It’s a warm summer’s day in mid-July. I am swimming in the sea with no land in sight. I am swimming viscously around in red water. I hold my breath and ducked down, opening my eyes to the red sea.
She was nowhere to be found. My eyes are burning. I can’t see, I can’t see!! I wiggled my feet, swimming as fast as possible, reaching the bearer between the water and the sunny air, yelling, where are you! where are you! “Blue, Blue”!! My words echoed in my mind.
My eyesight slowly came back blurry, but I could still tell that something was floating a few meters away from me, “BLUE!” I ducked down again, this time keeping my eyes closed. I swam a few meters, and as I reached the surface, there it was, her Sunhat gracefully laying on top of the bloody water beneath me.
I immediately awakened – drenched in sweat to the unbearable sound of my Nokia ringing on high volume.
I was sleeping with my head out the window, my face burning from the sun, my eyes scratched with red strains across his face. I caught a light breeze and reached for the ringing phone.
Caller ID: BEN BAILEY. I shook my head to shake off the sleepiness and answered.
“Good morning, Paul, ready for an adventure?” Ben said in a dark, cocky voice. I swear I could hear him smirking through the phone.
Ben was my colleague and close family friend. We lived on different continents but kept in touch by going on the most exciting, adventurous trips together. I just turned 32, and Ben was 10 years older than me, but that didn’t make any difference – I was an old soul, and he was definitely young at heart.
Our families had been friends for as long as I can remember. It all started with our great-great-grandfathers, Jack Bailey and Ari Sandelin. They met in 1864 in the army, fighting the South in the Civil War.
In 1865, when the war was over, they wanted to get away from the past in North Carolina and start a new life in the South Hamptons. They bought land right next to the beach and built the JABS HOUSE. The name was based on their initials, so the families would remember their forefathers and why they came together in the first place.
“What do you say, Paul?” Ready for a new adventure? It’s been a while” Ben challenged.
“I have been ready for some time now. I’ve just been waiting for your slow ass,” I replied.
” Just because you drive 300 miles an hour doesn’t mean I am slow!” Ben complained.
“HA, HA, HA!” I laughed out loud ... It was funny how Ben always made me sound like Mr. Big Shot.
Ben changes his outfit five times a day and spends at least 45 minutes in the shower – leaving me with cold showers and a lot of waiting around reading Car & Driver magazines. Sometimes, I even finish half a novel while he is in the bathroom showering.
I know what you’re thinking “What the hell was he doing in there?” I guess we’ll never know.
I had gotten so used to the waiting that I started treating it like a game. How many pages could I finish before it was my turn to jump in the cold shower? My record was the novel Death Be Not Proud by John J. Gunther, With as many as 196 pages. The story was about a kid with a tumor and how he spent his last couple of mounts on earth.
Ben walked out of the bathroom, freshly clean, two hours before our evening began. Your turn Sherlock! Ben smugly said as he pulled the towel around his waist.
This is the benefit of having a bougie friend. I thought to myself, I learn a new skill. While he has plenty of time to figure out what I am going to wear, he’s always ready waaay too early.
It’s almost like I have my very own personal stylist.
Ben and I went on 6 –10 trips a year; if there was anything amazing happening anywhere in the world, you bet we’d be there! We met a lot of beautiful ladies along the way, but we were such bastards. We never got anywhere and were hopeless at finding true love.
On dates, the women excuse themselves to powder their nose and talk about us bastards behind our backs while we are more discreet and waited until we got home.
As teenagers, Ben and I celebrated every summer together at the JABS House – our forefather’s family home. After my father died of lung cancer in 1981, our families kind of drifted apart.
Dad was the glue holding us together. He made the calls and invited the family on trips to different events. Usually, it was the same auto race events every year, but it kept us close. The trips included a lot of work for everyone involved, but I remembered it as being fun! But after my dad died, no one took his place – until Ben decided to change that in 1986.
Back then, I had just won my first auto race in Arizona for the NASCAR Cup, and Ben came up to congratulate me. We sat down at the local diner and shared stories from the years we had been absent from each other’s lives…
Ben had finished engineering school and just started DEAN Aviators, which was the subsidiary of his father’s multi-million dollar company, Bailey Enterprises.
Ben’s dad, Drew Bailey, manufactured the fastest racing cars on the tracks with his global company Belldera.
His amazing cars are the reason I hold multiple records to this day!
Our families had worked together for decades, always being a part of each other’s lives. We were the drivers, and they were the engineers. Ben loved cars just as much as his dad, but he found a sense of calm flying planes over the Atlantic.
“How quickly can you pack a suitcase?” Ben asked.
“Do I really need one? My clothes aren’t good enough for you, anyway!” I replied.
