Taking a seat on a chair in the corner of the room, I made it clear I was there for a longer conversation. My sisters had their chance to win Amanda over, now I wanted to have my say.
“Let’s talk–”
“I can’t believe you dragged me along on your honeymoon,” she complained with a smirk.
“Actually, it’s still our wedding,” I teased. “The honeymoon hasn’t even started yet.”
Edging a little closer to me, Amanda lowered her voice. “How much sex do you guys have?”
“About once a day… At least.”
Amanda’s eyes went wide, and her voice went low. “Really? Elle said you were a stud… But I always thought you were a bit dorky; despite the relatively good looks.”
“Relatively?” I smirked.
“Compared to them, everyone is only relatively good looking. Nothing can match. Especially Elle… She’s… Nevermind.”
Getting to her feet, the cheerleader set the book she’d been holding down on her bedside table. She was clearly puzzling out my reason for coming to her room, and she’d no doubt sensed my sisters’ attempts at matchmaking.
Perhaps neither of us understood their psyche, but I could give Amanda an interpretation.
“Our world is becoming very small,” I explained. “We travel a lot, but we keep to ourselves. Mostly. Of course, there are the staff and my cousin — sometimes even our mother — but they’re closer to me than they are to the girls.”
“That’s sad…”
“You can help,” I offered. “If they had a friend by their side — someone their own age — it might be an excellent thing.”
“This feels more like a recruitment than it does an invitation.”
“Travel, money, clothes… Being our friend comes with a lot of perks,” I confessed. “That said, you should know that the girls love you, and they want you to play a part in their life.”
Amanda bit into her lip, intrigued by the fantasy of wealth and access. But she had concerns. “I can get on board with a lot of things, Oliver, but I can’t get past the fact that you’re bad for this world. Your type are bad for this world.”
Shaking my head, I was disappointed in Amanda’s decision to revert to antagonism. This young woman genuinely hated me. She was convinced that I was ‘an okay guy’ but also abhorrently evil.
In the past, the money had made people gravitate toward me. Now, it made someone push not just me away, but my sisters too.
Twins fascinate people — twin girls especially. Even the most heterosexual of women (which Amanda wasn’t) can’t help but feel butterflies when a pair of them show interest. Especially a good-looking pair. Money also fascinates people; sex fascinates; power, luxury and raw charisma too… Yet, Amanda was unmoved, due to some deep-seated dislike of me or people like me.
If she wouldn’t do it for her friends and she wouldn’t do it for the above, I knew she’d never do it at all. I only hoped that Elle wouldn’t take it too hard, and that Tecla wouldn’t despise it.
We’re all entitled to our choices, and I let her stick to her own. As I left Amanda’s room, I found Alicia and Skylar standing a few feet away; waiting for me.
“We’re arranging a doctor, sir. You’ve been coughing and sniffling all morning.”
“I have?” I asked, suddenly realising I had a runny nose and sore throat. I guessed my fixation on family and business had me seeing past it. As always, those things came first — my own health second.
I insisted, “I’m perfectly fine.”
Skylar turned to Alicia and gave a knowing look. “See? Men….”
“What Skylar means, sir–”
I cut short Alicia’s post hoc justification, aimed at excusing talk she thought was inappropriate from an employee. But I didn’t mind. Sky had a point.
“I guess I should get something for this cough.”
My chief of staff was thankful. “We’ll make immediate arrangements.”
An hour later, we heard the approach of a helicopter. Alicia had asked for cough syrup, but our hosts weren’t taking any chances. The helicopter landed and a dozen men and women in white coats disembarked.
Heading into a subterranean room, I crowded into the villa’s clinic — designed for the president — as the doctors began prodding at me. My Spanish was poor, and their whispering made it harder for me to understand, but I could tell they were floating some truly preposterous theories.
“Radiation poisoning?” the one mused, now speaking in English for my benefit.
Another doctor jumped in, “No, the symptoms fit better with a more primitive chemical weapon.”
“Yes,” another agreed. “We should contact our friends in Moscow and have a team sent over.”
“Not enough time. Let’s get Colonel Fernandez from the army over here. He deals with this sort of thing,” another doctor asserted.
As the medical team spoke, they kept poking at me; checking my blood pressure once every few minutes and tapping at my abdomen. All the while, the theories only grew more outlandish, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
After the attempt on my life, I became paranoid. But this bunch were taking it to the next level!
Getting to my feet, I made a suggestion of my own. “Maybe I’ve been travelling a lot, sleeping irregularly, facing stress… It’s not absurd to think my immune system is a bit weak and I have a cold! Now, can I please get something for my sore throat?”
The medical team convened in Spanish again as I shook my head and watched them scratch theirs. They were conditioned to live in a world of severe danger, spies, tricks, and atomic intrigue. I also had a feeling that being the president’s guest meant there were consequences if they missed something in my diagnosis. So, it took them about 20 minutes to settle on the obvious fact that I wasn’t dying of some Cold War concoction that had been fired at me from an umbrella gun.
The general practitioner among the bunch explained what meds I’d have to take. “You must also deal with your stress in a constructive manner. Meditation and massage, along with other mindfulness exercises. Are there particular colouring books you enjoy?”
“Colouring books?” I toyed with the idea a little in my head. “I don’t know, doc… But it sounds like it could be a bit of fun. At the very least, it sounds relaxing.”
“We will send a small selection by helicopter. There are several massage therapists available. We have both men and women, depending on your preference, along with acupuncturists, yogis and chefs who specialise in healthy eating.”
I assured the doctor my people could handle everything, but asked that he send the books over.
With everything settled, each doctor offered me a handshake as they went back to their helicopter. It was a wild experience that I wouldn’t soon forget and, in a way, I was tempted to live on the island forever. They had my best interests at heart; whether because I had money they sorely needed or a connection with their ruler’s son.
Before they left completely, I asked, “Any psychiatrists here?”
One older doctor raised her hand. I asked her to stay behind. She was the closest thing to an objective voice as I’d ever get. Having seen Amanda’s reaction, having committed to our new life… I wanted to make sure I wasn’t hurting the girls.
Amanda’s hatred — or what seemed like hatred — had a big effect on me. I wanted affirmation, or just an independent opinion.