Chapter 317

Eileen sat in the sitting/living room of her suite sipping from a bottle of water after having just returned from a tour of the Retreat given by Diana and Arlene. During the hour and a half, the three had gotten to know each other a bit. The more the young pilot was with the mother and daughter, the more she wondered about them. Curious, and being as subtle as possible, she tried to check for signs of cosmetic surgery on Diana's face, but there didn't appear to be any tightened skin or visible scarring, and with the tight top Diana was wearing, it was also obvious there was no sag to her braless breasts. Eileen had wondered about breast augmentation, but the natural-appearing sway and bounce to Diana's breasts made that possibility seem unlikely.

Again, she wondered how they could be mother and daughter. Are they teasing me or something? And why would they even do that? The resemblance is striking, so they're definitely close relatives, but they must be sisters, despite what they say. But they introduced themselves as mother and daughter, and Arlene calls Diana "Mom." And the other woman – I can't remember her name – surely can't really be Diana's mother. Maybe it's just a fluke and somehow they don't age. But if that's true, why aren't there doctors or research people hanging around here trying to find out how they do it? Then again, maybe there are. I'm a stranger here, so how should I know?

Hmmm. I think I'm jealous. I'm twenty-seven, and Diana looks younger than I do, and her mother – if she really is her mother – looks about my age. Then with a mental sigh, Get your mind off it and enjoy yourself, Girl. You'll probably never have a chance to spend time in luxury like this ever again.

Thinking of the luxury displayed everywhere she had been in the Retreat brought on her next thought. Now I understand why Kathy and Jill were so casual about that expensive hotel suite in St. Louis. This building almost makes that suite look ... cheap, yet nothing here is gaudy, but rather is a more subtle, though nonetheless positive example of supreme wealth.

Diana said that Mr. Wainwright originally built this place as a conference center for his businesses, but he ran into problems getting his employees here during the winter. High winds often made the use of helicopters impossible when he needed them the most, and deep and frequent snows backed by those high winds hindered road travel, so when talks bogged down during the sale of Jeff Matthews' invention, Mr. Wainwright "threw in" the conference center as further incentive. But the Wainwrights loved the place, and after they and the Matthews became close friends, set up residence here with the Matthews, so the conference center eventually became known as the Retreat.

Eileen stood to move her chair a little closer, kicked her shoes off and propped her feet on the large and elegant coffee table, feeling a bit guilty for doing so, but knew her sock feet wouldn't hurt the table. As her mind returned to her tour, she mused about having met her first billionaire. Diana and Arlene had stopped at a suite not far from this one, and Diana had knocked on the door. A moment later, the door was opened by a man she instantly recognized from the many pictures of him in the paper and on the net.

"Well, well. And who do we have here?" he had asked, his manner jovial as he stood smiling at her, barefoot, dressed in jeans and a tee shirt – and the jeans didn't look like the designer kind, either.

Mouth dry as she was introduced to one of the richest men on the planet, she numbly shook his hand, then managed to respond as he, in turn, introduced her to Margaret when she walked over.

"Margaret told me that Kathy and Jill were going to visit you," Wainwright said. "I hope your flight was a nice one. And speaking of flights, I understand you're a pilot. How did you like the Citation X?" he asked as he and Margaret ushered the three to seats.

Thinking about her hesitancy, she wondered how she had been able to respond, but all she could remember for now was that he looked younger than she had imagined, and there was a charisma about him similar to that of Bill and ... Jeff. Like Jeff, he had insisted that she call him by his given name, Frank, and Margaret had insisted on first names, too. Before Eileen knew it, she was holding a cup of coffee provided by the billionaire and was sitting and being subtly grilled by the two.

"I'm told you're a pilot. Do you have ratings for the X?" he asked.

"No, but that's now high on my list of things I most want to do." she responded wistfully.

"Well, Bill is an instructor," Wainwright answered vaguely, then, "I hear you're out of work for the moment?"

Eileen felt her face heating up. "Uh, yes, Sir..."

"No 'sirs' in this room," he said with a grin. "Frank works just fine."

"Uh, Frank," she stammered, lost for a second, "I'm trying not to worry about work until after the holidays. I have a couple of places in St. Louis that I'll contact after the first of the year..."

"Mind telling me what happened?" he bluntly asked, but there was a smile on his face that belied the bluntness somewhat.

Arlene, sitting beside her, sneaked a hand over to squeeze Eileen's as she met Wainwright's eyes. She had almost opened her mouth to speak in generalities about what happened when she suddenly realized he wouldn't want that. "Uh, a person I worked with was a relative of the owner of the company. He's, uh, somewhat of a ladies' man and puts the make on the female pilots. You either sleep with him or get the lousy jobs and are usually scheduled to work the holidays. I've worked the last two Christmases and New Years in a row, and when I received notification that I was scheduled to do the same this year, despite their promises last year that I wouldn't have to again, I lost it and told them I would not do it. And, of course, they fired me."

"Their policy?" Frank wondered.

"All pilots must work the holidays on rotation every third year."

"And this person you're talking about?"

"He's worked none of them since I went to work there."

"Is the third year thing written policy?"

Eileen hesitated. "I was told it was when they hired me, but I can't swear to it, since I have never seen their written policy. But I suppose they could say they fired me for cause, because I refused to fly Christmas Eve and Christmas day."