“True! Pack some underwear then and the diary you always carry around. It’s not a memorable adventure if you don’t write about it. I’ll meet you at Oslo Airport in a couple of hours. Say 9 am your time. I can’t wait to show you, my new lady. She’s taking us to Australia today.”
I hung up the phone and started packing my suitcase … books/diaries, swim shorts, dad’s old lacquer boots, and underwear. My style is low-key, except for the designer suit that Ben got me for Christmas. I grabbed the suit from the closet. It was a green slim-fitted suit, double-breasted with golden details. I packed it in a zipper bag to be sure it didn’t get wrinkled. It was the most expensive suit I had ever owned.
* Los Angeles, September 3rd, 1995
On our last trip, we went to Los Angeles, and it became Ben’s mission to teach me how to look more like a handsome gentleman. He took me to Rodeo Drive and threw most of the clothes in my suitcase away.
‘Causal’ was not a word Ben ever uttered. He liked things to be “classy” or “extravagant”. ‘Causal’ was just another word for lazy. “Your style, Paul, has to reflect who you are on the inside. Causal is not who you are, you’re a guy who drives race cars for a living, god damn it! You’re an adrenaline junkie; you make decisions like lightning through a storm. What you need are silk, layers, belts, handkerchiefs, and pocket squares. Pauly, if you want comfort, nothing can make you feel better than linen, cashmere, or wool slacks with leather boots. Let me show you,” and he threw me into the fitting room.
Ben dressed me in high-end fashion. I ended up with a designer wardrobe that varied from dark and masculine to colorful and lively.
When we got back to the Beverly Hills Hotel, I collapsed on the king-size bed in our suite while Ben poured us a glass of whiskey on the rocks.
“Now, let’s do your eyes!” he teased as he walked into the bathroom, still fully energized.
“Diana and Isabella will meet us for dinner. This is your chance to try and put something together yourself, but first, let me show you how to do your eyes.”
I stayed on the bed, thinking he must be kidding. My eyes – what was wrong with my eyes? Ben walked out of the bathroom, grabbed a chair, and sat down beside the bed.
“Look at my eyes,” Ben said. He was serious. I sat up in the bed, looking at his eyes. He pointed at his left eye.
“This eye looks defined …” then he pointed to his right eye, “… while this one doesn’t.” I just stared, dumbfounded.
“Which eye do you like the most?” Ben asked, looking clever like he already knew the answer.
“Okay; you have a nicer looking left eye. What does that have to do with mine?”
“Well, with the help of eyeliner,” he held out a black pencil, “… your eyes can look mesmerizing.”
“Look at this eye,” he said and pointed to the right eye.
“Now… watch as I apply the liner …” He put the pencil in his eye, softly dragging it from one side to the other. He did it fast and without a mirror. Like ha had done it a million times before. The pencil left a small tin line on his upper waterline. It was barely noticeable, but it gave him smoldering eyes. I could see how the line made his dark grey eyes pop and how it would pop out of the socket and into a woman’s heart, Blissfully drawing her in.
I realized I had always seen him with a liner. Still, I never thought he actually did anything to make them more attractive. I just thought they were natural. I was wrong but intrigued. After all, who doesn’t want more beautiful eyes?
The eyes are the window to the soul, but I didn’t want to poke out my eyeball for the price of more attractive eyes despite my fascination.
I am not going to put that pencil in my eye! If that is what you’re seducing?
What if I go blind? My eyes are my lively hood. If I can’t see, I can’t do my job, and If I don’t have a job, I will have to move in with you. I said, hoping Ben would be frightened I’d move in with him. Still, his mouth didn’t even seem to flinch, press together and release like they usually did when he was anxious something wouldn’t go his way.
Ben likes his privacy. He always gets a spare room when he needs to work, clear his head, or watch as the evening went from day to night. I knew because we would usually do the same thing before bed, we’d walk out on our separate balconies and sit on one of the wooden chairs beside the table—each with a glass in our hand and a wandering mind.
Thoughts about the wonder that is life and how it all came about enters our minds. We sit there gracefully looking at each other, holding up the glass for a toast, a non-verbal toast, never discussed or criticized. We have the answer to life’s mysteries and desires, all shared in a blink of an eye.
However, my effort didn’t seem to change the outcome. Ben was calm like the desert. It almost looked like he’d seen a deer, ladybug, or a mystical creator outside.
His smiling dimples became more defined as his rounded eyebrows heightened. Then Ben did what he did best: managing to convince me otherwise.. he promised I could land his - plane– if I showed up looking like the perfect gentleman for our next adventure. Then he added; The ladies love a man with defined eyes! I was sold.
What happened next? You guessed it!
