Chapter 4

It was almost twelve miles back up the coast from the pier to the marina, but those jet skis were no slouches and as long as we stayed outside the no wake zones, we could haul ass. It was pretty cool feeling Tiff pressed up against me, her arms around my waist as we jetted along.

When we turned in to come between Point Loma and Naval Air Station North Island, we had to slow because of the rules and other water traffic, so I didn’t even think twice when Tiff wanted to take the controls.

In fact, I think I liked putting my arms around her, my hand on her firm stomach, as we motored along. I could grow to enjoy that quite a bit!

The Naval Base at Point Loma was, in part, a submarine base so the last thing we wanted to do was mess around there, and we steered well clear of the anti-torpedo nets around the submarine docks but kept clear of the shoreline around the Naval Air Station on the other side as well.

We owned, we being my new real estate investment company with D&D management for the marinas, the Southwestern Yacht Club and all of its slips, plus the Kona Kai Marina across Shelter Island Cove, plus the yacht docks adjacent to the Kona Kai resort. We had purchased the Kona Kai properties a few months ago for a staggering two hundred and thirty-two million, but that meant we owned everything from the Tunaman’s Memorial south. Everything.

There were covenants with the city and the county about keeping the Pacific Rim Park open and the park around the Friendship Bell too. We even threw in a ninety-nine-year lease at a fixed rate for the San Diego Harbor Police Dock, as long as it stayed the San Diego Harbor Police Dock! If they tried to move some other department in there, the deal was off.

All in all, when you included the Yacht Club, the dozen homes and condos adjacent to the Yacht club, and our resort, the huge Marina and the land ... this little area was valued at north of a billion dollars. Our net income was projected to be in the hundred and seventy million range next year just for this area, exclusive of all other properties.

Tiff and I were in the lead, so I was riding with my chin on her shoulder and whispering in her ear, pointing the way over towards the Kona Kai resort. I had debated getting a room on shore, but with the Kona Kai staff making maid service available to the high rollers, it was just as comfortable on the boat. They didn’t know me from Adam, but I could get just about anything I wanted by calling Erin and having word passed down.

We pulled up to the resort’s yacht dock where they tied up the big boys. My pride and joy wasn’t the biggest boat in the dock either, just barely in the top five! There was one mega yacht, two hundred and fifty feet at least, one that was probably close to one-seventy and a pair of hundred and fifty footers. Then the demure and dainty E² snuggled up among her bigger brethren.

When I pointed to my baby, Tiff let off the throttle and turned and stared at me with suspicion.

“That one. With the three hulls. That’s your boat?”

“Yes, that is my baby. We sailed her from Galveston, through the canal, and up the coast.”

She shook her head, an odd expression on her face, and gave the jet ski a little gas again, bringing her expertly alongside the fantail. Dean and I hopped off and tied them up.

I gave Tiff a hand as Dean helped Kelly aboard. Kelly seemed excited and was hugging Dean’s arm, rubbing her breasts against him. Dean seemed enthralled with the little brunette.

Tiff, on the other hand, was standing there with her arms crossed in front of her chest, her demeanor a bit defensive. I backed off, stepping around her and then waving for her to follow me.

“This is the E Squared. My first boat was the Emancipation Key out of Key West and this one was the second boat I got, so the man who gave her to me named her the E Squared both as a tribute and a surprise.” I told her, and saw that Dean and Kelly were following along for the tour.

I took them up top first, showing them the flying bridge and the controls there. Then it was down to the upper deck where the indoor bridge was with its more impressive controls. The salon, my office and even out to the front of the boat so they could see the big hot tub.

Down to the main deck and the grand salon, the dining room and kitchen. Down one deck were the two smaller cabins that shared a head and the bigger, second master. Last was the master cabin and its opulent bath.

When they indicated they wanted to see it all, I took them below decks and showed them the crew quarters and mechanical spaces, laundry and so on.

Last, but not least, I showed them how the jet skis tucked away into the rear of the outriggers and how we had four Ruckus scooters aboard for short excursions.

We ended up back in the main salon where the bar was and I played bartender, if opening a bottle of wine and handing out a beer to Dean counted.

