by Jamie Begley
“Old man, it has nothing to do with strength; you just aren’t motivated enough.” Ginny giggled, pointing at his limp dick.
“Then come back in here and motivate me some more.”
She tsked him with the click of her tongue. “You’ve been motivated enough for today. I’ll give you some more tonight.” With a sassy grin, Ginny went into the bedroom to dress.
Putting on a thin pair of blue cotton crop pants and a white linen top, she was putting on her sneakers when Gavin came back in to get dressed. Brushing her hair, she put her hair in a ponytail, then turned to see Gavin putting his shoes on.
“Ready?” he asked as he stood to look at her questioningly.
Finding herself unable to speak, she had to blink back the sudden tears in her eyes.
Gavin walked to her to enclose her in his arms. “We don’t have to go.”
Shaking her head, she stepped out of his arms. “I’m ready.” She gave him a strained smile. “Just in time.”
Hearing the knock from the other room, they went to answer the door. Agent Collins was waiting and, without pleasantries, hurried them to the Moke.
The short ride was over too soon for Ginny. She regretted not coming up with a spur-of-the-moment refusal for the meeting with Allerton and her mother for breakfast.
Escorted to the first-floor restaurant, they were led through a private doorway that had a different buffet area than the one in the other room. Bypassing the buffet, they headed toward a balcony doorway then to a large patio that faced the ocean. The area had six tables and each one was occupied by guests. Allerton and a woman sat at the largest table, waiting for them. They were already eating and looked up when Gavin and Ginny took their seats.
“Good morning. I hope you both slept well,” Allerton greeted them.
“We did. Thank-you,” Ginny answered, placing the linen square on her lap.
“Soleil was hungry. I assured her you wouldn’t mind if we didn’t wait.”
“Not at all.” Glancing around the table, she did a double-take of the guests, recognizing several she had seen in the media.
A waiter appeared by Allerton’s side. “What would you like to drink?”
Both she and Gavin ordered orange juice.
“Would you like the waiter to fix you a selection, or would you prefer to make your own plate?” Allerton asked.
“I’ll just take the juice.”
“I’ll take some eggs, bacon, and toast,” Gavin ordered.
“You have a long day ahead of you. I had the kitchen fix you a lunch for when you get hungry on the island.”
“Thank-you.”
Once their drinks arrived, Ginny didn’t touch her drink until Gavin gave her a subtle nod.
It gave Ginny the creeps the way Allerton studied Gavin. She didn’t like it, and despite Gavin ignoring the perusal, her protective instincts screamed at a fever pitch.
Underneath the tablecloth, she felt Gavin place a warning hand on her thigh.
“You sure I can’t tempt you to try something off the buffet? You didn’t eat much last night. Is something wrong with the food?”
“No. I’ve never been much of a morning person.”
Angry as she was with Allerton, Ginny attempted a conversation with her mother.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, thank-you. Would you like a mimosa?” Spreading a dot of orange marmalade on a slice of toast, Soleil then gave the toast to Allerton. “You should try one. The bartender rims the glass with brown sugar.”
Was Soleil silently indicting that she and Allerton were in a relationship? Ginny was sickened at the thought.
“No, thank-you. I’ll stick with the plain juice.”
A barely audible sound came from Gavin, and Ginny turned her head, giving him a questioning glance. He had stopped eating and was looking at Allerton. Her eyes went to him, too, see him staring at Gavin as he ate his toast. The confusing byplay between the two men had Ginny ready to leave the table. Her protective instincts were going off the rail. Whatever Allerton had done, it had upset Gavin, and she wasn’t having it.
“Perhaps we should skip breakfast and go ahead to Clindale?” Ginny placed her cloth napkin back on the table, preparing to leave.
“Your husband hasn’t finished his breakfast yet. Is there a problem?” Allerton finished his toast and poured himself a cup of tea from a small silver teapot.
“Actually, yes.”
“Ginny ….” Gavin’s voice was so indistinct that she barely heard him.
Turning her head, she looked at him. He was staring meaningfully and, at first, she didn’t get what he was trying to tell her. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks.
Gavin was warning her that Allerton had no intention of them leaving alive. No person as high profile as he was would ever allow his association with the guests on the balcony made public.
“Ah … then it’s the company you’re displeased with. Has Soleil or I offended you or Gavin in some way?”
Ginny felt like her head was on the guillotine each time she talked to him. Every word had to be examined, and it was grueling. He was counting on her slipping up.
Never in her life had she wanted to be rude to someone, and the idea that the woman who gave birth to her sat there silently across the table, waiting to pull down the release handle of the guillotine at Allerton’s order, made her sick.
If Gavin didn’t want her confronting Allerton about his strange behavior toward him, then fine, she wouldn’t—but it didn’t mean she couldn’t kick sand in his face.
“How perceptive of you. It is the company,” she drawled out, dropping her hand under the table to give Gavin a squeeze of reassurance.
Gavin lowered his fork to the table, his lips twitching at her, waiting for the show to begin.
“Darling ….” Soleil placed her toast back on her plate.
“It’s not you”—her mother might be acting like a Stepford wife, but that didn’t have her wanting to leave the table—“or Mr. Allerton who has ruined my appetite.” That part she plain lied about.