I showed up to our date with Diana and Isabella wearing eyeliner. It only took a good half hour for Ben to magically get my eyes to stop watering.
There we go, now slowly blink. I slowly closed and opened my eyes. Yes, we got it; you look great, Paul. Ben applauded with a twinkle in his eye. He was proud of me for making an effort to try something new and out of my comfort zone. Ben put the pencil down on the nightstand and walked off into the bathroom to get dressed.
I knew he had something special planned for tonight. I saw it earlier this morning hanging in a black zipper bag in the bathroom. It was a sapphire blue tuxedo paired with a white shirt with black buttons and a matching black bow tie.
Ben liked Diana a lot and was eager to impress her. Diana Darc was a working model who was recently chosen to walk for Valentino. Ben wanted to congratulate her on her newfound job and told her to bring her best friend Isabella Nailah,
an international Egyptian model, and meet us at the Ivy at 7 pm for a wine and dine.
By now, you must think Ben is a bachelor, but sadly no, he is married and has a boy named Tom Boone Bailey, 10 years old.
His son and wife are truly amazing. He loves them. I know he does, but he is eager for affirmation, attention, and affection. The tree A’s that often destroy a marriage!
The man falls for the lovely woman he meets at a bar. He has a couple of drinks with her, and they end up going home together. His wife comes home early from her weekend abroad and catches him in the act.
Soon it’s all a mess, and you find yourself in the middle of a divorce. The husband suddenly regrets it all and begs for his wife back. He says to his wife it was just a momentary lapse. He made a mistake, an error in judgment, and he would never make the same one again.
But it’s a hard time we live in; often, career, money and fame comes above the family lifestyle. The staying at home making diner no longer trills a man like Ben, and then chivalry is dead, and it’s difficult to keep the momentum going.
This has not happened yet, but if it all continues this way, I bet it will. I don’t know what to do anymore. I see Quinn Bailey as a friend, the mother of my godson, and a valuable and honorable wife to my best friend. I would never betray her, but at the same time, I could never betray my best friend.
Diana and Ben met here in LA. I was surprised come to think of it when Ben said we were going to Los Angeles.
He doesn’t really like it here, though it was too much traffic and therefore too little time. So I wondered if Diana might be the reason we visited.
Not just any woman could walk for Valentino. It had to be someone extraordinary! Someone like Diana! She’s a head-turner, and not only because of her stunning appearance. No-no, she was fascinating, the way she moved her feet, always gracefully touching the ground leading with her toe ball, almost like she’d be walking on clouds. I knew cause I have seen her out and about a few times, but I have never had the pleasure of actually meeting her.
Paul, would you grab my phone? I think it’s on the desk. Ben heightened his voice, trying to compete with the loud water drops hitting the concrete bathtub.
Yeah, sure. I replied and looked around the desk besides, over and under Bens many books and files. I couldn’t find his phone anywhere on the desk, so I started looking in drawers. I opened the first drawer to my right and saw a white napkin with many scribbles on it. I was about to put It down and continue to look for the phone, but just when I was about to put I back, I turned it around and saw who it was about.
**Diana
Her neck... tall like the swan, her hair golden like the sun, the length stopping at the edge of her jaw, her mouth raw and salty, bringing attention to her v-shaped cupid’s bow, neatly placed a little to the left in the midsection of her lips, and finally, her warm brown eyes shedding light on her captivating soul. The way she answers my questions feels like she knows everything that has ever entered my mind, Diana just knows, and I am curious how. Her eyes lingering on me like she’s always been listening, waiting to tell me something to brighten my horizons.
I was taken aback by Ben’s description of Diana. He is infatuated with her. I couldn’t help but think about Quinn. What about Quinn!? I didn’t want to believe it. No woman was this amazing. It had to be the pedestal Ben put her on, but I had to see it for myself.
I wouldn't judge him, not yet. Not before I knew what was really going on. I heard a noise coming from the bathroom. I quickly put the napkin back in the drawer, exactly where I found it. I noticed the phone lying next to the napkin, picked it up and yelled, “found it!”
I reached my hand through the steaming gap in the bathroom door, and noticed a mirror reflection of Ben’s tuxedo hanging on a coat rack. Ben reached for his phone. “Thanks” he replied, closing the door behind him.
I couldn’t help but think that none of the clothes from the shopping spree would be suitable for this event. Isabella Nailah was my date, goddam it! She was famous worldwide! I couldn’t look any less handsome than Ben; I needed to take her breath away. I had to show Isabella that her fame did not bother me. I could handle it. When I look at her, I don’t see a celebrity. I see a strong, independent woman. A woman that I am going to spoil shamelessly, not with presents, but with adventure, freedom, love, and happiness.
