The street was strangely deserted. It seemed as if everyone had mysteriously disappeared, as had happened with a ship and its passengers. Chris couldn't remember its name. Somewhere farther along the curb, a minivan with an open trailer and a boat tied to it, parked on a small trailer. Someone must have been visiting the family living in the house in front of which the car was parked. Locals kept all their boats in the dock.
After a few minutes of slow walking, Chris found himself in front of Pres's house. It was a large, two-story villa with a large terrace in front. At the back, it had a rather spacious patio and a swimming pool. He walked up to the large oak door and rang the bell. He heard the melody echoing through the house, but no one came to answer him, despite his repeated attempts. He stepped down from the terrace and slowly began to circle the house. His intuition told him that in this heat, Pres would only be found in one place. He was right. As he stepped onto the patio, he heard the soft sound of water. Pres was swimming in the pool, constantly changing his stroke. He didn't notice his friend. Chris, without interrupting him, sat down in one of the patio chairs set up by the pool. On the table next to him were several bottles of soda and three glasses, one half-full of pink soda. The others were placed upside down. Chris grabbed one, set it next to him, then chose a Coke and poured himself a full glass. He drank half and set the rest aside for later.
Pres slowly slowed his pace across the pool. When he finally finished, he surfaced and, without noticing Chris, climbed out of the pool using the ladder. He only saw him as he reached for a towel lying on the edge.
"Have you been here long?" he asked, his surprise subsiding. He slowly began to dry himself off with a towel.
"About 32 pools." "Cheers."
Pres walked over to the table, picked up the glass, and drank the remaining half. Then, exhausted, he settled into the other armchair next to Chris.
"Oh my! This heat is unbearable!
" "I know. But I saw a bit of wind on my way to your place," Chris said with a satisfied expression.
"I'd be happier with a hurricane than 40 degrees in the shade. I hope it cools down soon, or I'll die.
" "Don't whine," he scolded. "Have you talked to Collins?
" Pres looked at him.
"Yes. He promised he'd look for something, but I can't guarantee anything."
Jeremy Collins was the owner of a local 24-hour cable station and also the head of Pres. He inherited the company from his father, who had made a name for himself by launching several successful and popular television series. Toward the end of Collins's life, ratings began to slowly decline, and the company began to lose millions of dollars in capital, spending money on ever-increasing, pointless commercials. However, his son turned out not to be the freeloader his father had assumed. He revived the station, which was falling into disrepair, by producing several television programs. Within a few months, KML became the most watched television station in North Carolina.
Pres was lucky enough to become one of the hosts of Collins' latest project: "Extreme," where contestants competed for $50,000. This led to him becoming more recognizable than Collins himself.
"Good," Chris admitted, pouring himself a drink. He took a sip.
"How are our friends doing?" Pres finally asked.
Chris straightened in his chair and turned to his friend.
"Just like usual. You know Julie broke up with Daniel, so now we know what's coming.
" "Leaving again?" Pres guessed.
"She's already packing!" Chris snapped. "And she's only leaving in four days. I'm telling you, man, I don't understand why she keeps running away from her worries."
The boy didn't answer, just shook his head slightly.
"Maybe there's a way," he said after a few moments. "Leave all your problems behind, go far away from this place, analyze the past, and make a decision about the future."
After these words, they both fell into a reverie. Chris wondered where he would have to go if he had such problems. He would probably choose Australia, the home of kangaroos. He smiled at the thought.
"Brauni and Arthur are up to something!" "He uttered the words so suddenly that Pres almost screamed, startled out of his reverie about how he'd love to move to some frosty country. In fact, he was already starting to feel a slight chill around his body.
"What do you mean?" he asked resignedly.
"They were acting strange when I saw them today. They were leaving the jeweler's with a small package.
" "Maybe they're together," the boy suggested.
"No!" He denied immediately, standing up. "Brauni is with Peter. Their story about tie clips didn't convince me...
" "You know what, buddy?" Pres interrupted. "You're becoming the next Oprah Winfrey, meaning you're too curious. "
Chris smiled, showing his white teeth.
"Maybe." He admitted, then headed along the pool, toward the garden exit. "For now, buddy, we'll call you."
"Hang in there!" Pres said.