“You seem quite unhappy by my choice of guests. May I ask who?”
Unable to tell him that he was the one who was offending the hell out of her by the creepy, sexual way he watched Gavin, she stared pointedly at the men whose table was catty-corner to theirs.
Having to sit with Allerton was a stomach churner, especially after he basically admitted to killing every soul on Clindale. Yet, not even Allerton could hold a candle to the two men she was staring at. Ivan Pavlov and Alek Lukin were eating lobster tails, oysters, caviar, and drinking champagne. The two had imprisoned their own people, forced them into labor camps, and had killed for the tiniest infractions for opposing their dictatorships. They were the exact example of whom Gavin had been warning her about.
“I take it Ivan Pavlov and Alek Lukin were other subjects of your friend’s podcasts or do they displease you personally?” Succeeding at having Allerton withdrawing his gaze away from Gavin, Ginny didn’t shy away from Allerton’s calculating eyes
“I don’t have to watch a podcast or videos. All you have to do is open a paper.”
“My dear, you’re showing your youth. Their countrymen and women idolize them.”
“Not by choice. I wonder, if their countries were open and people were given the choice to stay under their tyranny or have their own say without fear of punishment or death, which they would choose.”
“Democracy leads to unrest. Your own country proves that. You should read your own country’s papers instead of judging others’ form of government.”
“We have our faults—sadly, too many—but as far as I know we don’t sterilize our women, then force them into labor camps. We certainly don’t rape and brutalize those women for sport, and we don’t place land mines to keep our population from fleeing our country.”
“Do you think, if I shared your idealistic opinion, my charity would have succeeded in helping so many if I let unrealistic optimism color
my methods? I find it counterintuitive to change their expectations to agree with mine. No one benefits by standing on moral high ground.”
“In case you don’t know, it’s called basic human rights. You want to talk about benefits? We can go there. Just who benefits? Certainly not the people you said your charity was created to help. Who it does help are the businesses and large corporations who take advantage of the loopholes made by you by greasing the palms of those countries to make it more beneficial for them to use their forced labored, allowing those businesses and large corporations to manufacture products at a fraction of the cost than it would take to make anywhere else,” Ginny took the time to take in a deep breath before continuing, “all while pretending to stand on the moral high ground with their palms clean.”
“Evangeline, perhaps we should change the subject.” Her mother motioned for the waiter to order another mimosa.
“Don’t worry yourself, Soleil; it’s not often that I’m given such stimulating conversation so early in the morning.”
It was clear by Allerton’s blasé statement that everything she said had been brushed off like water off a duck’s back. He was so sure of his status with those in political power that nothing she could say would place a dent in the arrogance of believing he was untouchable.
“I agree.” Ginny cast her mother her own assurance, which had Soleil frowning in response. “The feeling is mutual. If not for your friendship with Mr. Allerton, I’m sure he wouldn’t have given me the time of day to express my views.”
Allerton gave her a supercilious tilt of his head. “I find it amusing you’re so vehement in your criticism of my friends yet ignore any lack of moral standards of your own friends.”
Ginny finished her juice, refusing to compare her friends to someone like Ivan Pavlov and Alek Lukin, especially Ivan Pavlov.
The thirty-eight-year-old dictator could have been his country’s saving grace. At the age of eighteen, he left his country to be educated aboard while his father held the reigns secure. So many countries had pinned their hopes that he would make a change for the better when he succeeded his father. While learning and traveling abroad, the media showcased his enjoyment and interest in touring other countries, even going so far as to show appreciation for various cultures, knowledge that had been kept from him because of the rigid rules his father instituted in his homeland. From all reports, Ivan had been a fun-loving and generous friend to those who had grown close to him during the four years he had spent at university and traveling around the world exploring the globe.
The last year before he was due to return home, he had fallen in love with a beautiful woman, Aanya. She was the daughter of a leader from another neighboring country. Her country was more powerful, larger, and more progressive, with international relationships and ties to some of the largest companies in the world. Although they were more progressive, they controlled their citizens with an iron fist, much the same in that respect.
Aanya was indescribably beautiful, in body as well as in spirit. Her father, Markoff, adored his only daughter, and when Aanya used her power, she convinced her father to ease some the regulations he had imposed on their people. Her humanitarian efforts branched out, seeking to help others worldwide. When Aanya and Ivan Pavlov were sighted together, people from around the globe fell in love with the young couple’s burgeoning romance, and when they got engaged, their images were on every TV channel and in every magazine.
When Ivan’s father died unexpectantly, he immediately returned to his homeland with Aanya. Their marriage took place a month later, with Ivan letting his country celebrate as they had never done before. Markoff, Aanya’s father, and Alek Lukin, her older brother, had also attended. The country, who’d never allowed foreigners inside their gates, welcomed them, as well as many of his high-profiled friends Ivan had made while abroad.
The months afterward showed promising change in the rigid rule his people had lived under during his father’s reign. The people praised the changes and grew hopeful for the future, generating a swell of respect for Ivan Pavlov. Those affluent in the country spoke of their suspicions with such drastic changes, but those who had only known deep poverty and mind-numbing work had seen it as a sign their children wouldn’t be raised with a hungry belly.