I'm all she desires, and I know it. Haha, a little pep talk to myself. It always helps. I can't rely on Ben to help me this time. Ben's Black Closet has everything I need.
Ben’s assistant, Adam Lefroy, an aspiring fashion designer, selected all of Ben’s clothing. Ben wouldn’t even know what was in the mysterious Black Closet until he opened the door.
The wardrobe traveled with us on every trip. It was a genius invention—. a flat black box with wheels controlled with his phone, like you would use a remote control for a child's race car. Everything was folded and when we got to the hotel room, he’d simply push a button, and it would turn into the tall Black Closet. The folded clothes were on hangers freshly steamed, ready for any event.
Ben came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, threw me a bottle of water and eye cream; “stay hydrated,” he said in a commanding tone. I screwed off the top of the Evian water bottle and took a sip. “Aaahhh", I moaned loudly.
“Now, would you at least attempt to add some moisturizer under your eyes!? You are going on a date with Isabella Nailah.
You have to look fresh. Have you even chosen your cologne yet?”
I shook my head, my confidence level plummeting.
“They’re in the refrigerator.. Be careful to choose the right one, Ben cautioned. Fragrance is not what you think it is! It is not about selecting the manliest or coolest. You want to chose a fragrance that makes Isabella fall in love with you. It determines whether or not you're the man for her.”
“No problem, I got this,” I answered, trying to maintain my self-esteem. I put eye cream under my eyes in a swift motion and Chugged the water bottle then squeezed it with my strong fist, I turned my head, looking back at Ben rolling his eyes, and threw the crushed plastic in the trashcan like Michael Jordan scoring a free throw.
It was steaming in the bathroom like the Congo river when Ben showered. No wonder all the hot water was gone. It evaporated into the atmosphere.. The mirror was covered in fog, so humid that my sweater was starting to look wet. I quickly took it off, threw it in a corner, and opened the ice blue refrigerator.
I noticed the suit had disappeared from the zipper bag, and one of the perfume bottles was missing from the fridge. There were precisely twenty-two bottles of luxury perfume..
Each bottle was carefully selected by Ben’s assistant Lefroy who had privately purchased them from the lab of celebrity perfumer, Teddy Baldwin. Teddy made extraordinary Eau de Parfumes that sold worldwide. His storage was a goldmine—anyone who laid their hands on it were among the lucky elite.
Lefroy had visited Baldwin's lab for two months just to smell all the bottles he had in storage, finally landing on forty-three bottles that his nose brought to Ben’s attention.
Ben selected twenty-two he deemed perfection for special events. He paid generously for the right to own them all solitarily.
All twenty-two perfume stocks would be directly shipped and delivered by Teddy himself to the JABS house. These bottles would only be worn by Ben, myself, or any other person he wanted to gift it to. Not even Teddy himself was allowed to wear the fragrances.
Ben named each scent and labeled them under a category to show what the fragrance was intended to do for him: office, date, midnight walk, afternoon tea, morning after breakfast, romantic dinner, business meeting, hike, drive, workout, dream, chase, inspire, and the list went on...
Ben included fragrances for women that he loved to smell around the house. Every room had a different scent, as if each were a different woman. What would he like to feel or do in the room, and what would the action smell like? The more intense he felt walking into an atmosphere, the more he’d feel connected and engaged and the more he began to enjoy being in it. The top note, the heart note, and the base note all coalesced in harmonious satisfaction. Ben felt the frequency rise like a sudden rush of adrenaline, transporting him into another world; another form of existence.
He reveled in the experience he got from being in the space and it would fill him with ideas, inventions, and fantasies.. This was Bens’s recipe for success.
He stored the fragrance bottles just like Teddy did --in a refrigerator, which maintained the exact temperature of 72 degrees Fahrenheit.
When choosing the right scent for the day, he’d simply make small samples out of each one, which would fit neatly in his wallet.
Ben adapted to Baldwin’s method; “It is just as important to smell good as it is to look good. Only wearing one fragrance would be like having only one nice pair of boots. Scent is as essential to success as an entire wardrobe of clothes. "
Now it was time for me to pick out my fragrance I always dreaded this moment... I finally understood how important it was to make the right choice. I decided the most unique one must be in the very back standing alone. I reached my hand in and grabbed a bottle of green whiskey-colored fluid.
Label: Law.
Intention: Discussion won, now satisfied.
Let’s try it. I sprayed it on a test sheet. I let it breathe for a little bit, thinking it’s like whiskey. It has to breathe to embody the rich flavor, then I softly ran it under my nose, back and forth slowly.
Ingredients: Bergamot, lime, tobacco, whiskey, and orris butter, making a rich, dark, slightly fresh, but still rounded smell. Blended to perfection!