“Jack, why didn’t you tell Willy about this? You could have shut him up back there, kept him from being such an ass.” Tiffany seemed confused and a little distant.

“And what good would that have done? I would have looked like a douche too. ‘Ooh, I have a big boat, you know what they say about guys with big boats!‘ and then you would have left, and we wouldn’t be here now. Or are you saying you are attracted to only guys with big ... docks?”

She blushed and shook her head. “No, I mean, I thought you were cute and was flirting, then Willy’s Dad called and it seemed like you were something more, but I never ... I’m totally not like that.” She looked at me defiantly, but I just smiled.

“If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have brought you here no matter how sexy you are.”

Tiffany did the hair flip thing, but her teasing grin told me she was perfectly aware I was flirting and that she was not falling for it.

“Willy said your dad makes movies? Anything I would know?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Hell yeah!” Kelly pipped up, laughing. “He even got me on as an extra!” She spent several minutes listing movies the man had produced, and there were quite a few winners in there! Heck, as clueless as I was, I still recognized the name.

“So, are you going to be a big star? What about you, Tiff?”

“I wish, but I’ll have to settle for being a poor lawyer instead.” Kelly said, her lower lip pushed out but a gleam in her eye.

“Not me. I am getting my undergrad here because, hello? San Diego? But I will go north to Stanford for my MBA. I would love to make pictures, so I am going to work with Daddy behind the desk that’s behind the camera, as he puts it. What about you?”

“Hmm ... good question. I will probably end up going for my MBA as well, but mostly so I can make sure I am not getting cheated.” I said with a shrug. A thought occurred to me.

“Your dad ever work for Mort & Sylvia...”

“Greenbaum, of course he has. How do you know them?” Tiff asked, on her feet now.

“Well, they were all over Jake, that’s my adopted grandpa, I guess you could say. Mort and Sylvia grabbed him and Liz and they did one tour while Mike Sutter and his lady friend Annie Collins gave us a different tour. I got to meet Chloe Moretz, though I don’t think she cared too much for me.” I told her, grinning at the memory.

“Just be glad you aren’t that idiot who head-butted her on the lot. I heard he never got another part again!” Tiffany said with a laugh, turning to sit back at the bar. Something must have clued her in, maybe it was the lack of laughter at her joke or maybe it was something else. She sat down and spun her seat around to give me the hairy eyeball.

“No. Fucking. Way. You are so full of shit. That was just some extra or something, that’s what I heard from Lea ... oh shit.” She was shaking her head with her hand over her mouth.

“Did you have another person with you that day?” she asked, watching me closely.

“Deb was with us, right Dean? She’s the one who had the Lea girl’s arm twisted and why that idiot and his posse tried to play tough.”

“Oh yeah! That guy was a laugh riot. I seriously thought about breaking his wrist, but we were guests and it wouldn’t have made Mike or Annie happy.”

Tiffany had her head in her hands now, her shoulders shaking. For a moment I thought she might be crying but she lifted her head up again and let it out. She was crying alright, but only because she was laughing so hard tears were coming down her cheeks.

When things settled for a bit, she explained that Lea and she grew up together, they even started college together, but Lea got her big break, finally, in something other than a kiddie show, and became kind of a diva.

They still talked, but it was more like Lea talking and Tiffany listening. Over the last year or so, they had drifted even further apart, but she had been around when that whole thing happened. It was quite the little scandal for all of about three or four days.

“I totally remember that. Oh my god, I wish I still had her number. So, you were just visiting, not an extra or a hopeful. The whole Hollywood twenty-something set had you drawn and quartered, blackballed forever more from the scene.

“And you didn’t care, you didn’t even know you were a scandal, did you? That is hilarious!”

“If you don’t care about Hollywood and you have this big boat and lots of money, why are you going to college at all? Most trust fund kids are a bunch of partiers, frat boys and whatnot. You aren’t like that, I can tell.” Kelly asked quietly. She had pulled Dean down next to her on the lounge and was leaning up against him, one of his arms around her shoulders.

