smile on his face. "Good, good. Man of integrity. I appreciate that."

"Done with the slut already? You a two pump chump?"

Grace stood and went to Richards, hanging off of him as she kissed his neck. He chuckled and shooed her away. As she left the room, he sat opposite me. "You are, understandably, very angry with me right now. I don't blame you in the slightest. But, if it helps, I didn't sleep with your wife, and I won't."

"... What?"

With a tone that implied I was an idiot, he said, "Adam, I have women like Grace available to me. I have two more, just like her, awaiting me in my suite right now. I have no interest in... well, I don't mean to be rude. Erin does seem like a lovely woman, physically. But sexually, she's a bit pedestrian for me, I'm afraid."

Part of me wanted to defend my wife, a vestigial response that seemed foolish even then. Another wanted to flatten the smug sonuvabitch just for being so insufferable and take my chances with Tiny. But a third part could only stare and ask again. "... What?"

One thing I've learned as a reporter: people love to tell their stories. If you get them started, they'll tell you their whole life. So I let him talk.

"I know how you felt half an hour ago, because I've sat where you are right now. I was younger than you, only 25. I'd been married a couple of years to my college sweetheart, and I was a rising star, a wunderkind at the financial firm where I worked. My company was purchased, like your wife's was, and one of the new owners took a liking to my Lori.

"He invited us, myself, my bosses, and Lori, to his private island. The other spouses, I was told, would be there as well, but it had been a setup. The new owner and the management prevailed upon Lori, told her my place at the firm would be assured, that I'd be given a huge raise and promotion, and that I'd receive a bonus; only two hundred thousand, but..." He shrugged. "Inflation. Twenty odd years ago. Different times."

Richards sneered, "She was swayed by their entreaties. I was, of course, sent away as the bastard wined and dined her, first to 'planning meetings' and then to golf or yacht with my bosses. I could hardly turn those down, and although I wanted to bring Lori with me, I was told that it was supposed to be a boys' club sort of thing.

"When I came back from boating on the third night, they were sitting together, as I was with Erin. I was told that she'd accepted the offer. My wife tried to tell me that it was for us, for me. The new owner plied me with a pair of escorts, and Lori told me... well, much what Erin told you." He shrugged. "I protested, she accepted regardless, and my marriage ended."

He steepled his fingers. "I came to understand that this was a fairly common game among the very wealthy. The script rarely changes in major ways; only minor variations here and there. The husband and wife accept, most commonly, or at least deal with what happens. They both live a week of debauchery and move on as best they can. Or the husband, a man of integrity like yourself or myself, decides he can't deal with his wife's betrayal.

"Sometimes, the wife is used roughly and hates it; sometimes she is used roughly and loves it. I've heard tell, once or twice, of the wealthy man falling in love with the wife, or of a wealthy woman wooing the wife or husband instead. The drama is the thing, not the outcome; when you reach a certain level of wealth, money is only a way of keeping score, and the taking of intangibles like love or loyalty or the future becomes the new pursuit."

Richards poured a glass of scotch for himself, then gestured with the bottle to me. I ignored him, and he shrugged. "I've always tried to be a disruptor, Mr. Baker, even before that term became en vogue. It's how I made my money, both before and after my severance from the firm that destroyed my marriage. I figured out the intricacies of day trading before most people even knew it existed, realized how to quickly amass wealth through it. How to leverage it. When to get into and out of the market, as bubbles inflated and popped."

His free hand waved vaguely. "This island? This is the island that saw the end of my marriage. I destroyed the man that seduced my wife. Drove him to bankruptcy and suicide, along with all of the other old money fools that collaborated with him. This island has seen the end of many marriages, often at my hand.

"But what they did in cruelty, I do as a sort of philanthropy. I'm attempting to disrupt this game, to turn it to good ends. They looked for women that were seemingly incorruptible and corrupted them. I look for women that are needy. Covetous. Women that look at their lives, the ones they should be happy in, and still need more. Some need a tiny bit of convincing, but I barely exerted an effort with Erin, if I'm being honest."

I ground my teeth together. "I'm sorry, I know that seems hurtful. It's not intended to be, only truthful. But I have done you a favor, Adam, whether you see it right now or not. She would have left you eventually, for the first man at her firm that decided she was worth taking on as a trophy wife. I've done this dozens of times, and there's one at every company like Erin. Sometimes more."

Richards sighed. "I know this is cold comfort, but you're young. I got out of my marriage when I found my wife was like yours. Once my head was on straight again, along with wanting to destroy the men who had done this to me, I wanted to help the men who were trapped, unknowingly, in marriages that were ticking time bombs.

"I also wanted to reward virtue, Adam. When I began playing my version of the game, I made sure that was a core principle of it. If both spouses accepted my offer, they were paid exactly as described; I expect they generally tore themselves apart after a few years anyways, as they both had that covetous spark that would make any amount of money not quite enough.

"If the wife went off but the husband didn't, it almost always meant divorce. Given that I never actually spent the night with the wife in those cases, along with the fact that this was a purely verbal agreement, on an island of dubious territorial disposition..." He waved his hand dismissively. "You understand. There's no way to enforce it, not really. So I give all the money to the husband instead. After the divorce, of course, to avoid forfeiture. The wife will be given a consolation prize of a small bonus, a promotion, and a raise to keep her quiet, but, no, she won't get the big payout she had hoped for."

He chuckled. "You've passed the test, by the way. You're getting the money. If you want to go fuck Grace, or, hell, fuck Grace and Charity and Faith together in my suite, you're welcome to. A sort of victory lap, if you so desire." My face betrayed my rage. "No? I understand, it's too soon. Well, the offer stands while you're here. Do you have any questions?"

I did. A lot of them. But I also already had an idea of what I was going to do, and how I was going to do it. I'm one of a dying breed, an investigative reporter, and I wanted to do my own research, so that I didn't tip my hand. I resolved to only ask him the questions that he alone could answer.

Struggling to keep my temper under control, I grumbled, "Where's Erin?"

"Ah." He made a slight grimace. "She's with Duncan right now, the member of my security team that left with us. I told her that I sometimes prefer to watch for a while from my office before joining in, and Duncan has certain rough charms that many women find irresistible." He spread his hands. "As I said before, Adam. Only the slightest effort."

The look on his face was disgusting. The fucker expected me to be grateful.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out. When I opened them again, I was clear. "What do you do if the husband's on board, but the wife changes her mind? Or if neither of them is?"

Richards shrugged. "The former has never come up, and the latter... " He glanced to the side. "Only once. I was generous to both of them; they named their first child after me. That was early, though, and the only time I ever chose poorly."

"How soon can I leave?"

He shrugged. "As soon as tonight, if you'd like. I can have a helicopter pick you up. But I implore you, Adam. There are so many delights on this island, and not just of the carnal variety; I understand your reluctance there, although I'd urge you to reconsider. But there are also--"