I didn’t have to look any further. I had found the one. The scent that would make Isabella's knees buckle and send a shiver up her spine.
I placed the bottle in the machine sitting next to the ice-blue refrigerator and jumped into the cold shower. I was starting to get used to the cold water flooding my hot skin. It was almost like it woke me up. I came out freshly energized, grabbed my sample from the machine, and walked out of the bathroom in a classic Beverly Hills Hotel robe.
I walked into Bens’s bedroom, spraying my body, neck, and hair with LAW. Now it was time for the Black Closet to do its magic.
I reached for the handle, opening both doors. All of Ben’s clothing was in here, lined on hangers and freshly steamed. Luckily, Ben and I wore the same size, , but our shoe size?. He was an 11, and I was a 12.5. I always brought my dad’s black lacquer boots in case of an emergency.
Looking into the closet, I knew exactly what I wanted to wear: black pants with a blue silk filigree print Versace shirt, dad’s boots, and matching leather belt.
Ben barged into my, bedroom dressed in his blue tuxedo, “Let’s go, Superman!” he teased..
“Pauly… you son of a gun! You finally did it.” Ben was impressed! This fits your personality,”he said as he looked me up and down then gave me a sturdy pat on the back. "Isabella is not gonna know what hit her! Diana, well ahh…" Ben said, looking at himself in the mirror, discouraged by his inadequacy to say something nice about what he was wearing.
“I look like I'm going to the Oscars, aren’t I?” Ben turned his square face looking at me, his grey eyes lighting up in a short laugh, “Ha.., well, This is not working! You outdid me, Pauly! What you’re wearing is perfect; Law is an excellent choice for Isabella, she’s going to like that, but you must have gone through all the bottles. This one is placed in the very back. It stands on its own because it is so unique, and it has to be protected; that’s why it’s in the back. ”
“Yeah, I figured knowing you,” I replied. Ben laughed softly,. “You know me too well. You gotta help me get dressed now, Pauly.”
“No problem, I answered. I know exactly what you’re going to wear.”
I kept the suits dark blue color but changed it to a dark blue oversized silk shirt with black slacks and Ben’s classic matt leather boots.
“This is different, but I like it,” Ben smiled, looking pleased. He was not used to wearing loose shirts, but as he moved around, his body felt more relaxed and energized, free, like he broke the chain of needing to please others by the way he dressed and carried himself, always keeping his head high in a confident manner. Finally, he just let loose. His body was now floating away, going where ever it needed to go.
“Alright, thank you!” Ben said with a big grin on his face. “Now I have a surprise for you waiting outside. Come on. Let’s not keep the ladies waiting,”Ben said and showed me out the door and into the elevator.
Seven stories down --we walked out of the Beverly Hills Hotel to the most stunning car I have ever seen. My mouth dropped and my eyes lingered. "Here you go, sir,” the valet parking guy looks jealous as he hands me the keys.
“Let me present the LOGANDA BELLDERA! Now, what do you think of her?” Ben said, holding his hands out, grasping for affirmations. His shirt blowing in the wind.
“It’s our newest invention. Father named it after Lo Lo, but despite that, I think this might be the finest Belldera ever made. “
Lo Lo was Ben’s nickname for his younger brother, Logan Bailey. His dad’s favorite; Ben was his mother’s.
“It’s a convertible, and fine one at that! This is what you--" Ben looks me intently in the eye while taking a brief pause,— “drive on vacation, and guess what, Pauly? It’s yours! You are the new face of the Longanda Belldera, the world's fastest, most intuitive car.
I just stood there gasping for a good 10 seconds. I didn’t know what to say until suddenly, the affirmation Ben was waiting for came rolling off my tongue.
“The Loganda Belldera Ohh wow, it’s beautiful, so beautiful I could kiss it!Ben, are you sure you wanna give this to me?” I said, salivating at the car, wishing I never uttered those last words.
"I'm sure Paul! Our PR team will fill you in on interviews and appearances...” I ran to sit in the driver’s seat I cried out Yippee! like a ten-year-old kid.
The Loganda Belldera has 300 horsepowers- modeled on a rocket engine, midnight blue with silver and black details. It is imposing, sleek and sexy. Unlike any other car I have ever imagined, let alone driven--I was on cloud nine!
I started up the engine. It didn’t make a noise. It was like a whisper driving down the highway.We laughed as the wind blew our hair.
Ben’s cigar kept blowing out every five seconds. After trying to light it for 15 minutes, he finally gave up, pushing the Belldera logo, a mountain lion’s face, and out came an ash tray.
Ben put out his cigar and hit the CD player, “Let’s get in the mood,” Ben beat his chest like Tarzan oh oh oh oh oh oooohhhh ….our testosterone levels flying through the roof.