When his friend disappeared behind the building, he rose lazily from his wicker armchair, picked up a towel lying next to the table, and began drying himself off more thoroughly. He still needed to shower before heading to the gas station, but for now, he wanted to laze around a bit more.
He slipped on his black flip-flops and headed toward the house. He opened the glass doors leading from the patio to the large living room. Once inside, he walked over to the couch in front of the large television, which he turned on with the remote. One of his programs appeared on the screen. Pres smiled to himself and walked into the kitchen, directly adjacent to the living room. It was very spacious and cleverly organized. He opened the refrigerator and took out a bottle of orange juice and a bottle of vodka he'd been chilling since morning. From one of the cabinets, he took a cocktail glass and mixed himself a drink.
With the glass full, he headed to the couch.
***
It was approaching noon when Arthur escorted Brauni to the house. In the garden, her mother, dressed in shorts and a tank top, was watering flowers hanging from the railing surrounding the terrace.
"Good morning, Mrs. Hail," Arthur greeted her.
The woman looked up and saw her daughter with a familiar, tall boy.
"Oh, hello, Arthur," she replied with a radiant smile, then returned to her work.
Brauni gave him a surprised look.
"Oh, I see you're really changing. You were the first one to say nothing before."
He shrugged, looking down at his feet.
"People change.
" "Tell me more!" she said with a smile, brushing a lock of light brown hair from her face. "Can you tell me why you chose this particular jewel for her?"
She pointed at the box he still held in his hand.
"This may sound strange, but I think it perfectly reflects her personality."
Brauni grimaced, uncomprehending.
"The thing is," he began hurriedly, "she's something of a saint to me. Just as this pendant has five stones, she too has five distinctive qualities: Sensitivity, honesty, boundless friendship, kindness, and above all, a big heart.
" "Okay. I understand," she interrupted him, feeling a bit offended and jealous.
Arthur quickly realized he'd made a blunder, so after a moment he added,
"Of course, she's not the only person with such qualities, but it's her—"
He stopped, afraid to say too much. He wasn't used to talking about his feelings to anyone other than Julie.
"I'll go now," he said, feeling Brauni's curious gaze on him. "Round up the team, like we agreed."
He left her at the garden entrance and left.
"See you tonight," she said to him.
He simply waved in response, not bothering to turn around.
The girl, shaking her head, went into the garden and then onto the terrace, stopping beside her mother.
"Hi, Mom!
" "Hi, honey," the woman replied warmly, setting down the watering can. "Did you have a good time?"
The girl nodded, smiling broadly. After a moment, she spoke.
"I'm going to the Whopper Yacht Party tonight, can I?
" "I don't know," her mother said reluctantly. "Who's going to be there?
" "All my friends: Julie, Chris, Arthur, Daniel, Pres, and Anna.
" "Anna? Chris's sister?" her mother asked, sitting down in one of the white garden chairs.
"Yes!" she confirmed, standing by the front door. "Can I?
" "Will no one else be with you?"
"No, Mom. It'll be a rather intimate party. Just a small group of friends."
Mrs. Hail seemed lost in thought. But when a smile appeared on her face, the girl knew she'd succeeded.
"Then I don't see any problems." She patted her head affectionately.
"Thanks, Mom!" she said spontaneously and hugged her. "I have to make some more calls."
They began walking down a dark hallway that ended in a small living room, from which doors led to the kitchen and bathroom. There was also a wide spiral staircase leading to the upper floor.
"Did Dad call?" Brauni asked as she began climbing the stairs to her room.
"Not yet, but he should in a few hours," her mother said, entering the kitchen. "At least, I hope so.It was nearly two in the afternoon when Arthur pulled up in his car to his father's office. He got out, locked the silver BMW convertible, and stepped through the sliding doors into the cool interior of the green glass skyscraper overlooking the waters surrounding Cape Hatteras.
The building differed from the rest of the town, which was built in the old colonial style, dominated by brick or shingled buildings. The twenty-five-story cylindrical building was impressive from a distance, but the lobby of the Whopper's Cape headquarters was beyond imagination. Anyone who entered it craned their necks to gaze up at the top of the atrium, gazed at the waterfalls and aquariums filled with exotic fish, and then gazed at the large globe rising from the center of the green marble floor.
Arthur walked through the vast lobby, past groups of tourists led by guides in immaculate uniforms. An attractive young woman, one of several receptionists behind the long information desk, smiled charmingly as Arthur approached.
