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Tristan turned to Pierce and crossed his arms. “We need to get her back to the civilized world.”
I took the covered piece of bread and threw it overhand at Tristan. It hit him smack in the chest, leaving a creamy brown smear on his jacket, vest, and tie.
“I regret to inform you that I am retracting my previous statement,” he said dryly. “I no longer have feelings for you.”
The rest of us laughed, and eventually Tristan joined in.
41
Melinda
Liquidating all of Pierce’s assets was a complicated matter. I realized this when a helicopter full of accountants and finance experts arrived on the Bellerophon with briefcases and overnight bags. They set up shop in the study, and were given beds in the spare rooms aboard the yacht. Apparently, they were going to be there a while.
While they worked, we sailed back down to Costa Rica. After being apart for three days, we all wanted to spend more time together. Yes, our relationship was still in that honeymoon phase where we couldn’t get enough of each other. Three days in that cabin by the lake felt like three weeks.
We ate amazing food, and had incredible sex three or four times a day. My libido was insatiable—one man wouldn’t have been able to keep up, but it was much easier with three to see to my sexual needs. And since we were trying to get pregnant, it felt like we were being productive rather than wasting our time in bed.
When the accountants were done, the numbers were staggering. Pierce was keeping around $50 million dollars worth of assets. That number shocked me until I realized it really was about five percent of his wealth. It turned out that a billion dollars was an insane amount of money.
Between that $50 million, and the residuals he would keep earning from his tech patents, it was more than enough to maintain a comfortable lifestyle.
He was keeping the Bellerophon, although the property taxes were significant. He also gave each member of the crew a massive seven-figure bonus. “I know this means I’ll lose a lot of you,” he said while addressing the crew in the dining room, “but I don’t care. I want all of you to be happy, even if that’s somewhere else.”
Funny enough, most of the crew agreed to stay employed. It reminded me of when Andrew once claimed he would keep working for Pierce even if he had enough money to retire. As it turned out, there were greater motivators in life than money. If you took care of your employees, rather than using them like property, they would love you.
The remaining ninety-five percent of Pierce Benning’s estate was to be divided up among over a hundred charities, funds, and foundations. There were large ones, like the American Red Cross and Doctors Without Borders, and smaller ones that I had never heard of. The list of beneficiaries was seventeen pages long. Single-spaced!
When we reached Pierce’s Costa Rican island, Tristan suggested an idea that was so devious I couldn’t help but laugh. I agreed to it immediately.
Pierce flew Robert Ethier and Robert Beschloss, the Bobs, down to the island. They arrived by helicopter in the evening, and were led out onto the terrace overlooking the bay. I waited out of sight, in the kitchen.
“Chocolate?” asked Alejandro, the chef. He held out a chocolate puff truffle on his palm while stirring a pot of soup with the other hand.
“Thanks!” I said, wolfing it down. I was starving.
“Chocolate?” he asked again, holding out a new truffle.
“If you keep doing this, I won’t be able to fit into this pencil skirt.” Despite my protest, I accepted it eagerly.
And then, a few moments later, his palm extended once more. “Chocolate?”
“Alejandro! That’s enough!”
“You try to make baby,” he said in heavily-accented English. “You need food. Calories. Make baby strong, like Mr. Benning.”
“I have to get pregnant first!” I protested.
He shrugged dramatically. “If you don’t tell, I don’t tell!”
Finally, my phone vibrated in my pocket. That was the signal text from Tristan. I left the kitchen and walked out to the edge of the Terrace, where I could overhear the conversation outside.
“We’re flattered you brought us all the way down here,” Bob Beschloss was saying. “Needless to say, we’re ready to sign the paperwork whenever you are.”
“Should we open a bottle of champagne?” Bob Ethier asked.
“Perhaps it is premature to celebrate,” Tristan said.
I could practically hear the Bobs frowning. “What do you mean?” Bob Ethier said.
