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“If you want to watch something else, just let me know,” Pierce offered as I took one of the recliners, leaving an empty seat between me and the billionaire.
“I’m fine with whatever you’re watching.” I looked at the projection screen. “Is that Jodie Foster?”
“It’s the new season of True Detective,” Andrew explained. “We just started it.”
“Can I see this if I haven’t watched any of the previous seasons?”
Both of them turned their heads toward me. “You haven’t seen any of them?” Pierce asked.
“Not even season one, with Matthew McConaughey and Woody Harrelson?” Andrew added.
“I don’t have HBO,” I replied.
“Fortunately, you don’t need to watch the older seasons,” Pierce explained. “Each season is standalone. But you still need to go back and watch the first season.”
“It’s really good,” Andrew said.
“You had me at McConaughey,” I said. “I’d be content watching him read the dictionary for an hour.”
“I can arrange that,” Pierce said casually. “Matthew is a friend.”
“No he’s not,” I blurted out. “Is he?”
Pierce shrugged. Andrew smiled and turned his attention back to the screen.
The ten days at sea passed like that. I relaxed during the day, ate amazing food, and watched TV with Pierce in the evenings. He never made a move on me, and I felt my defenses beginning to lower. I actually started feeling comfortable around Pierce—or at least, as comfortable as someone could be around a man who was worth more than most of the Caribbean countries we were sailing past on our trip south.
Overall, it was a relaxing trip. It felt like a vacation at my own private resort.
On the morning of the tenth day, I woke up and opened the curtains in my room. I was greeted by an unexpected surprise: instead of endless ocean, a tropical island filled my view. Vibrant colors popped out as we drifted along: turquoise water, yellow beach, lively jungle greens, and a perfect blue sky above it all. But the island looked deserted.
By the time I got dressed and went up to the lounge deck, we were pulling into an isolated cove with calmer water. There I saw our true destination: a marble-white mansion, tiered like a wedding cake, that rose from the beach up into the foothills of the island mountains. There was a dock, although it appeared much too small for the yacht.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“That is the proper reaction,” Tristan said next to me. He smiled while staring out at the island. “In fact, it is the same reaction I have every time we return here. The island is quite special.”
“Wasn’t the Jurassic Park island off the coast of Costa Rica?” I wondered out loud. “There aren’t, like, dinosaurs here, right?”
For the first time since I had joined the Bellerophon, Tristan laughed. “No, there are no dinosaurs here.” His blue-gray eyes cut over to me. “But there are spiders, snakes, scorpions, fire ants…”
“Scorpions? Those are only in the desert,” I argued.
Tristan shrugged. “If you say so.”
As I suspected, the yacht was too large for the dock. The yacht remained in the center of the cove while we boarded a smaller craft that took us to the island. Another boat was already docked there; unlike the yacht and craft that brought us inland, it appeared to be local. Several shirtless men were carrying boxes of goods from the boat up to the mansion.
Those men all immediately set down their crates of goods and stood politely while we disembarked onto the dock. Some of them cast their eyes downward, but others nodded politely. Pierce paused in front of one of the men, who had a round belly and thin gray hair. Pierce spoke to him in Spanish, and the man laughed and gave him a fist-bump.
Okay, so he gets along with all the servants. That doesn’t mean he’s a good guy.
When I was in high school, my parents took me and my sister to an all-inclusive resort in Cabo. Dad was one of the top salesmen of the year, so it was all paid for by his company. When we arrived to that resort, drinks were handed out as soon as we arrived—although my sister and I weren’t old enough to drink. Employees were everywhere, constantly asking if we needed anything. When we ordered room service, four employees arrived to deliver it. It was a core memory for me, a taste of true luxury.
Pierce’s private island was like that, but dialed up to 11. Five servants dressed in white stood waiting outside the door to the mansion, and five more waited inside. A woman with a tray offered me champagne, a rum-based mixed drink, and beer—and she was sure to mention that the bar could make me anything else I desired. I accepted a champagne and admired the mansion’s tall ceilings, sprawling windows, and airy feel.
We were outnumbered by servants five-to-one. And unlike the resort in Cabo, there was nobody else here. Everyone was excited to please Pierce Benning…
…and, by extension, me.
