Just click my name to send me an email! I'm not getting NEARLY enough mail.s
Chris here.
The midterms were coming up. If my efforts were successful, I would tip the entire balance of power in DC. Perhaps as interesting is that my influence would continue after the election. This was a bigger deal than one would think. If things went my way, the tenure of the idiot in the White House, along with his brown nosing VP would soon be over. That meant my influence on the selection of the next House Speaker took on more meaning. The next speaker would be the incumbent President and if I liked them, they might be the candidate to back in 2020. Incumbents generally win. I had to make sure they didn't follow Ford's lead and pardon the doofus.
Which is why I was flying to DC this morning. Barb and I had several days of interviews with prospective candidates for the Speaker. The current minority leader wasn't one of them. She was done. She just might not know it yet. The meetings were all at The Falls. Let them come to us. They'll be doing it after the election. Let's set the tone. Is all of this going to my head? Sure. Doesn't mean it isn't true.
My current leading candidate from our research might not be reelectable. She is a Democratic Congresswoman for Arizona. Kyrsten is young, by everyone else's standards. She supports many of my issues, including women's rights, gun issues, and LGBTQ rights. She is a triathlete and openly bi.
See the problem? It's all in those last two words.
I was prepared to love her even though we disagree on the military. Fucking waste of tax dollars.
Anyway. Leslie and Amai are flying as I had profiles to read that Barb prepared. Amai let me know we were landing. We taxied up to the FBO. We were in the Mustang so Amai could finish her hours. Barb was waiting with a GLS63. We went straight to the house and had a wonderful lunch. We needed to find our restaurants. We didn't have favorites yet.
Our first few meetings were a bust and I can't say I'm surprised. Middle aged chubby white guys can't wrap their heads around owing a 4'11" preteen. I get it. They don't. Their politics were OK, but they were not going to be Speaker. One actually laughed at me. I checked after the meeting. He had a primary opponent that looked promising. He wasn't getting reelected. He didn't know but I did. Barb already dumped $20M in his opponent's campaign who immediately released a press release about their major donation. Not 10 minutes later I got a phone call.
"That was you, wasn't it?," he screamed into the phone.
"Calm down and tell me what you're talking about," I said.
"My primary opponent just announced a $20M donation. $20M! I can't beat that!," he shouted.
"Gosh, no, I don't think you can," I said. "Perhaps it will be a learning experience when you return to private life. Underestimating powerful young women is a mistake. Feel free to impress that upon your colleagues in the few months you have left." Fuck him.
"You can't do this!," he shouted. He needed to calm down.
"Do what? My advice was only about young women. Especially young women who control a PAC with over $87B. With a B," I said. "You knew my nickname before you decided to laugh at me."
"The kingmaker," he said, softly.
With that I gently hung up the phone. Word would spread. He would keep his mouth shut but my meetings had been reported in WaPo. We leaked them. I'm betting that tomorrow there will be a prominent article detailing the curious timing of our meeting and the donation. We will respond with no comment.
There was.
Kyrsten was our first meeting on our second day. We had made it clear that the meetings were shorts casual which is a Hayden trademark. Sort of a test. Every man had shown up so far in a suit and tie. Krysten showed up in khaki shorts, a black Hayden polo, and, unbelieveably, flip flops. I commented on it and she laughed.
"Don't let it be said I can't follow instructions," she said, still laughing. "I have a primary opponent you might like too." That got us all laughing.
"WaPo eviscerated him," she said. "And rightly so. These idiots keep underestimating the Parkland kids and you are a million times more powerful. No make that 87 billion times. He is a decent guy but not Speaker material. I believe I am."
Ok, she had checked the FEC site. Recently. And she understood clearly the point of this meeting.
"They just don't get it do they? Let me use my premonition skills. They all showed up in suits and ties. Most of them were polite but thought they could snow you by parroting your own words back to you. They oozed smarm from their pores. My colleague who you just made my ex colleague was openly dismissive and might have even made the fatal mistake of laughing out loud. My guess is that a laugh brings out the wrath of the kingmaker. Am I close?" Barb and I couldn't stop laughing.
"When did you install your listening equipment?," I said. We all laughed again.
Kyrsten was warm, interesting, caring, and passionate.
We disagreed on some substantial issues. She asked if they were showstoppers.
"No. We are mostly aligned but we need to discuss the military budget more. One of us is wrong and we need to figure out which one," I said. "And you need to be realistic that you may not be able to run for a second term. Maybe but you have to convince me you can get reelected."
"Second term?," she said. "I am already in my third term."
I just raised my eyebrows and waited. It finally hit.
"You want them both impeached. You're interviewing me for the fucking President's job not just Speaker. I'd be the damn President," she said. "You really are the kingmaker. In that case we need a lot more time together. I get your influence but I'm no puppet." That last sentence came out hard. I like this woman. Focus that passion and she would get reelected. I loved that she said fucking too. Treating me like the adult I am in everything but age.
"I love your passion. Love it. I love your need for independence. Yes I want influence. No I don't demand it. What I want more is access. I want to be able to argue my position and you argue yours but in the end you're President," I said.
