Around the World in 80 Lays - The Orient Express
Anna and I approached the side door to the brothel owned by Althea. I rang the bell and seconds later, Hector opened the door. His face broke into a wide grin when he saw us. Stepping in, Hector and I shook hands, and he gave a hug to Anna.
"Althea is in her office. She is expecting you, I think."
I knew she was expecting us. I had called her earlier that morning to make sure she would be in her office this morning. Anna's experience in the window at the brothel was two days ago. She and I had spent a day just relaxing at the hotel.
Althea was behind her chrome and glass desk. Coming around, she gave me the requisite kisses on each cheek and then hugged Anna tightly. Beckoning us to sit, she joined us at the table in her office. I didn't wait and jumped in.
"Althea, I just wanted to come by and say thank you again to you and to your staff for all your help. You gave Anna and I a tremendous memory to take with us as we go on our way on our tour."
Althea beamed.
"It was definitely a pleasure for all of us. The girls and the staff are still talking about that night. Most are amazed at how far you would go, Dustin, to create such an intense and satisfying fantasy. You have become a legend among the other girls, I am afraid. Everyone woman wants a man who treats her like you treat Anna."
I saw Anna blush at Althea's words. Before I couple speak again, Anna was talking.
"Oh, Althea. It was so arousing and fun. I didn't think I could get into that window, but when I did, it was such a turn on. And when Jacques told me to go upstairs with Sven, I nearly bolted. But then, I thought about Dustin and I knew he wouldn't put me in that kind of situation. Still, I was completely flabbergasted when I found him in that room. It's a memory I will always cherish."
Althea looked at Anna and I saw her eyes twinkle a bit.
"Have you given a thought to coming back and going to the next level. Your license is good for a year. I can get you in the rotation tonight if you are interested."
I watched Anna when I realized what Althea was asking. She didn't hesitate.
"No. I really have no desire to go any further with this fantasy. I appreciate the offer, but the only man I want to be with is Dustin."
Althea chuckled.
"I would have been a 1000 Euro's that would be your answer. Well. If you change your mind, you are always welcome."
Turning to me, Althea continued.
"Where are you headed next?"
"I think Paris. I haven't checked on flights or hotels yet. I will talk to the concierge at the hotel when we get back."
Althea thought a moment.
"Ask them to check on the Orient Express. There is a new route that runs from Amsterdam to Paris once every couple of days. It would be a great experience which is much more interesting than an airplane. It does take two days, but I get the feeling time is not a factor in your plans."
I laughed.
"You're right. Time is probably last on our priority list. And taking the train does sound fun and exciting. I will have the concierge check."
We continued to chat for several more minutes. I knew Althea had other matters on her schedule, so Anna and I said goodbye. On our way out, we spoke to Jacques and Hector, thanking them for their help and friendship. I think I actually saw Hector shed a tear as we were leaving.
We stopped for lunch on the way back to the hotel. Once we were back, I visited the concierge desk and talked about our travel plans. When I mentioned the Orient Express, she got excited, promising to get all the relevant information and schedules for me.
Back in our room, Anna and I discussed our options. We agreed that Paris was next on the list, and had decided that there was so much to do and see in and around Paris that we would probably be there more than a month. I called the concierge and asked if she could make some inquiries about finding us a flat or apartment with a short-term lease. With that done, Anna and I headed to the pool to relax.
Two days later, I was standing on the platform looking at the gleaming train cars of the Orient Express. I had learned that these train cars are original vintage cars from the heyday of rail travel in Europe that had been loving restored to their original glory. The concierge at the hotel in Amsterdam had come through with spades. We had tickets on the Orient Express for Paris, reservations for two days and nights at a luxury hotel, and an appointment with a rental agent to look at several apartments that offered short-term rentals.
The Concierge had also made arrangements to ship the majority of our large luggage ahead of our train trip, lessening the burden on us to manhandle the bags. We each carried a small suitcase and a garment bag. The garment bag held our clothing for the two-day trip, which would require two evenings on the train. We learned that the first afternoon would be a mixer of sorts in the club car, giving the stewards time to prepare our suites on the train. That evening would be dinner in the dining car, which, we were told, would be formal.
The next day we would have breakfast, and the guidebook we were given explained that this meal was casual. Our concierge explained that casual meant business casual and we should plan accordingly. The rest of the day was open, giving us an opportunity to enjoy the amenities of the Orient Express, including the observation car, the club car, lounge, and the smoking car. Dinner that night was again a formal affair, with drinks before in the club car and the lounge open all night for those who wished to make every moment count.
