Chapter 3 Three

*Bing! Bing! Bing!*

I jolt my head out of bed. Where am I? What time is it? What day is it? I look at my digital alarm clock and see the time: 8:30AM. My heart begins to race. I realize that today is Saturday. Then the fateful events of yesterday come rushing back into my head.

Mr. Peak is sending a car for me at 9 AM. I can't disappoint the billionaire hedge fund boss. What my day will be like is a total mystery to me. As I jump into the shower, my mind races with millions of possibilities. Why is he sending a car? Where are we going? Maybe I will be seeing his house. I have never been in a billionaire's mansion before. Hell, I don't think I have even been in a millionaire's home either.

As I jump out of the shower, I fall into an immediate panic. I have nothing to wear! My closet is a mess of dirty clothes, jeans, shirts, a few dresses and an avalanche of shoes, heels and sneakers.

Since Mr. Peak is my boss, I opt for something formal and colorless. Black and white does not offend anyone. I put on my black dress with my last white blouse. It's 8:50. Fuck! I don't have time to do my hair the way I want it. I keep my make-up tasteful and opt for pink lipstick. Red will be a little too much. But maybe Mr. Peak will like a little red on me? Oh God, I don't have the time to debate lipstick inside of my own head!

It's 9AM. I'm never ready on time. I walk out the door with my black Prada heels in my hands. I look around for a car. I'm thinking that Mr. Peak will have me picked up in a black Town Car. The Saturday morning garbage truck pick-up rumbles up and down the alleyway behind my Venice Beach apartment.

As the garbage truck passes by my place, I put on my heels. When the truck passes, I see a large silver sedan pull up in the alleyway. Oh my God. Is that a Rolls-Royce?! I have seen them around Rodeo Drive. You don't see those cars around Venice Beach.

I walk down the stairs. The driver gets out. He is an Asian man dressed in a sharp black suit. "Hello Ms. Salamuri," the driver says as he opens the door for me. I want to ask him a million questions. Instead, I keep my mouth shut and get inside of the car.

The driver doesn't waste a second. He trots back into the driver's seat and takes off. I look around the the interior of this car. This doesn't even look like the inside of a car. I feel like I am inside someone's home.

I notice my reflection in front of me. It takes me a few seconds to see the glass divider between myself and the driver. The driver speeds onto Venice Boulevard, headed towards Santa Monica. Perhaps we are going back to the office and Mr. Peak is simply kind enough to offer me a ride? No, I think there is something else going on here. Dammit. I just need to sit back and enjoy being in the backseat of a $400,000 car.

Right now, I'm not as nervous as I was an hour ago. Sitting inside this exquisite automobile can really calm a girl. I lean back and look out of the window. As we sit at a light, I notice all the other drivers staring at the Rolls-Royce They are probably wondering who is sitting back here. For a moment, I actually start to feel like a rich and important human being. I like the feeling!

The Rolls-Royce turns onto Lincoln Boulevard. It's obvious now that we are not headed towards the office. I keep looking at the other drivers as they gawk at the ultra-luxury sedan. I really don't want this feeling to end.

The driver makes a right turn right onto Ocean Park Boulevard, headed east away from the ocean. Perhaps Mr. Peak lives in Beverly Hills or Bel-Air? Maybe I am headed to his mansion? My insides begin to tingle with anticipation.

The car begins to slow down and make a turn into an unfamiliar place. Where is this? I look up and see a sign that says,Welcome to Santa Monica Municipal Airport. As a resident of Venice Beach, I am used to seeing the private jets fly overhead as they depart and land at this little airstrip. It's a place where all the rich and famous keep their private jets. And I certainly never thought I would have any business being here.

The Rolls-Royce parks next to an aircraft hangar. The driver gets out and opens the door for me. I step out of the car and look at the driver. He leads me to the front of the hangar where I see Mr. Peak with his as**sistant.

The billionaire is wearing wraparound sunglasses. He looks even more imposing than yesterday. Mr. Peak is talking to his as**sistant. Then the billionaire looks right at me and motions for me to come over. I get so excited that I want to run right into his arms.

"Good morning, Sarah," Mr. Peak says to me.

"Good morning, Sir."

"We should be going in about ten minutes."

"Going where?"

"We are headed to Maui."

Maui?! I don't even have a change of clothes. I begin to get all flustered. The as**sistant directs a couple of baggage handlers to a large private jet about a hundred yards away from us. Mr. Peak is tapping messages into his iPhone. As he focuses on his phone, he says to me, "Don't worry about a change of clothing. All of that will be provided for you."

I smile. It looks like we are headed on some sort of vacation. Well, all he had to do was ask. I begin to get very comfortable. Heck, I am almost playful at this point. I look up at the six-foot five billionaire and ask, "So what are we going to do in Maui?"

Mr. Peak places his right hand on my back and leads me to the jet. "We are going on a business trip. It won't feel like one. But, trust me, I don't fly thousands of miles out of pure recreation. This is going to be your first and last chance to prove your worth to me."

Those final words shook me. That fleeting moment of fear is quickly diminished when Mr. Peak leads me aboard his private jet. Much to my surprise, he allows me to board first. This is his first real act of chivalry. Perhaps this is turning into a relationship of mutual respect. Yeah, right. I'm his boss. And in every respect, I am his bitch.

When I step onboard the jet, this stunning Nordic goddess of a woman welcomes me. She must be about six feet tall with platinum blonde hair and impossibly long legs. In short, this stewardess is super-model beautiful. I am jealous.She is not going to make a move on my man.

The stewardess welcomes me aboard with a wide smile. I give her a guarded nod and look around at the most opulent interior of any aircraft I have ever seen in my life. The jet is looks like it cost more than what I could possibly make in a lifetime.

Mr. Peak comes onboard. He is so tall that his head nearly touches the ceiling of the craft. He makes his way to a big, leather chair near the rear of the plane. I grab the seat right across from him. I wish I could be sitting closer.

Right when I sit down, that tall blonde stewardess serves Mr. Peak a drink. That bitch, I bet she is going to make a move on him. She is so f**king gorgeous it is starting to piss me off. Dammit. I need to calm down. After all, Mr. Peak said this is going to be a business trip.

My billionaire boss turns off his phone and focuses his concentration on his drink. However, he doesn't place the glass towards his lips. "May I serve you a drink?" the tall stewardess asks me.

"I'll have a Rum & Coke."