"Oh, from what you have just told me about this guy..."

" ... Crosston," she supplied, "Gage Crosston."

" ... I suspect my attorneys could make a case out of it. At the very least, I doubt this outfit would want their treatment of female pilots to become public knowledge. Upon notification of the pending lawsuit they would probably take steps to make the suit go away. In other words, compensation. Want to pursue it?"

Eileen remembered his eyes, and the intelligence he so obviously displayed as he stared at her. She had hesitated before saying, "I don't want to have a reputation for suing my employer. Crosston never felt me up or anything like that. He was far too smart for that. He was full of innuendoes that could be taken more than one way, and he never did it with witnesses present, well ... other than subtly cutting me down in front of our clients while at the same time making himself look like the consummate professional lecturing to a less than knowledgeable rookie – which I am not. My friend quit at the same time they fired me and for the same reasons, but she already had a job lined up."

"I understand. If you change your mind, just let me know." With a subtle skill, Wainwright had shifted the topic of conversation away from her job situation, and within moments she was laughing and having a good time. Only later would she realize that she had been interviewed, and would begin to understand just how truly intelligent Frank Wainwright actually was. But even with that, she had not noticed the look of agreement that passed between Frank and Margaret. Nor had she realized that the Wainwrights had known that Diana and Arlene were going to bring Eileen to the suite. Tina had deliberately remained in the bedroom out of sight lest Eileen wonder what her association with the other two was before Eileen was told about the Alpha's multiple wives. She would receive Frank's full approval if Bill decided to hire her, whether he took her for a wife or not.

Eileen's thoughts drifted to Bill as she sat in her living room with her feet propped on her coffee table. A moment later, she realized that she was absently caressing herself as she remembered her day. Stop that, she admonished herself, jerking her hand back from her groin. You need to quit fantasizing about him, Girl. He's married to a beautiful woman who has been kind enough to bring you to this ritzy building to associate with all these wealthy people for the holidays. Somehow, she has the influence to convince the Matthews to go along with it, so I surely don't want to insult her by fantasizing about her husband.

A knock on the door interrupted any further thoughts along those lines. Feeling much like a teenager caught masturbating by her parents, she snapped her feet down from the table and hurried to the door.

Bill, Kathy and Jill stood there. "Hi," the three said in unison.

Bill had obviously been the one who knocked and was therefore the closest to the door and consequently to Eileen. Their eyes locked momentarily. Much to her consternation, she could feel a blush flood her face.

"May we come in?" he asked when she stood there a second too long without saying anything.

Mumbling something that she couldn't remember afterward, she backed up and managed to welcome them. Act like you have a brain, Stupid, she admonished herself. "Soft drink? Or I could make some coffee?" she asked as she remembered the coffee maker, then wondered if she could figure out how it worked. It didn't look anything like the cheap one in her apartment.

Bill sat on a couch, Kathy on one side and Jill on the other. "Coffee sounds good," he responded, and the other two quickly agreed.

"I'll help," Kathy added, coming to her feet, much to Eileen's relief.

The two busied themselves making coffee, and Eileen was beginning to get over her uneasiness at the door when Bill had been so near. Taking out cups, she turned toward the couch where Bill and Jill were sitting, but her running patter with Kathy faltered as she took in the couple. And indeed, they were sitting as a couple. Jill had both arms locked around Bill's arm and she had her head lying against his shoulder.

Jill's positioning projected both possessiveness and contentment. Bill, with his feet propped on the coffee table appeared calm and content as well. This was obviously something both of them were accustomed to doing.

Eileen, like the others, was very intelligent. Within a couple of seconds, many things passed through her mind. Briefly, she wondered if the positioning of the two on the couch was deliberate, and decided it was. If that were the case, then they wanted her to know things, and among those things, was a physically projected "he's mine" from Jill as she almost blatantly held onto Bill. But ... Kathy had said she was Bill's wife, and their interaction since Kathy, Jill and Eileen arrived at the Retreat had reflected that.

Jill was smiling back at Eileen, and as far as she could determine, the smile was an honest one and didn't appear to be a show of arrogance or worse. "Oh, my," Eileen managed to get out as she put the cups down on the bar in front of her before she dropped them.

She remembered wondering why there were so many women at the Retreat and so few men, and ... the women were all – at least the ones of them she had noticed – wearing wedding rings. Just as her mind made the leap, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. "Don't jump to the wrong conclusions," Kathy very quietly said. "Let's get the coffee poured and sit back down. We have a lot to talk to you about. And before you ask, or even think it, this is not a commune."

Coffee in hand and the insulated carafe on the table in front of them, Bill, Jill and Kathy sat on the couch while Eileen took a chair across from them. She wasn't feeling nearly as casual as the others appeared, however. With her cup clasped firmly in both hands, she hoped the trembling wasn't noticeable. Crap, she thought, I've been less nervous than this while landing with a strong crosswind. But there was a part of her mind that kept screaming over and over, Bill has two wives. Bill has two wives. But another part, because of the implications, was saying, Yes. Yes!

"Then the Matthews..." she quietly queried.

Kathy let out a sigh. "Jeff has fourteen wives," she acknowledged, but then went quickly on, "but again, please don't jump to conclusions. They, just like Jill and me, are loving wives to their husband. They make love only with their husband, just as Jill and I make love only with our husband. There is no swapping – none."