Chapter One
"Juice?" the steward asked, holding out a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice.
Amber took the cold glass and handed him back the hot, damp towel he had given her a few minutes before. It had felt wonderful wiping off her face after the long night's flight. She let the first sip of orange juice take the memory of last night's gin away. She savored the wonderful, fresh flavor.
Around her the five others were waking as the smell of coffee filled the cabin of their private jet, warming it. She didn't drink coffee in the morning, but the other five did, and she liked the smell, even welcomed it.
There were always a lot of problems with flying overseas, but at least she had made sure the plane was stocked with the best liquors and food. Dinner after they had left New York and gotten to flight altitude had actually been passable, considering she had had it brought on board from Bossons, the newest, best restaurant in all of New York City. The plane was designed to serve catered food, and the cook and steward had somehow kept the meals warm and almost fresh.
But even with the good food and the good drinks, the flight from New York to wherever-they-were-now over Greece had seemed to take forever. She needed a shower, a good, comfortable bed, and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.
Why planes could not be designed to be comfortable for long flights was beyond her. She and her husband Tony had spent a lot of money for this new, state-of-the-art private jet, and it was still uncomfortable. Why would anyone think that she was supposed to sleep in a chair that pretended to be a bed, and be comfortable?
The manufacturer of their new plane had promised the chairs were the most comfortable ever designed, made for sleeping on long trips. She would have a word or two with the president of that company when they got back. To her the chair felt as if it had lumps in it under the backs of her legs. On top of that, the headrest kept catching her hair, pulling it every time she moved, and the leather was of a low grade that stuck to her skin after a few hours. The man who designed those seats clearly must think that sleeping on a pile of rocks was heaven.
Amber moved her neck from side to side, trying to get at least a few of the kinks out. At one point during the night she had woken up with her head cocked sideways and drool on the pillow. She had had to ask for another pillow from the steward and go wash her face before she could even think of trying to get more sleep on that torture chair.
Around her the others were wiping off their faces, sipping coffee, and getting ready to land. The steward began picking up strewn blankets and locking cabinets, getting the cabin secured.
Across the aisle, Tony put a pillow away in a side compartment and started folding up a blanket. He was always doing that sort of thing, not leaving the small things for the servants to pick up as she thought he should. Every time she had mentioned it to him, he just shrugged and said nothing. He hadn't been born into money as she had. She had finally come to accept that because of that difference in background, she would never be able to teach him some things about the finer sides of being rich, the most important being "let someone else do it."
Tony had taken off his suit coat after dinner last night and opened his shirt collar. With his hair mussed from the long night, he looked almost sexy. Put together, yet not. That was the perfect look for him. Too bad she couldn't get him to dress and look like that more often. Even with the best suits and shoes, he always combed his hair flat, buttoned everything, and usually looked just a little too uptight for her tastes. Sometimes she wondered what she had ever seen in him.
Behind Tony was Michael, and beyond Michael was Todd. Both were good friends of Tony's, but neither was as rich, or as handsome, in her opinion. It seemed she and Tony were always taking the two of them, plus Michael's wife, Marina, along on these excursions. Tony called the group the drunk five, since most of the trips included a few nights of excessive drinking.
She didn't mind the group, actually. They had had their laughs and, in fact, she liked Marina, who was sitting in the back of the cabin. Marina had good taste, was from a fine Boston family, and could shop with the best of them.
Because of Marina's background, Amber often found herself pushing for that one special difference that only her money could buy. She knew it when she was doing it but so far hadn't stopped. Marina could outclass her, but Amber had the money that could buy class. And if Amber had her choice, she'd take the money any day.
Todd always seemed to be the problem person on the trips, and this time was turning out to be no exception. He was often crude, and never failed to irritate Amber by his choice of low-class dates. This trip he had brought along a very young, very stupid girl named Debi. Clearly Todd's attraction to her was below the neck, since there was nothing above Debi's neck besides a little too much makeup, blond hair, and empty blue eyes.
Amber had no idea where he met these girls, or if he was paying for them to come along, and she didn't really want to know. But so far not a one of them had lasted longer than a few weeks in Todd's life.
Halfway through last night's meal on the plane, Amber had decided that not even Todd would pay for Debi. No one would pay good money for a date who was as stupid as Debi seemed to be. At the airport, Michael, joking around, had convinced Debi that the only reason Tony had bought this new plane was because Amber wanted extra luggage space.
Amber had to admit that the extra luggage space had been a factor in buying this new jet, but not that much of one. It sure hadn't been the seats. But Debi had completely believed him about Amber's reason for buying a new jet.
Saying Debi was dumb was complimenting her.
Amber moved her head to the right, pulling on her left shoulder with her right hand, doing an exercise her trainer had shown her how to do. The exercise succeeded in releasing another kink in her neck, but nothing more. She wasn't looking forward to the flight home on these chairs. Maybe the chairs could be replaced during the two weeks they would be on the yacht. She'd talk to Tony about it later.
Amber yawned, letting her ears pop, as the pilot warned them to buckle up for landing. It was going to be good to get some fresh air and try to at least work out the knots in her back muscles from the long night. She had demanded a fully equipped gym where they were going. She was going to need it.
She took the last sip of her orange juice and handed the glass back to the steward.
Outside the light seemed extra bright, the air clear. She could see rock-covered mountains in the distance, with short olive trees and white buildings scattered up the slopes like white sand on a brown blanket. It looked like Greece. Nothing new. She'd been here at seventeen and then again five years ago. The first time was exciting, the second time boring. This time Tony had promised her something really new and exciting. They were going to be exploring islands on a cruise from Greece to Italy. She had to admit it did sound like fun, but not something she would call exciting.
The plane touched down gently and braked. Outside the window she could see shacks and maintenance hangars along the runway. A few of the shacks even had laundry hanging on clotheslines.
She turned away. There was nothing that interested her about living poorly. She knew people did, but she didn't care.
"You getting excited?" Tony asked, smiling at her as he buckled his seat belt.
"Yeah, sure," she said, ignoring her seat belt and staring at where the steward was sitting at the front near the closed cockpit door.
This trip had been T
