Page 44 of Their Courtesan
Chapter 12
MIGUEL
The fresh air was only comparable to the crisp feel of the water as it splashed against Miguel’s hand.Been to long since I felt something as nice as this.He wouldn’t say that water flowed in his veins instead of blood, but a Monegasque had some standards to keep up.
The marina was something he had longed to visit since moving into town, but work – and play – had kept him from it. That Thursday, however, he had the afternoon off and fully intended to take stock of the actual city around him.
Aimee was off with the new friends she had made. Miguel didn’t need her today, although he might need her later if he decided to buy a boat and required someone to help him sort through the paperwork. Aimee was a star at organization. So was Miguel, but it was much nicer to hire someone to do it for him so he could concentrate on other things. Like life on the open seas… even if the sea was a little ways away.
The river was huge, though, and boats meandered up and down the current. Not just motor boats and yachts, either. Barges carrying precious economic cargo headed either toward the sea or the factories farther upriver. Of course, there were quite a few hobbyists at the dock, and tourists pointed to this million-dollar yacht and that speedy little fishing boat.I don’t think I would want to go fishing around here, though.Who knew what those barges trailed behind them.
Miguel was dressed down for the first time in a long while. Loose-fitting khakis and a breezy cotton shirt kept him warm and cool at the same time… and the labels showed that he was a man of means, even if only fellow rich folk like him would notice them. Some of his compatriots back home liked to go out in cotton shorts and tank tops. They liked getting dirty. But Miguel was out to possibly buy, and needed to make sure he looked the part.
The marina was plenty large, with multiple rows of private access docks that could only be accessed with a keycard. A man could hop in the water and climb aboard, but that was for less scrupulous characters. The electronic gates leading to each dock gave men a semblance of protection that they would pay any amount to have.
I’ll pass on the monsters.One end of the marina was inhabited by huge multimillion yachts that probably made Forbes lists. While Miguel could appreciate them, he was more into the smaller, sportier yachts… like the one he came upon called the St. Jude.
Sounds familiar.Anything that made him think of Judith as of late was good enough for him.
A prim For Sale sign hung by the security keypad.“Call the following number if you are interested: tours by appointment only.”
“Hey, stranger! In the market for a vessel? Or are you checking out the wares?”
That voice came from above. Miguel looked up, to the neighboring yacht, and saw a man near his age hanging over the edge. Scruffy black hair. Blue polo shirt. A large Rolex that said he liked to get wet on his boat – otherwise he would be wearing a much more expensive watch.Because no man wears his nicest watch on his vessel if he intends to get dirty.Miguel liked him already.
His small yacht was calledPriss & Moan,which made Miguel bite back a laugh lest he make an ass out of himself on one of the most expensive docks in the world. “I may be in the market.”
“Whoa! Nice accent.” The yachtsman pressed a button, lowering a polished wooden ladder to the dock.Is he coming down? Or am I going up?Miguel didn’t want to be presumptuous. “What’s your name, stranger? New in town? Or just visiting?”
“Miguel Bolivar, if you please. I moved here.”
“Bolivar? The Spanish Bolivars?”
“Close.” Miguel grinned. “Monaco.”
“Monaco! So you’rethatbranch of the Bolivar tree? I’m already not worthy. Care to come up and class my humble abode up a bit?”
Still chuckling, Miguel helped himself onto the sturdy ladder and made a quick jaunt of it. At his height, it was easy to take things two at a time. By the time he was on the deck, he was already shaking the owner’s hand. Firm grip. Excellent. “Sorry. Didn’t catch your name.”
“Zachary Feldman. You wouldn’t have heard of my family. Peasants, compared to yours.”
“I highly doubt that. You’ve got the upper hand on me around here. I don’t know anyone.”
“You can afford to know anyone.” Zachary pulled open the nearest cabin door. “How about a beer? The weather is too good to pass up a beer.”
“Sure.”
“Any preference?”
“Citrus, if it’s available.”
Zachary disappeared for a few minutes, leaving Miguel to stand on the deck and survey the marina from a new level.It truly is beautiful around here.Maybe he was in a honeymoon phase still. Not that he ever expected to be in a honeymoon phasehere,but… some things changed the colors of the sky and made the imposing skyscrapers on the other side of the river not look so imposing after all.Yeah, I can take over all those businesses. Leave it to me.Was that Spanish bravado? Or general European bravado? Some would say it was both.
When his host returned, it was with two tall glasses of ale. They stood at the railing overlooking the river and enjoyed their drinks in quiet. Until Zachary couldn’t stand it anymore, anyway.
“So what brings you to our fair city? Investment or hostile takeover?”
Miguel grinned into his drink. “A little bit of both.”