“Heck, who can you trust these days? I should just take their word for it that they are not robbing me blind? Besides just wanting to learn, to know, I want to protect myself. I have a lot of things going on. Sure, I guess I am sort of a trust fund kid, but I have dreams and none of them start with being broke or in rehab before I am twenty-five!”

“He funded more than a hundred and forty college scholarships this year alone; those are full ride scholarships, and in three countries. He won’t tell you, but I am proud to work for the guy.” Dean said, raising his beer. He probably shouldn’t have, but I gave him a long-distance tap with my own beer bottle.

“You work for him?” Tiffany asked, looking between Dean and me.

“Yep. I am second in command of his naval fleet and the guy who checks under the bed before he goes to sleep each night.” He said with a wicked grin.

He completely ignored me flipping him off, but Kelly caught it and giggled.

“He is my head of security, but a lot more. He’s my teacher and my sounding board, my mentor and my friend. He’s saved my life and that is no exaggeration.”

Kelly seemed impressed with him.

The next couple of hours were more relaxed and Tiffany seemed to feel like I could be trusted enough to snuggle a bit on the couch. Kelly and Dean had disappeared for a bit, Dean mumbling something about etchings or something. I didn’t even know he collected them.

Tiff and I sat and chatted, mostly, and I even stole a kiss or two. When it was time for them to go, they had to go get ready for the clubs, Tiffany made us promise we would be there. She gave me directions to the campus and the dorms and kissed me as they slid into the limo.

Party!

Dean and I were dressed and ready to go by six and the taxi arrived at a quarter after. The trip to the campus only took a half hour so we ended up a little early. The dorm building that Tiff had given me was not coed, so we had to check in with the desk in the lobby and be escorted if we wanted to go upstairs. Instead, when the woman behind the desk called, she was told that they would be right down.

Dean and I got to practice being meat in front of starving lions, or something like that anyway. There were fifteen or twenty women that either entered or left and I swear, each and every one of them slowed down to take a look! I was beginning to understand how a pretty girl felt walking into a club! Dean was just grinning at each of them, seemingly unperturbed.

“You know, if you two are lost, I would be glad to give you the grand tour.” A sultry voice caught our attention and, as we both turned to take in the tall, willowy brunette with the biggest tits I had ever seen on a woman. I am talking massive mammaries, humongous hooters, ginormous gazongas, a bountiful bonanza of beautiful breasts!

If I was a boob man, I probably would have been speechless and drooling on the toes of my loafers. Like Dean was. He was flabbergasted and his eyes were locked on her cleavage.

I rolled my eyes and gave Dean a nudge before replying to the woman.

“At any other time, I would love to watch my buddy make a fool of himself over a pretty lady, but we aren’t lost, just waiting for our dates.” I told her, grinning to show I appreciated the humor of the situation.

She looked surprised, but not at how Dean had reacted. She was looking at me, a speculative look in her eyes.

“But not you, huh? Not a breast man?” She asked, pushing her breasts out even further, her nipples both obviously pierced and holding barbells, were tenting the front of her industrial strength brassiere.

I shrugged and smiled. “What can I say? I like breasts just fine, every man, whether straight, gay or a eunuch will look given a chance, but I like a hard-body girl with muscled legs, a washboard stomach and a firm butt...” I trailed off with a wink, shrugging a second time.

“And that is why he is my date tonight.” Tiffany said from behind me, her arm going around my waist. Kelly was there, too, with Dean’s bicep securely nestled between her own, almost overflowing breastworks, a smug grin on her face.

“Stacy, what are you doing? It’s not enough that almost every man between four and a hundred and four is following you around campus?” Tiffany asked, her tone light a teasing. When the girl with the big breasts laughed and leaned over to exchange air kisses with Tiffany, I was pretty sure that this had been some kind of test.

“Yeah, but I had to come down and make sure they were good enough. Besides, you know I don’t swing that way. It’s handy to have guys drooling and offering me condos and cars, but when it comes to fun time, I am like Prince Charming here” she said, tossing her hair and gesturing to me. “I like a nice hard body with small hands.” She joked, leering at Tiff.

I had to laugh when Tiffany hid her hands behind her back. I wasn’t alone, it seemed half the building was there to watch the show. I had a feeling that this Stacy was quite the character and this was not the first time she had vamped at another girl’s date.