As we approach the Ivy in Santa Monica, all eyes are on us, and the car is quickly surrounded by Paparazzi, with fans trying to catch glimpses of Isabella..
"These Papps are ruthless, Ben mocks, smiling smugly, as he pushes open the car door as-amid a frenzy of photographers SNAPPING pics of Ben Bailey, the dashing millionaire.
I was a deer in headlights, blinded by flashes in my windshield. Why were they so interested in taking my picture, now that Ben was out of the car?
I tried to remain calm as I reached for my Oliver Peoples sunglasses, placing them tightly to the bridge of my nose. Pushing the Belldera logo: a mountain lion’s face, on the left handle, closing the sunroof.
I revved the engine with a dominant force, spun the tiles, and parked the car on a dime. I stepped out of the vehicle to a barrage of flashing cameras, swirling the keys around my finger. Figure I'd give them a taste of what the Belldera could do, especially with a race car driver at the wheel. Ben wanted me to be the new face of the Loganda Belldera, and I wanted to make him proud.
No ratzzo’s got in my face--they were too stunned at the way I manuvered the car as I walk like a bad ass toward Ben. I hand over the car keys to the Valet , and we walk inside.
Ben smiled in awe, put his arm on my shoulder: "Don’t worry about drinking tonight. I got us covered."Usually, this meant he had a driver picking us up later.
Hello, Mr. Bailey, good to see you again.Your guests are waiting for you at your table.” Under his breath, "I brought them the usual".
"Thank you, Fredrik, have a nice trip with the misses, Ben said and shook his hand, slipping him a 100 dollar bill.
Ben always asked Fredrik, “If I am ever late, give the ladies something special from me!”
I glanced over Fredrik’s shoulder. There they were, two stunningly beautiful women sipping strawberry champagne looking runway ready in Valentino dresses, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. This was the creame de la creme of women.
Ben walked up behind Diana and put his hands on her shoulders. Hello, I think you’d like some company!
“Ben! Diana grabbed Ben’s hands, holding them around her neck. “When you said you would be late, I didn’t think you meant just a few minutes?”
“Diana, you’re always 10 minutes early. So I’ll always be a little late for you, Ben replied with a kiss on her cheek.
"Where is your friend you told me so much about? “ Diana wondered, looking over at Isabella sitting across from her at the table. Isabella anxiously held her breath, almost like she thought she might be stood up. I felt terrible for a second, looking at the disappointment on Isabella’s face.
Ben yelled out, "My man, Pauly!” What are you doing over there by the ice bowl? Come! Meet the ladies. He said and waved me over.
I walked straight up to Isabella, reached for her hand, and introduced myself, looking into her warm, Egyptian eyes. "Isabella, it’s nice to finally meet you. Sorry I kept you waiting. I needed to see that lobsters were kept fresh for our table.” Isabella smiles and lowers her shoulders. My name is Paul Sandelin., I said and kissed her hand. She scoots over on the white couch welcoming me to sit beside her.
“Hi Diana,” I reached my hand across the table. Her handshake was genuinely warm. I've heard so much about you. Congratulations on your new job. Don’t be surprised if you find Ben and me in the first row. Just kindly greet us with a huge smile from the runway, pose and do your thing, I smiled flirtatiously.”
"Why would you think I wouldn’t?" she smiled cleverly with her pearly whites framed by lips covered in luminous lipgloss, shimmering in the orgasmic light.
"Now that we're all acquainted, bring on the food and drinks! Ben said, rubbing his hands together. Fredrik came over at once with a rolling tray of drinks and an ice tray full of blue lobsters placed triumphantly in the middle of our table.
I loved Diana right away, terribly bad and I crushed my own dream of seeing Quinn and Ben happily ever again. How she touched Ben’s hair and ate with her left-hand because she was holding his. I called her out on her impressive skill, and she replied with a challenge:”I bet you can’t do it!”
"I accept your challenge,” I responded, grabbing Isabella’s hand, raising my glass of whiskey.
"
“The winners take a romantic ride on the Ferris wheel. The losers have to jump into the ocean!” I replied, testing her, and she answers perfectly: “I hope I lose then,” Diana smiles at Ben.
We had a lovely time. Eating and drinking till our guts were so full of laughter and joy. Diana was everything Ben made her out to be… independent, fun, strong, adventurous, loving, and kind. She called me out on minor details but in a fun, humorous way.
"Tell me, Paul, Diana challenged, were you shocked when you saw Bella? I am intrigued. What shook you about her; what did you discover? Standing by the lobsters, were you just hot for her in need to cool down?" She finished with a laugh.
“I did not expect that question,” I thought to myself and drank water, trying to buy time to think, but I couldn’t think with all eyes on me. So I told the TRUTH.