While the country’s respect grew for Ivan, they fell in love with Aanya. Unlike other wives of previous leaders, she wasn’t closeted in the palace. Every day, she went out to different areas in the country to talk and meet her new countrymen and women. She was photographed playing with their children, talking to the women as they did their chores, and she would listen to the men’s concerns, promising to speak with her husband without fear of reprisal for speaking out. Aanya’s actions showed a deep commitment to her new homeland, and the people reciprocated by falling in love with her, showing a devotion whenever she was near.
Slowly, insidiously, Aanya’s daily walks grew less frequent, and soon the only representation she held from her former life was the pin indicating she was a princess from her country. The people could see the happiness that had always surrounded her disappearing, coincidentally Ivan ordered the media to leave and his friends stopped coming to visit. The media curtain went dark again and, from there, only small leaks of atrocities being committed could be heard from within.
When a month had passed without sight of Aanya, there had been a revolt. From the few accounts that had leaked out, it had been a bloody, brutal battle, only coming to a stop when Aanya made an appearance in front of the massive protestors to stop. Their love for her brought an end to the revolt as Aanya, but then once again disappeared back into obscurity within the royal palace. Ivan Pavlov handed down severe punishments for those who had taken part in the revolt, executing and imprisoning his people who violated the rules of his regime.
Ivan Pavlov remained untouched from the sanctions imposed by the UN. Alek Lukin, however, had been gradually taking control of his country as Markoff had grown old and frail. While superpower nations across the globe felt no threat from Ivan, they were wary of Alek Lukin, who was guilty of the same atrocities, yet his nation had been smarter about keeping them hidden from the world’s view. Alek revoked many of the changes that Aanya had convinced her father to incorporate, becoming powerful enough not only to rule their own country with an iron fist but he’d gained power to smaller nations across international. Alek was a formidable force that no one wanted to reckon with.
When international pressure rose that Alek was sanctioning Ivan’s tyranny, Alek disavowed his relationship with Ivan’s behavior and imposed embargos as well. As much he loved his sister, he severed all ties with her to protect his international reputation.
The revolt against Ivan taught him two valuable lessons. While he was their leader, it was Aanya who held their love. And while married to his daughter, Markoff had refused to send troops to help Ivan crush the revolt and until he saw his daughter make an appearance in front of the protestors, showing support of her husband, Markoff only then allowed his son full control.
Alek hadn’t allowed Aanya to visit after he had severed ties with Ivan. While Aanya was never allowed the same freedom she had once to leave the palace grounds, she was by his side prominently during the only celebrations Ivan now allowed—his and his father’s birthday celebrations. During the ensuing years, Aanya was only visible from the palace balcony, waving to those who lined up in a massive crowd to catch sight of her, and on the rare occasion she rode by his side in a car during a parade to wave gaily to those who chanted out her name. Her friends, charities, and the organizations she had supported missed her involvement as the country she had shown such love and care for degenerated into despair. None of the work she had done changed the lives of those mired in the poverty of her country.
“The people I count as true friends would go to any lengths to protect the people they love.” Ginny met her mother’s gaze as the woman lifted her mimosa to her lips. “When they give to a charity, it isn’t quid pro quo. Their gift is
made because their hearts are in the right place and they don’t lose sight of whom they are trying to assist.”
“You’re very protective of your … friends, which is an admirable quality. A quality I also share toward my friends.” Allerton placed a comforting hand on Soleil’s hand. “Perhaps it would make your mother more comfortable if we just agree to disagree?”
Ginny nodded. “I apologize, Soleil.” Making it plain who she was apologizing to, Ginny tried to draw her mother into a conversation. “Have you heard any more news from Jasper as to when he will be coming?”
“I haven’t spoken to him,” Soleil answered after receiving a nod of permission from Allerton, “this morning.”
It wasn’t boding well for Gavin and her that the woman made no attempt to hide that she was deferring to Allerton so visibly, making it plain she was just a spectator in this farce.
“When I find out you’ll be the first to know.”
Had Soleil and her father divorced, and were they waiting until they were together to tell her? Ginny didn’t think so. It wasn’t like they were in a typical situation where their children would be hurt by a divorce.
Every time Soleil spoke to her, Ginny could feel the distance separating them. Once again she wondered if she had ever had a loving mother and daughter bond, or if it was never there to begin with? Ginny didn’t know anymore.
“I need to spend some time with my other guests. Please stay until you’re finished.” Allerton placed his napkin on the table, preparing to rise. “A driver is waiting outside to take you to the boat that will deliver you to Clindale.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you?” Soleil spoke up when Allerton remained standing at the table as if to prompt her.
“I’m sure,” Ginny refused. “Thank-you for the offer. I think it’s better if I do this alone with my husband. Gavin?”
“I’m ready.”
Agent Collins gave his plate of crab legs a lingering look before rising.
Ginny was glad she and Gavin were getting a reprieve from being under someone’s constant surveillance. The emotional toll going to the island was going to be tough enough without having to pretend an objectivity that wasn’t there.