“He’s got your number, Tiff, barely glanced at the girls. His buddy, on the other hand, well ... we can see why he likes Kelly.” Stacy said, getting another round of laughter. Dean just shrugged and looked innocent.

“Wait, as oh-so-wrong as it sounds, I actually understand why Stacy likes women with small hands. Why do you like small hands?” She asked me, one eyebrow arched.

I held up one hand, my index and middle finger extended. Raising the other, I wrapped those two fingers in my fist. Everyone looked confused, but I wasn’t done. I reached down and pulled her hand up, squaring my shoulders and standing proud before wrapping her fist around my two fingers. When she saw me wagging my eyebrows at her and leering, she peered at me, then at my fingers, and I could see the moment when the light went on. She busted out laughing and threw her arms around my neck, giving me a very nice kiss.

Stacy and Kelly burst into laughter too and let me tell you, seeing that much cleavage quiver at once is a wonder to behold, even if you prefer smaller ones!

We managed to escape and the limos were waiting outside. We walked out of the building, followed by six other girls who were coming along, to find six guys waiting outside by the cars. There was a round of applause when we walked out and girls twirled and showed off a bit before pairing off with their dates. Willy was there, along with Timmy, his roommate and the third guy from this morning, but I hadn’t gotten his name.

Willy just nodded, but he was watching me pretty closely. I wondered if he had talked more with his father during the day? Whatever, he was just a frat boy trying to get laid, and I could understand that, even if his methods sucked.

We, the four of us, had our own limo while the others split up, three couples to each of the other cars. It was a forty minutes ride to the restaurant for the first stop on the party-girl tour.

The restaurant, Bang Bang, was definitely a party spot. Even though it was early, the place was already hopping with folks even waiting to get in. To get in, you had to traverse a tunneled staircase entrance that was styled to look like a Tokyo subway, complete to sound effects streaming through hidden speakers. The various rooms all had very different décor and styles, with one bar having a ceiling completely hidden by paper lanterns, while another club room looked like it was styled after a Sultan’s palace.

We had a special table set up for us and no fewer than four waiters hovering, waiting to fulfil Tiff’s every need. The food was ... okay. I imagine if I had already been drunk, it would have been better but, since I had decided to stay sober tonight, Dean as well based on the iced tea he ordered, I wasn’t all that impressed.

Tiffany, Kelly and her college friends, on the other hand, were well on their way to being plastered before dinner was done! Despite the offer of an elevated VIP booth and an intro to the DJ who was, evidently, famous for something, Tiff insisted we had reservations at Omnia and nothing would deter her. I didn’t care either way, I was just there to have fun, so we were on our way by nine-thirty.

Omnia is best described as what you get when you are a neon-gas sign maker whose displays are too bright, too intense and too garish for Las Vegas. You open a club in San Diego.

Okay, that was harsh, but Christ, you had to be drunk just to deal with the flashing lights and the music, it was so loud that it quickly became white noise punctuated by a thumping bass that rattled your fillings. I could watch the sound waves jiggle Kelly’s breasts like I was watching that cup of water in the first Jurassic Park.

Oh lawdy, the T-Rex, he’s coming!

After a half an hour, I was ready to call it quits and, after an hour, I decided I was leaving even if everyone else stayed. Luckily, I didn’t have to break up the party because Kelly was feeling it too. As Tiff’s best friend, her feeling sick was enough to see us settling the bill and bailing pretty quick. Tiff was sotted, but she wasn’t so drunk that she forgot who her friends were.

When we staggered outside, the cars were waiting and, after some drunken discussion, Tiff sent the other two cars off with the rest of the partiers, telling the cars to take them wherever they wanted to go for as long as was left on the clock. We, meaning Tiff, Kelly, Dean and I, took a drive down by the beaches.

Just getting out of the club had Kelly feeling a little better. She admitted that the sound had just hit her wrong, the bass beat making her stomach jump and, when you add in Tequila shooters, well, she had been looking a bit green.

Now, cruising in the back of the limo with the windows down, she was looking perky again. Enough so that when she saw a bonfire out on the beach, she begged Tiff to have the driver pull over.

