Billionaire At Sea

5

Mia

After finishing the glass of wine, my tongue loosened up and I started to actually enjoy myself. I also found Damian’s sense of humor and easygoing manner a relief. From what I could tell, he wasn’t a snob, even though the man was rich enough to buy an island. In fact, he mentioned at one point that he’d been considering doing just that.

“That sounds so exciting,” said Ridley. “Would you live there exclusively or would it be more of a getaway?”

“A getaway,” he answered. “For myself. My family. My closest friends.”

Ridley laughed and raised her martini glass. “Here’s to building long-lasting, close friendships.”

Damian smiled and raised his beer. “Especially with two gourmet chefs. Like I mentioned before, I’m not much of a cook and always need help in that department, especially if I do end up acquiring some off-shore property. I’d hate to have to stock my freezer with pizza and pot-pies. I do that enough as it is.”

“You certainly don’t seem the type to indulge in too many frozen meals,” I said, thinking out loud.

“Maybe not frozen, but when the employees at Chipotle see me walk through the door, they have my order finished before I make it to the counter,” he replied. “I eat out far too much.”

“A busy man like you doesn’t have a personal chef making your meals?” asked Ridley.

“I have a housekeeper who stops in a couple times a week and a fulltime nanny for my son, Jake. Thank goodness she can cook and feeds him most of his meals. As for me, I usually eat on the fly,” he answered.

“Speaking of your son, do you have a picture of him?” I asked.

Damian reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. When he showed us a picture of his son, my heart melted. He was a younger, softer version of Damian, with more dimples.

“He’s adorable,” I said, handing the photo to Ridley.

“He is,” said Ridley, looking at it. She handed it back to him. “He looks just like you.”

“That’s what everyone tells me.” His eyes gazed lovingly at the photo before he put it back into his wallet.

“Why don’t you hire someone to cook for you and Jake fulltime?” asked Ridley. “Or at the very least, have someone create your meals ahead of time?”

“She’s right. You could reheat them up in the microwave. That would have to be far better than fast food,” said Michael.

“I’ve been considering it, especially now that Jake is living with me and I’ve retired,” he replied.

“Speaking of retirement,” said Ridley. “How’s that been going for you?”

Michael gave her a stern look.

Damian shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been so busy with my personal life that I haven’t had time to really think about it.”

“I’m sure you have. Anyway, back to what we were talking about,” said Michael, giving Ridley a warning look. “I know a very good realtor who specializes in island property, so when you’re ready to purchase, let me know. I’ll find his number for you. He has excellent references and is very discreet.”

“Thanks,” replied Damian.

“I’d love to buy an island someday,” said Ridley, with a dreamy look in her eyes. “Maybe even open up a resort of some kind.” She looked at me. “With our own restaurant.”

She’d mentioned it before. I knew it was well out of our reach, however. We’d need millions and could barely stay on top of the bills we had now.

“It sounds lovely, although, to be honest, the idea of being at the mercy of an island frightens me a bit,” said Michael. “What if there’s a hurricane or some other kind of natural disaster?”

“We’d have a helicopter to whisk us away from the island,” she replied.

“Hell, let’s just have a weatherman on speed-dial. That way we’ll have advance warning of impending doom,” I said with a wry smile.

Damian looked amused. “Sounds like you both have it all figured out.”

“I don’t know about that,” she said, staring at her glass. “But, I think everyone needs something to strive for. And… why not shoot for the stars, right?”

“I admire you for dreaming big. If it wasn’t for dreams, I’d have never played professional baseball. In fact, my grandfather wanted me to go to Harvard so one day I could take over his shipping corporation. To his disappointment, running a business wasn’t my dream. Just his.”

“I imagine he got over it when you became a successful player,” said Ridley.

“It’s hard to say. He was a stubborn man, just like his grandson,” replied Damian, his lip curling up.

“You? Stubborn?” said Michael, feigning disbelief. “The hell, you say!”

Damian chuckled.

“Let me tell you something,” said Michael, looking at me and Ridley. “This guy puts the ‘stub’ in stubborn. Or maybe it’s the ‘orn’. I don’t know, but once he sets his mind to something, it’s all over but the crying.”

Damian sighed. “You just won’t let that go, will you?”

“Let what go?” asked Ridley.

“Oh, he’s talking about this car I bought last year, at an auction,” said Damian.

“He didn’t particularly even want the damn thing, but ended up in a bidding war, just so this young punk wouldn’t get his hands on it,” said Michael.

“What do you mean?” asked Ridley.

“Have you ever heard of ‘The Junkyard Jackass’?” asked Michael.

Ridley snorted. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“He was the other bidder. Apparently, he has this YouTube channel. It’s very popular, from what he told everyone at the auction,” said Damian dryly. “Anyway, this asshole records himself destroying expensive collectables, just for the hell of it.”

“Seriously?” I asked, frowning. “Why?”

“For profit on the ads associated with his channel, and I’m sure he gets off on it, too,” said Damian. “Anyway, we overheard how he wanted this ’57 Porsche Speedster to be his next target. Apparently, he’d been wanting one for a long time, mainly because his old man loves them.”

“They must be very close,” I said dryly.

He snorted. “No s**t. Talk about dysfunctionality. Anyway, I just couldn’t let him have the car, knowing what he wanted to do with it.”

“I bet Junkyard was angry,” said Ridley.

“That’s putting it mildly. He threw a childish tantrum,” said Michael, “and threatened Damian, right there at the auction. Said he’d ruin him through social media.”

Smiling, I shook my head. “You must have been trembling in your boots.”

Damian chuckled. “I’m thinking that if I actually used social media, I’d have gained some new followers, considering what a little douchebag he is.”

“You don’t have a Twitter or f*******: account?” asked Ridley.

“No. I understand why some people do it. It’s just not my thing.”

“We use it for our business,” I said. “Other than that, I try to stay away from social media and internet as much as possible.”

“It’s handy in many ways but it’s also poisoning our youth,” said Damian. “Kids aren’t outside like they used to be. It’s a shame.”

“I agree,” I said. “And if they are outside, their faces are glued to their cell phones.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s pretty ridiculous.”

“And guys like Junkyard are making a killing off of it. By the way, what happened after he threatened you at the auction?” asked Ridley.

“He and his entourage were escorted out by security guards,” Michael said. “It was quite a scene.”

“I can only imagine,” I said, taking another sip of wine. “Well, hopefully you’ll never have to see that little s**t again.”

“I hope not, but if I ever do, I’ll make sure to tell him how much I love my Speedster and thank him for bringing the car to my attention,” said Damian.

We all laughed.