We would arrive in Paris mid-morning, disembark, and the shuttle would take us to our hotel. It sounded like an extremely intense two days. I wasn't sure how well I would hold up having to be in formal attire at least half the time were on the train, but I promised Anna to do my best. The others with reservations stood around the platform. I observed that they were mostly couples. Only one man stood apart by himself.
In a few moments until the conductor stepped down from the car closest to us and put down his step stool. He announced that the Orient Express to Paris was now boarding. People moved toward the door where the conductor stood. As Anna and I approached, the single man stepped in behind us. Once we were checked in, we found that we had boarded in the club car. The bar was open and most of the riders were availing themselves of the first round of wine and champagne. Anna and I did the same, opting for a flute of champagne to toast our next adventure. The conversations were somewhat muted as everyone seemed to be sizing up the rest of the small group that would be our companions for the next two days.
I felt someone step to my left and turned to find the single man. He was dressed in what appeared to be an expensive tailored business suit. He stood a little taller than me, perhaps 6'1 or 2". His hand was out to shake mine, and he held a flute of champagne in his left hand. He was smiling, but the overall impression I got from looking at his eyes, his smile, and his posture was that something wasn't quite right. I took his hand and his grip reinforced my feelings immediately. It was a weak handshake that left me with the impression that he had no respect for me.
"Hello, I am Boris Isaac Carl Von Ritter."
I looked at the pompous ass, trying to feign interest.
"Dustin Prescott."
"Ah. You are an American."
"Yes. This is my wife, Anna."
I watched as Isaac Carl Von RItter's eyes moved up and down Anna with a definitive predator look. Von Ritter took her offered hand, touching his lips lightly to the back of her hand, and looked directly into her eyes. His voice dropped an octave, and he continued to hold her hand as he spoke.
"It is my pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman on this trip. All too often, the ladies on the train are mature and, shall I be polite, not nearly as attractive and young."
"Thank you."
I nearly rolled my eyes as I saw Anna breathe in sharply. This guy was smooth and, I surmised, had already decided who his target would be for the next two days.
Mr. Von Ritter, do you travel on this train regularly?"
He never took his eyes off Anna's as he spoke to me. He also didn't release her hand.
"Occasionally. Two or three times a year."
He spoke to Anna again.
"You aren't American. Your accent is a bit confusing. I thought at first you might be British, but I heard something else. New Zealand?"
Anna giggled like a teenage girl.
"Oh yes. I spent most of my adult life in the UK but was raised in New Zealand. It makes for a rather confusing accent."
"It is charming and makes you that much more alluring."
Anna blushed. I rolled my eyes but no one seemed to notice.
I tipped my champagne flute and emptied it.
"Anna, would you like another glass of champagne?"
I saw her glance in my direction and hold her half-empty glass toward me.
"Please get me a fresh one. This one has gotten warm."
I took her glass and as I started to turn toward the bar, I heard Von RItter's voice."
"If you are going that way, get me another as well."
I looked at him. It was said almost in the tone you would use with a servant. Silently, I took his glass and walked toward the bar.
I set the three empty flutes on the tray with several other near-empty glasses and looked at the steward.
"Three more, please."
He nodded, filled three more glasses, and set them on the bar. I dropped a 10 Euro note in the tip jar and saw his face change. For the first time, I saw a smile.
"Thank you, Sir."
"You welcome."
I looked at the tip jar and saw that my bill was the only one in the jar. That seemed strange given how much this trip cost. The well-to-do travelers on the Orient Express didn't tip well.
"You don't seem too busy based on the tip jar?"
His face frowned.
"The people who travel on this train tend to be wealthy, and very tight. I could easily make better tips tending bar at one of the cafés in Paris."
"Really? Then why don't you."
"The hours are better here, and it's not as strenuous or stressful. The pay is ok, but the tips are woeful."
I nodded, getting a new appreciation for the clientele of the Orient Express. I reached into my pocket and dropped another ten into the jar. The man smiled as he spoke.
"That isn't necessary, Sir."
"My name is Dustin and I think it is necessary. You seem to be the first person in this room that is human. Everyone else I have spoken to has been almost disdainful toward me."
The barman looked around and then leaned forward to speak quietly.
"Well. You are an American, which most of these people consider to be second-class. You must have money to afford this trip, but you aren't in their class. I am afraid you are going to have a rather cold trip."
I chuckled.
"You are mostly right. I was a working stiff just like you until a year ago, when I won the largest lottery in the US. Honestly, I would rather spend my time talking to you than to most of these stiff-necked aristocrats."