"Good morning, Mr. Whopper."
"Hello, Liz," he said friendly, pausing at her desk. "Is your father upstairs?
" "I'll check." She picked up the phone.
"Don't tell him I'm here, or he'll make up another meeting!"
Liz nodded and began talking to the company president's secretary.
When she finished, she informed Arthur that his father was in the office and didn't have any appointments scheduled. He thanked her, giving her a smile, and then went to the elevators at the side of the lobby. He pressed the elevator button. The air seemed charged with electricity. Everyone who wasn't a tourist was carrying a laptop or carrying an elegant briefcase. The elevator opened empty, Arthur stepped in, pressed the button, and took off into the sky, to the top floor. This was the office of Nathan Whopper. A man who had made a considerable fortune in oil exploration. Besides West Point, he also had offices in West Virginia and Michigan.
Nathan was talking on the phone when the door to his large office opened and Arthur entered. A short secretary followed, trying to usher him back to the waiting room.
"Please, Mr. Whopper, wait until your father finishes talking..." She paused as the boy settled into the chair in front of his father's desk.
The older man gave him a disapproving look, then returned to the caller.
"Frank, I'll call you in about ten minutes," he said into the receiver, nodding several times before hanging up.
He placed the receiver back on the cradle, then looked back at his smiling son.
"Mr. Whopper, I tried to stop him, but..." the secretary began, her tone laced with humility and embarrassment, but the man cut her off with a wave of his hand.
"I know, I know, Caroline. It's okay. Go back to your work."
The girl excused herself and left the room, closing the wide door behind her.
Before Arthur could say anything, his father asked,
"What do you want this time?" The words came out harshly. "Run out of money again?"
Arthur smiled. He was used to his own father treating him like a freeloader. He hadn't always been like this, actually. But when the boy's mother died, he felt he'd lost not only her, but him as well.
"Not this time, Father. You gave me the money yesterday," he said calmly. "This time it's about renting a yacht for tonight.
" "The Tabernacle?"
"Yes, unless you have another ship I don't know about."
It wasn't a common request, but it had happened before. So Nathan agreed without much hesitation, as long as his son would leave him alone.
"I'll call the dock and tell them you'll be on the yacht today."
"Okay, but do it now. I asked you last time, and you forgot. I'd rather be sure." He spoke in a calm, yet firm tone. "And give the staff today and tomorrow off."
Father sighed heavily, then picked up the phone and said
, "Caroline?
" "Yes, sir?" the voice said.
"Put me through to the dock and ask the caretaker at the Tabernacle to call me back."
He received a confirmation, then hung up.
"What is it this time? A wild party or a wild party?" he asked with a wry smile.
"A small party with friends. I want to apologize to Julie," he replied, rising from his chair. He began pacing the spacious room, whose walls were paneled in alder wood.
"Oh, Julie again. What are you talking about, are you in love or something?" The office phone rang. "Maybe that would be a good thing. She would finally change you."
He answered the phone and told his caller to get the yacht ready for the night and give the crew the day off. When he finished, he looked at his son, who was leaning his hands on the desk.
"Done," he said.
"Thanks, Daddy," Arthur said contemptuously. "As for Julie, she's my friend. She knows more about me than you do. And I'm not the one who needs replacing!"
He turned and left the office, slamming the door. "
I love you too," his father whispered softly, then ordered his secretary to reconnect him with the previous caller. As all the weather forecasts had predicted, the temperature cooled slightly in the afternoon. It was still muggy and hot, but the sun wasn't shining as fiercely as it had a few hours ago. The clock was striking two when Julie left the house and locked the door. She had changed out of her morning outfit. She was now wearing tight-fitting black jeans and a sleeveless white blouse, most of which was sheer lace. She called Piper over. The dog trotted over happily, wagging its tail. She scooped it up and headed for the property next door. The cottage looked very much like her own. However, it was a different color, and a few minor changes had been made. Julie climbed the steps and knocked on the door. She didn't have to wait long. An elderly woman appeared in the doorway, smiling from ear to ear. Time had carved deep lines into her face, and her hair had turned from raven black to gray. "Hello, dear," the woman chirped at the sight of her neighbor. "Good morning, Mrs. Holbrooke. " "Come in, come in. Don't just stand there." She ushered her through the door and led her to the kitchen
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