"I like to admire people from a distance; I can see what makes them tick, what makes them unique, what factors they play, and what they bring to the table. So yes, I was lying; Bella takes my breath away! Standing over by the lobsters taught me that you girls have a divine relationship. You are each other’s rock; if anything goes wrong, the other is there to lift you up, protect you, guide you.... When I was really stunned was when I came over and looked into Bella’s eyes. Never have I seen such warm, loving eyes; I feel like I know you already,” I said, putting my arm around Isabella’s waist, locking my eyes onto hers. She seems to love it, her cheeks flushed, warm red.
“Bullshit,!”Ben said, shattering my speech. Bella looked away, embarrassed because she let herself get lost in my green eyes.
"You were just hot for her, weren’t you?" Diana asked.
“Yeah," I confessed, knowing that every word I just uttered was genuine, authentic, and raw. people rarely believe it when given complete honesty. That’s when people think you’re crazy — many.. people cover up the truth with lies thinking it’s more believable that way.
“Think about it… how many times have you lied about your first impressions?? What did you instantly feel the first time you saw them?
I assure you, it’s usually more profound than just being hot for somebody.”
Diana and Ben lost the bet on purpose and slipped out to the beach. Isabella and I sat in the restaurant listening to the music.
Her head collapsed on my shoulder, my hand around her tiny waist. Stand by Me by Ben E. King started playing in the background."This was a good day,” Isabella sighed after a long moment of silence. I gently brushed her hair away from her face. “It’s not over yet.” I got up and handed Bella her purse. We walked down to the Santa Monica pier, holding hands.
I got so lost looking into Bella’s eyes that I didn’t even hear the yelling from the beach below us. WOO HOOO WOO HOO KISS HER! KISS HER, PAULY! Ben and Diana were cheering us on from the beach.
We kissed and our lips smashed softy together. I knew that I didn’t like it to be soft. For me, a magical kiss was rugged, a little tender, and medium rough around the edges.
It was a good kiss, but in that moment, I knew that I was not falling for her. We ran up towards the Ferris Wheel and talked into the night.
That was a year ago …
It was the longest time Ben and I had gone without traveling together. He had been secretive about his work for the last year, and he was finally reaching out to show off what he had been working on. I knew it was a plane, but usually, he included me in his plans – which led me right back to the challenge: I was an adrenaline junky. Ben knew I couldn’t turn down the opportunity to land a private jet. I accepted the challenge. Now it was time to prove to Ben that I could be the handsome bachelor landing his precious plane.
I threw the suitcase into the trunk of my grey Dodge Viper. I put on my aviation glasses as I drove down the sunny highway listening to Ginuwine’s newest hit song, “Pony.”
I arrived at Oslo airport on time – as usual, and walked into the private plane parking lot. Ben was late – as usual, but I was used to the Baileys by now, so I always had something to keep me busy. I picked up my diary and looked at what I had written 10 years ago after I met Ben in the diner…
** Johnny Rockets: August 18th, 1986
Ben was tired of walking in his father’s shadow building the fastest race cars on the tracks. He wanted to do something different and extravagant that fit his personality.
Ben was smooth and classy with a sense of ease. What was more calm than soaring in the clouds looking down at the busy ground?
Ben wanted to be an aviator ever since he learned to fly with his uncle Peter. The only thing he needed to do now was learn how to build planes.
“Paul, I’ll build us a plane that we can travel worldwide in style. No more worries, only blue skys ahead.” Those were his words 10 years ago.
Ben landed the plane perfectly at Oslo Airport – as usual – one hour late. I walked up towards the plane as he parked it proudly. He stepped out of the over-wing exit in a sapphire blue suit – paired with a yellow tie.
“What do you think of my new lady?” Ben beamed down at me.“I mean, look at her, she’s absolutely stunning!”
“What’s her name?” Ben and I always named our cars and motorcycles.
“Jennifer,” Ben announced, looking confident. Jennifer was a long-distance custom jet, similar to the Bombardier Challenger 600 series. She was dark green, and the windows had colored glass in light blue.
“Jennifer – ha!” she’s lovely. Now tell me, where did you find such a beautiful dame?” I said and grinned at him.
“Well, Pauly, I made her!” Ben smirked.
We both started laughing hysterically as we walked on board.
“Let me give you a tour,” Ben said, as he handed me a whiskey glass with Coke and ice from the luxurious bar – marble green interior with golden details. The bar was conveniently placed next to the television, located in the mid-section of the plane. It held all sorts of spirits, like aged whiskey and the very best champagne. I wanted so badly to pour myself a scotch on the rocks, but not today. Today I had other priorities!