“Come on, Tiff! I am from here, okay, Hollywood girl? Beach parties are the real parties and beach bonfires are the most fun you can have with your clothes on ... assuming they stay on, and then it is even more fun!

Tiff was giggling and leaning against me. She couldn’t even sit up straight, but she seemed like she wanted to keep partying. It was her birthday, and she was determined to make it memorable.

The limo pulled up to the parking lot closest to the beach where Dean and I convinced the ladies to remove their shoes and leave them. Dean and I did the same, of course. No way I was wearing a pair of loafers down the beach and Tiff’s high heels were an even worse choice.

The bonfire was less what I thought of as a bonfire and more a carefully controlled burn, managed by a park employee with plenty of fire suppression and a clear list of rules and regulations the partygoers had to abide by. Yeah, California had managed to ruin even that. They even regulated the type of wood that could be used, limiting it to harvested deadwood and banning any wood that had been processed or treated.

I honestly could not roll my eyes hard enough to encompass the amount of ‘what the fuck’ I was feeling at learning all of this. The beach/park employee was very serious when reading us the rules before we could be allowed to join the partiers. These rules included no tobacco use, no beverages in glass containers, no alcoholic beverages for anyone under the age of twenty-one and so on.

The girls seemed okay with it, being natives, but Dean was scowling about as much as I was.

We did make it down to the beach and, despite the California nanny state and the watchdogs, it was actually kinda fun. There were people down there drinking and just relaxing, two guys with acoustic guitars playing songs that people could sing along with. It made me feel a bit guilty though.

I had purchased a beautiful Ovation acoustic about three months before, deciding that I wanted to learn. I had spent about three hours total in those three months, learning the very basics. I was still barely at the ‘Mary had a little lamb’ stage and thought I should have been trying harder.

Singing along to a couple of the songs I knew, even harmonizing with Tiff once, I made up my mind that I was going to learn, sore fingers be damned.

Tiff had kept up with her alcohol intake and, after an hour and a half, it was looking like I was going to have to pour her into the limo. Either Kelly hadn’t had as much to drink or was much better and holding her liquor, because she was still on her own two feet and trying to get Dean on his back!

I called it quits before I had to actually carry Tiff to the limo, and we slogged off the beach. I had the driver take us to the Marina and gave him a fifty after he dropped us off. Up the gangplank, I helped Tiff into a spare room and forced her to take some Advil and drink water before she passed out.

Not sure if she would be thankful or pissed, I undressed her and left her there under a light blanket. A bottle of water on the bedside along with more Advil, and a garbage can in easy reach, was all I could really do for the girl.

Dean and Kelly had disappeared, to his cabin, I was pretty certain, and I was left standing in the main deck salon feeling a little sorry for myself. Just a little though, I wasn’t that narcissistic!

Over by the piano was a floor stand and, on the stand, was my guitar. No time like the present!

Taking the guitar, I grabbed a beer and wandered up to the flybridge. As I drank my beer, I practiced the chords I learned from a ‘You can learn guitar and wow friends & family’ book. It was peaceful up there; the lights of the Bali resort and the other yachts were pretty and a slight offshore breeze kept the bugs away, the discordant sound of a wrong note on a (probably) out of tune guitar in the hands of a beginner.

Practically paradise! Um ... yeah ... this was going to take a while.

In the morning I got up at my regular time and, when Dean failed to show, I did my forms alone, then swam in the resort pool. One thing that long sailing voyages did not allow was a decent cardio workout. Running on a treadmill, climbing a stair-stepper or riding a stationary bike was not the same, I don’t care what the ads say!

After a nice big breakfast, I grabbed my Guitar for Dummies book, and the guitar, and went up to the flybridge again. I figured that was as far as I could get from the sleepers below.

After scanning the notes on how to tune my guitar, I thought I had the strings in tune with each other. The thing is, I had no idea if they were in tune with anything else. How the hell was I supposed to know what a low E was supposed to sound like? The book suggested an electronic tuner but I found a little sidebar note that said the right pitch could be found in many YouTube videos!

Score!

