Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the lengthy delay between chapters. It has been difficult recently to find enough time to write, and the story is at a key juncture. I wanted to make sure that I continue to do justice to these characters and the plot. Hopefully you'll find this was worth the wait. There is definitely a lot more to come!
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The girls' point incentive system had a hugely positive effect on me and all of us. I had reached a place where PT was giving me less return for my time. That is, I had recovered to about ninety percent of my prior functionality, and now I would have to put in more time to push myself toward full recovery. My doctors were happy with the progress, and they told me it had been remarkable and quick. It was roughly four months since the fateful day, and if it took me another two months to put all of it behind me? That seemed like nothing at this point.
So, more and more on a daily basis, we just lived our lives. And we had some important goals we were striving for. Those goals were made all the easier because our financial means seemed to take a leap every few days. I had a hard time keeping my head on straight as the money flowed in. As a result, Jess and I got seriously into preparations for the "air and sea" expansion of her adult empire.
I was greatly surprised by how many options and how easy it was to find sizable private jets and yachts that suited our purposes. There was an endless trough of Boeing business jets available. The challenge, however, was finding one that was laid out how we wanted. Jess was very particular in her desires. Most of them were set up with one or two bedrooms. She insisted on three. Jess believed the ability to have three couples fucking in privacy was critical mass to make Mile High Airlines come to fruition. I wasn't about to doubt her. So we decided we had to be open to retrofitting the interior, if necessary. It would add cost, but that was pretty much a rounding error in the grand scheme of things.
The yachts were fairly straightforward. Almost immediately, Jess fell in love with one that was seventy-five meters long, had twelve en suite staterooms, three decks, a movie theater, plenty of social space, formal dining room, swimming pool, hot tub, and even a helipad. It was a monstrous expense, but still a deal, apparently, at $100 million.
"Fuck it, let's do it," I told Jess, who was standing across the center island in our kitchen, holding a steaming cup of coffee.
"I mean, it looks like we're getting about twelve-million off the market price," Jess said. The excitement built in her eyes. "But this is a lot of money, baby."
"It is," I said, smiling at her.
I took a sip of my coffee and savored it. We had gone through this conversation last night but agreed to sleep on it. I didn't see any reason why our reasoned conclusion would change. This wasn't a flippant decision. I had discussed it at length with our finance team. It was a daunting amount of money, but it also was increasingly a less important amount given our new situation. I would open my banking apps every day and stare at them, blinking, reminding myself that this was all real. So talking about buying a superyacht? In the big picture, it was no big deal for us.
"I really want it," Jess said like a kid writing out her Christmas list.
"That's why we're going to do it," I said.
"This is crazy," she said, grinning and then blowing on her steaming coffee. "Isn't it crazy?"
"It is," I said and put my mug down so I could wrap my arms around her. "But what do you expect from us?"
"I just, I don't know, I get a little light-headed thinking about it!" she exclaimed.
"I'll go into the office this morning," I said. "Get it all in motion. We should have this taken care of by the end of the week."
"Have what taken care of?" Rita said, wiping the sleep from her eyes and shaking out her hair as she joined us in the kitchen.
"One if by air, two if by sea?" Jess said with a chuckle.
"Wow," Rita said, grabbing a coffee mug from the cupboard and in doing so showing she wasn't wearing panties under the t-shirt she slept in. "That's moving fast."
"When I know what I want, I don't feel like it should wait," Jess said.
"I couldn't agree more," Rita echoed, pouring a cup of coffee.
Of course, securing a jet and a yacht wasn't going to be that simple. At least I had good lawyers who would do the heavy lifting for me. And one of the good things about lawyers when you were throwing money around was that they would pretty much do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. So if I told them to get this wrapped up in a week or two? They'd make sure it got done. That's what I paid them for.
So my trip to the office wasn't really necessary, but I had some other things to do that day that got me out of the house. I pushed my PT to the afternoon so I could take care of them. The girls were keen on my plans, too.
"Are you nervous?" Jess asked me as I got ready to head out the door.
"Who, me?" I said, shrugging my shoulders.
"Come on, John," Rita said. "Old Katie wouldn't ask you to lunch if she didn't have something she wanted to talk to you about."
"Honestly," I said, feeling the knot form in my stomach, "I don't know. Maybe it's about London's graduation party."
"She needs to tell you that in person?" Jess said.
"Yeah," Rita chimed in. "We already got the invitation and RSVP'd."
"I think she wants your dick," Kat said, surprising us as she moved into the kitchen with Katie. They were dressed for tennis and looked delicious.
"She should," Katie teased.
"I don't know about that," I said. "It seems like a bad idea to mess with the past like that. I'm not sure how the Fates would like it."
"Don't you kind of owe her a good fuck for how much she helped us with security and other stuff?" Kat offered.
"This is such an odd conversation to be having," I said, a traditional morality suddenly gripping my brain. It was a weird feeling.
"Come on, we always talk about who to fuck," Jess said, her eyes dancing.
"Is it okay to play tennis stoned?" Katie said with a nervous laugh.
"Everything is okay stoned," Kat said with a giggle.
"Wanna blow this J with me before we go?" Katie asked.
Kat laughed again and said, "Hey, might as well. One smoke won't kill us!"
She and Katie went out toward the pool deck, joint and lighter in hand. But Jess and Rita just drank their coffee and stared at me.
"You better tell us what happens," Rita said.
"Every detail," Jess added.
I glanced at my watch.
"Well, if I don't get going, there won't be anything to tell because I'll miss her!" I said.
And off I went. I piled into the G-Wagon, which gave me a maybe false sense of security, but I liked the size and tank-like feel. It did make me feel safe. So I felt pretty good as I backed down the drive and headed for West Hollywood, where Old Katie's office was.
But I had a pit stop to make first, one I hadn't told the girls about. They would love hearing about it later, though. As it happened, the route to WeHo wound its way conveniently near Jason's house. Although Jason was at the office with Petey, I figured Crystal or Bianka or both would be home. And I wanted to take advantage of the "free use" privileges I retained but hadn't used -- or abused -- as much as I should.
I stopped the G-Wagon at the front gate. This was one time I was a little disappointed in our extra security measures. They were necessary and unavoidable, but it would dampen the element of surprise here. Despite that, I couldn't help but smile at the gushing, unbridled surprise and enthusiasm that permeated Crystal's voice when she got the notice that someone was at the gate. She could see me through the camera.