The cabin had luxurious seats for 10 passengers and a master bedroom with the finest linen to sleep into the night. The lounge seats were emerald green leather with chunky armrests and the option to put your feet up and fold the seat all the way back.
I sat down in the middle row and noticed a transparent storage cabinet above me. It stored DVD’s and records. Under the cabinet, there was a table with a wooden globe and a record player. I recognized the globe ... As a ritual after each trip, Ben would spin the globe — I would close my eyes and stop it with my finger. Wherever the finger landed – was the destination for our next adventure.
The first time Ben spun the globe, my finger landed on the steps of Bali. We ended up visiting the city of Ubud. A few hours later, we found ourselves hiking through Indonesia’s green rice water fields, carefully watching our steps facing the sundown. I believe it’s the most beautiful horizon I have ever seen.
I changed out of my red t-shirt and jeans and managed to get the green suit on in the tiny airplane bathroom. I slicked my blond hair back and dabbed eye cream under my eyes. Now it was time for the hard part; drawing a thin line under my eyelashes without tearing up.
I had practiced in the mirror for some time, thinking that Ben might surprise me with a trip to Atlanta for the Olympics.
But I didn’t’ exactly get any better at it. The first week, every time I looked in the mirror, I saw a Panda staring back at me. The liner was so thick that my eyes teared up so bad that it smudged both under and over my eye. It was so dumb. “Why do people do this?” I thought to myself.
A few neighbors would walk by, and I’d say “good morning!”. They greet me with "Good morning, Paul,”right before they'd turn away with the most bizarre look on their faces. I didn’t’ care much about it. In fact, it humored me a little to see their reactions until one day, my attractive neighbor, Nina Gren, came home from her morning run to have a glass of water on the balcony next to mine.
“Good morning, Nina,” I said, forgetting that my face looked completely mental.
“God! Paul… you freaked me out. What the hell is that around your eyes? "
"You don’t like it?”
“No... what is that?"
“Eyeliner."..I said, looking discouraged.
“Okay…hahaha”...she lauged. “That’s not how you use eyeliner. I am going to take a shower, then I’ll come over and show you how it’s done. In the meantime, get that gunk off your face!”
Nina came over, and after teaching me how it was done, we ended up having sex in the shower. Ben was right… ladies loved eyeliner.
My technique was now solid. I held my elbow with my left hand as I carefully put the eyeliner on my upper eyelid. I looked in the mirror and focused intensely on getting it thin enough. Now, first one eye – then the other, steady and calm, I thought to myself.
Ben knocked on the restroom door: “Pauly, ... we don’t have all day!” I took a last check in the mirror ... He was right. It did make me look like the perfect gentleman, like Marlon Brando – only with blond hair and green eyes. I proudly walked out of the restroom into the cockpit.
“I’m ready, Captain!”
“Impressive, Pauly!! Come sit in the co-pilot seat. After all, you do look the part. Take us away, Jennifer!” Ben said. He adjusted the controls from the pilot’s seat and pulled out from the gate.
Before I knew it, we were lined up on the runway, ready for take-off. This was the first time I ever looked down a runway from the cockpit. It gave me chills up and down my spine.
The speaker inside the cockpit blared with a voice that gave us clearance to take off.
“Ready for take-off.” Ben commanded into the mic.
“Wanna take her away?”... Ben offered after turning off the mic.
“Can I?”
“Sure, you're a stud and world-class race car driver.! Now, put this on …" he handed me my own bomber hat.
“Now, Pauly, I need you to focus. Look straight down to the edge of the runway. I’ll accelerate and do the rest. The only thing you have to do is lift the yoke. I will count … and at the count of five, you will slowly lift up the yoke in a steady motion.”
My adrenaline started to kick in. I had never been so nervous in my entire life. It was one thing to crash a race car on the track, but it was an entirely different thing to crash a designer jet into someone’s backyard!
The speedometer started climbing as we drove down the runway. Ben started counting:
“... one ... two ... three ... four ... FIVE! Now lift her up slowly …”
I lifted up the yoke ... and felt the whole engine rush through my body like I was one with the plane.
“Keep her steady now ... steady, steady ... good! You’re flying her, Paul .... How does it feel?”
“Amazing!!! I get it now, why the old man loved this so much!”
My dad spent his last years learning how to fly. He invited me to join him in the cockpit so many times, but I was always too busy racing. Or maybe I was avoiding him? He had bugged me all my life about being the fastest race car driver on the tracks, and now he wanted me to start from scratch as a pilot. That was not happening, but as I headed up into the sky, I regretted my decision.
One of the last things he said to me was that racing cars couldn’t ever measure up to the feeling of taking off into the sky.
“One day, you will understand what that means, boy.” Those were his words exactly.
