Oliver
THAT’S WHY I don’t drink. At least not as much as I did that night. When good sense is dulled, I can have a hard time controlling my impulses. A fight in a nightclub and a striptease for my friends is proof enough.
Stori hadn’t known about my previous job, but she took the news well. In fact, she met the animal in me with one of her own. The woman has a wild streak, and its cleverly hidden behind the class and intellect that she leads with. Jackpot
After my “performance” we excused ourselves and made it to the room in record time. There, inspired by the night’s events, we proceeded to fuck our brains out. Turns out too much of a good thing is still a good thing. I was so hung over the next day. I had to skip Antibes and its famous beaches. Stori was feeling fine, but pretended to be in the same condition so we could stay in bed all day. For the first time since we arrived in France, our plans were pure. We slept. Straight through till dinner. We’re only human. Well, most of the time
Day four of the cruise had us harbored in Cap St. Jean Ferrat. The turquoise waters were right for all the toys that come with the yacht. We raced each other in state of the art water-crafts. Then Zarah and Fig water skied while Luca drove the boat.
Later in the day Stori and I toured the coastline in the motorized dingy. We laughed at ourselves because not even a confined bobbing tub in the ocean could put us off the idea of having sex
That night we all went into town and had dinner at the Grand Hotel Du Cap Ferrat. A table on the terrace with views of the sea and a gastronomic tour of the Mediterranean. Wine and conversation flowed freely, and I think all six of us knew the night would be remembered long after it ended. We were happy
. I’m getting used to the feeling. Ever since she came back into my life, I notice I enjoy most everything a little more. Friends, food, conversations, all richer somehow. I guess the love songs are right. I see her face in every flower. It’s magic.
There’s something else. I’ve always been a loner. Being with this group is different. Usually I want to shoot myself in the head if I’m with people for longer than an hour. I run out of things to say and just want to get back to my own place. That’s not the case here. Maybe all this time I’ve been waiting for these people to show up. That sounds a little touchy feely but I think it might be true.
I may have misjudged Caroline. There’s a cool side to her. Could be the influence of Zarah and Stori because she’s different than she was that first day, more at ease. And she and her husband have relaxed around each other. The first few days you could slice the tension with a knife.
I always liked Luca, I just didn’t hang with him as much as Fig when we were in school. But getting reacquainted at this age has made me appreciate his humor.
I’m not surprised Zarah is Stori’s best friend. She’s fun and game for anything. But that’s all words. What makes this group compatible is the chemistry that flows between the six of us.
I expect tonight will be a continuation of our good time. Especially since we’re in Monaco, the final stop before Positano. Isn’t there some way to make this last indefinitely? I have no desire to get back to reality. Not when the dream is so good.
We stayed aboard today, except for the few hours Stori and I went into town. I wanted to buy her a memory of our trip. Something she could look at when she’s old and remember how it was for us. We found it in a little jewelry shop in the La Condamine. It’s a delicate gold chain necklace with sterling silver carved beads every four inches or so. The coming together of two different precious metals, that have been forged by heat, the result greater than the sum of its parts. That’s us.
We’re going to the Casino tonight, and there’s an excitement building. The twins and Caroline have been before. But for Zarah, Stori, and I, it’s a big deal. A few months back I wouldn’t have been able to afford a lottery ticket. Now this.
The three men are ready and waiting for the women. I think it’s a law. I’ve taken to wearing a tuxedo. You stand a little straighter when you feel this good. Fig and Luca are having a martini but I’m not going to start early. Lesson learned.
“Come on, Oliver. Have one before we leave,” Fig says.
“Don’t force him. He may take off his clothes again,” Luca kids.
“I didn’t take my clothes off. And don’t remind me.”
Luca downs the last of his drink and releases a big burp that goes on unusually long. It makes Fig and I laugh because his brother looks like Bond, and sounds like an old drunk in a seedy bar.
“At least he didn’t fart,” Fig says.
“What are you three laughing at?” Zarah says.
We turn to find the three women entering the room. Figs face lights.
“Bellissimo, mi amore,” he says.
Zarah does a twirl, and Caroline makes her way to Luca for a quick peck. No disturbing the makeup. But I only have eyes for Stori, who knows I’m appreciating every inch of her right now. She wears a sleeveless black partly shear jumpsuit that plunges to her waist. Not sure how she got into this, but I’ll find out when I take it off her. It’s deceptively simple in design, and clings to her body. There’s no bra or panties under there I’d say. Her heels are high and tie with black satin ribbons to her narrow ankles. Some of the things women wear take your breath away. Think I’m having trouble breathing.
It’s a short trip from the yacht to the Casino Monte Carlo, which is on a hill overlooking the harbor. We do it in style. There’s a Rolls Royce waiting, and it deposits us three feet from the one hundred and fifty year old centerpiece of Monaco.
The sound of car engines hum in the night. Lamborghinis, Bentleys, Ferraris, and luxury automobiles I’ve never seen before, all crowding the square. Luca points out how many top of the line Dragoni tires there are. The setting’s opulent and extravagant, the Belle Époque architecture and surroundings unbelievably stunning. I see people paying to enter, and showing picture I.D.’s, but Fig flashes a card that reads Cercie Monte-Carlo Players Club and we enter without further interruption
The crowd looks like extras in a James Bond film. Most of the women are dressed to kill, dripping in diamonds and every precious stone you can name. The men aren’t as easily distinguished because we mostly look alike, black tuxedo, black shoes. You can tell the tourists who aren’t used to this kind of setting or dress code. I’d guess they’re feeling like me, a little dazzled by it all. I’m trying to be cool, but come on, this is extraordinary.
Everywhere I look there’s gold. Gold columns, gold chairs, gold ceilings. And huge chandeliers. There’s art in every room, sculptures, and huge paintings, even in the bars we pass. The gaming tables are spread across the space. What surprises me are the slot machines. I didn’t expect that. Women wearing a fortune around their neck, fingers, and wrists, hoping to win a little jackpot.
“Oliver, isn’t this the grandest thing you’ve ever seen?”
I put my arm around her back and guide her towards the room Fig and Zarah have gone.
“Unbelievable.”
My cell sounds. It’s Piper again. I turn it off. She’s not going to intrude. I don’t care what the news is. This night is for Stori and I.
“Let’s play a little roulette,” Fig says finding a place at the table. Zarah looks like a pro when she chooses her numbers.
“Seven, twenty two, sixty-nine. Figure it out,” she says, making the table laugh.
Caroline and Luca join us and the six of us take our places.
“Good luck to us all!” Luca says.
I’ve never gambled in my life. Never had any money to throw to the wind. But I do now, just a little for the fun of it. Stori and I split the thousand dollars I came to lose. For the next hour and a half we stand at the table, placing bets and collecting the winnings. I don’t think it’s usually this easy, but for some reason Stori and I can’t lose.
I think Fig and Luca are enjoying our beginner’s luck more than we are. Every time I make a bet I think I’m going to lose it all, and Stori wants to quit when she’s ahead five hundred dollars. We’re the most reluctant gamblers in the place.
As unexpectedly as it came, our good luck went. It’s safe to say we both should have stopped when we were ahead. When the fall came, it came swiftly. We were two thousand ahead at the peak. She fell first, in a big bet fall. Me, I crashed too, in record time I’m sure. In the end, we walked away with half of what we started with, and a new-found respect for people who know when to quit. But if you have to lose gambling, the Casino in Monte Carlo is the place. Beauty, art, friends and laughter, they’re the real bounty to prize.