A quick search on my laptop and bingo! Now, strum ... oh no, yeah, that was not even close. Okay, thirty minutes and four YouTube videos later, I was as sure as I could be that the guitar was in tune. I was also sure that as soon as I took it back inside, in the air conditioning, it would be off again. I needed to get one of those electronic gizmos or I would spend all my time tuning and no time learning to play!

Okay, chords.

“You should probably get a teacher.”

The voice was female and came from ... ah! The girl was young-ish, probably fifteen or sixteen, but had already filled out considerably. She had a nice, taut body and was already boasting a nice handful or more, about the same size as Pam, Alan’s girlfriend back in the Keys. She had super-short, almost boy-cut blonde hair and a cute smile.

“Oh? You think so?” I called back, striking a pose with the guitar.

She laughed at me, a very nice sound, and shook her head. “Not for the posing part, you do that well, but I meant for the actual playing.” She teased.

“You are probably right, but I picked it up on a lark, thought it would be cool for those nice, calm days out on the water. It’s not like I am ever going to make a living playing one.” I snorted, setting the guitar down and moving closer to the rail so I had a clear view of my conversational partner.

“You never know. You are good looking, built, I can see that ... let your hair grow out and you could be the front man for a cover band. An ‘oldies’ cover band.” She had jokes!

“Ouch! And you would be what? The next Brittany Spears, glowing brightly for a couple of albums before burning out and going to rehab?” I teased back but saw her flinch. Her smile, so bright just a moment again, seemed forced all of the sudden.

“Yeah, something like that” she said, sadness tinging her voice.

“Hey, look, I touched a nerve, obviously, but since it is way too nice out today for sad faces, can I get a do-over? Last thing I wanted to do was upset a beautiful girl on a beautiful morning.”

She glared at me for a moment, then tilted her head and her expression changed to one of surprise. “You really don’t recognize me, do you? Just when I think I have my ego under control, that I am just as grounded as the next girl, someone like you comes along to show me I still have a way to go.”

“How about this. Let’s start over. I’m Jack McCoy, 19, going to be a sophomore this year, though I haven’t decided where yet. My interests are boats, motorcycles, cars, girls and playing guitar badly.”

She giggled and did a little faux curtsey. It was interesting to me because the deck of her yacht was at least ten feet higher than mine and I got a rather interesting angle on that curtsey. Her bikini bottoms were not intended to cover all that much!

“I am Cade. Cade Taylor?” she paused a moment, watching me as if to see if I really didn’t know who she was. When she saw me shrug, she grinned and shook her head. “Anyway, I’m out here hiding from the press. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to look at Southern California colleges. You are hiding from the press? Believe it or not, I have some experience in that. So, what did you do, Cade Taylor?”

“There was a party, bad stuff was going on, the cops came, everyone freaked. I snuck out without getting arrested, thank god, but the paparazzi knew I had been there, they saw me arrive. My manager, who was also there, shipped me off, pun intended, to keep me away from the press until it dies down.”

She seemed sad and more than a little embarrassed. When I shrugged again, she seemed to take something from that. She stood straight again and squared her shoulders. “That you don’t know me and that it surprised me tells me that my roomie was right, I was getting too full of myself.”

“Well, Cade, it is nice to meet you. So, you are a model, eh? Are the big model parties really like they show in movies? Half naked people strutting around, scumbags doing lines of coke off a model’s butt, stuff like that?” I teased her, grinning and winking to show her I wasn’t at all serious. “Oooh ... did someone do a line of coke off of your butt? I think I would have liked to have seen that, depraved though it is. So, would I have seen you somewhere? Billboards? Magazines?”

Cade was laughing so hard she had to hang on to the rail to stand up.

“I am a singer, not a model, you dipstick!” she said, once she had a grip on herself. She drew herself up and put a haughty expression on her face. “I have three songs in the top ten on the billboard charts this week!” she continued. “You may bow now.”

I just rolled my eyes. “I don’t listen to bubble-gum, teeny bopper music, sorry, princess!” I spun the laptop around. I had googled her and pulled up the first YouTube video I could find. I hit play and made sure I was outputting sound to the Bluetooth stereo speakers.