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Except there was one key difference between Pierce and James: I knew for a fact that Pierce wanted to fuck me. That desire was written in ink and notarized.
Then what the hell was Pierce doing?
One thought came to me while falling asleep that night: maybe he really wasn’t interested in sex. Maybe he genuinely believed that natural conception was the ideal way for a child to be created. In that context, he might have seen sex with me as a chore.
I didn’t like thinking of it that way, so I quickly dismissed it. But the idea stuck around in the back of my head long after I had turned out the lights.
Tristan accompanied Pierce to each of the meetings, but Andrew was hit-or-miss. While one of these meetings was going on in the study, I walked down to the beach with a towel and my Kindle. To my surprise, Andrew was already down there, sitting with a chair up near the water. The surf was gently rolling across his ankles while he read a paperback book.
“Nothing to do?” I asked.
Andrew marked his place with a finger and lowered the book, smiling warmly at me. “Not when Pierce is with the investors.”
I dragged a second chair over to the surf next to his and sat down. “But I’ve seen you around them. Helping and stuff.”
“I usually help prepare for the meeting, and then at the beginning. After that my services are no longer required.”
“Okay, so help me out. What exactly does a valet do?” I pronounced it the way he had done, with a hard-T sound.
“It’s basically a manservant,” he explained. “Tristan is his personal assistant, which means he handles all the business-related things. As a valet, I handle all of Pierce’s personal things. I choose his outfits every day. I make sure they are clean, pressed, and laid out for him. I know all of his food requirements: an espresso at five, eight, and eleven o’clock. A bottle of electrolyte mix prior to his morning workout, and a shaker of protein powder after. I ensure his meals are satisfactory. That kind of thing.”
“Don’t the chefs do all of that? You guys have a small army in your kitchens, both on the Bellerophon and on the island.”
Andrew smiled. “The chefs make the food. I make sure it’s up to Pierce’s standards. I also oversee the purchase, and delivery, of all supplies. We had a dedicated manager for a year, but their standards were… lacking. I also choreograph the timing of all meals and personal activities to ensure Pierce doesn’t have to wait. Basically, I’m the grease that smooths out every non-business interaction Pierce has during the day. And some of the business interactions, too.”
I paused while a wave washed up the shore, surging across my feet and then receding again. The water was cool, but not cold. “I don’t want to say anything that might offend you…”
“But you’re going to power through anyway?”
“…your job seems kind of pointless,” I said. “You save Pierce, what, a few minutes a day?”
“Pierce’s time is extremely valuable,” Andrew said.
“You’re the second person to remind me of that in the past day,” I muttered.
“If I can save him a few minutes per day, that’s worth it. Those minutes add up. You’d be surprised how efficient his day runs thanks to me.”
I pictured Pierce on the Bellerophon during the trip down here, lounging out in the sun and doing nothing. In that context, I wasn’t buying Andrew’s argument about saving a few minutes per day.
Whatever. Billionaires had more money than sense.
“So what’s with all of these meetings?” I asked as the helicopter took off from the mansion, taking the most recent investors back to San Jose. “Is Pierce collecting funding for his next big project?”
“Something like that.”
I leaned in close. Close enough to smell Andrew’s banana-scented sunscreen. “What’s he working on?”
“Afraid I can’t tell you.”
“Aw, come on. Give me a hint.”
“Sorry.”
“Nanobots?” I tried. “Artificial intelligence?”
“My lips are sealed.”
“Your eye twitched when I mentioned AI,” I said, pointing at him. “It’s totally AI, isn’t it? Everything big is related to AI right now. I figured it out, didn’t I? Tell me!”