"You are actually going to change the world in one election aren't you?," she said. "You're stacking the House and the Senate with centrists that share most if not all of your vision. You're choosing carefully in each district from the party that can win. I'll bet you're backing the candidate you've chosen on both sides in key districts. You've asked every one of them for a committment to impeach and convict and you already know you can do it. You've skipped all the way to picking the next President and you think it might be me," she said. "Well I'd be fucking honored and yes you can have all the access you want. Hell you can have the Lincoln bedroom. I like the way you think. So let's argue over the military budget. Maybe you can convince me."
Ok I was done. She is the next President and I told her that and asked her if she liked Chinese food. She did so Amai ordered carryout. I cancelled all the other meetings and we spent the afternoon arguing. Turns out we agreed more than we realized. A strong military without the pork. Let the professionals choose the equipment they needed and fund it. Billions could come out tomorrow. The market would shock but recover.
I asked her if she could stay through dinner and she quickly agreed. Yeah, the press would know the anointed. Barb would take the task to ensure she would be the next Speaker. Money talks. I will focus on policy.
At 5:30, a car drove up. The doorbell rang and Amai let our guest in, to Kyrsten's surprise. Our argument wasn't over until we had details so I'd invited the Chairman of the Joint Chief of Staffs to dinner. Filet and lobster. I fucking love filet and lobster.
"You have the power to get the Chairman to come to dinner on short notice? Damn," she said. This time he laughed.
"I like filet and lobster," he said. "We met when her sister won Top Gun. We try to have dinner whenever she is in DC. We have debates on the future of the military and she is the only person with whom I have those debates that doesn't pull their punches. They're spirited and she has changed my mind on quite a few things. Too bad we don't have a Congress and President with her balls."
"We will," I said. "Soon." You could see the gears turning in his head. He is smart. Very smart.
"So I'm here to have this debate with the next President. Do we have to debate or are your just Chris' proxy?," he asked. She clearly bristled and he caught it.
"Sorry, I meant no offense but it appears I have failed," he said. "I would love to hear your ideas and where you and Chris differ."
This was going to be a fun dinner.
It was. We argued and fussed and laughed. We all agreed and we hadn't realized it. Joe would back a bill cutting the military budget by a third, but would coach us on specifically what to cut. Damn.
We went back to Florida and I was a kid for a few weeks. Race season was approaching so Leslie and I put a lot of practice in for both classes. She had really improved. We put out buoys for a course and she won as many as I did. I was crazier, she was smoother. Top gun you know.
Oh, we did a lot of other things too. You know what I mean, now don't you. I may be powerful. I may be 11. I am also ALWAYS horny.
You see, Dad had been on Zillow again. We really loved Montreal when I won the race last year, so Dad decided to buy a place. This one was hard to argue. Florida in the summer is ugly. Montreal in the summer is gorgeous. Now, Dad loves boats, so he joined the Montreal Yacht Club and already had his new boat delivered. The Yacht club. Ya dee fucking da. He decided on a Searay 520 Fly, because, well, he likes fly bridges. I think he would have gone with another Sunseeker 52, but it was just a little too big for the largest berth he could find. From what I saw online, the Searay is pretty damn nice. Three cabins, two queen and one with two twins, so we'll fit, barely, but Orlando will have to double up with a sister. I'm sure he'll be simply devastated, right?
The race events started on Friday. We went up on Monday and would sleep on the new boat. We were going to spend Monday afternoon, Tuesday, and Wednesday house hunting, if needed, and also leave time for playing around. Oh, I don't mean that. Well, yes I do, but not just that. We wanted to walk Old Montreal and just be tourists. Leslie ran us up in the Mustang, then went back for everyone else, who would come up on Friday. They were bringing the BFP so everyone would have a place to sleep. Hotels were crazy, and we liked peace.
Dad had a Mercedes-AMG Project One waiting at the FBO. 1000HP. In a pretty blue that matched our C63S that was, well, somewhere now. I think Napa. Maybe. Montreal this week is all about hot cars and I was driving for the Mercedes-AMG team, so it seemed appropriate. I had to use my pull to get one. Let's face it Lambos, McLarens and the like were common in Montreal, at least this week. It's weird, but I'm pretty sure that the manufacturers hired people to drive them around and rev their engines a lot. I know some of the restaurants rented them to park in front so they'd look cool.
Well, nothing was as cool as the Project One. Dad even gave up on a convertible! Well, for now, you know the house we picked would have a big garage and Mom and Dad would fill it.
We took off for the yacht club first, to get settled. The boat was beautiful. Dad was in the main cabin and I was in the other Queen cabin. At least for show. Let's just say we christened the boat. I'd forgotten what a good fuck Dad was. I'm not sure I'd ever had time with him alone. Hell, he has Mom, why would I? He is such an attentive lover and has mad oral skills. He had me up and over quickly and didn't stop until I pushed him away. That was just his signal to slide up my body, working on my navel (it tickles!), my breasts, my neck, and finally such sensual kissing. For a nerd, he's good. While we were kissing, he gently slid into me. Oh he fills me nicely. I wasn't having any of that though. I was horny, the waves were gently lapping the boat, and I needed to be fucked. We're an honest and open family, so I told him. Fuck me hard, I believe was the exact quote and my god he did. Neither one of us took that long and he just filled me with cum. He started to slide down to lick me out.
"Leave it," I said, in what came out as almost a gutteral moan. I pushed him on his back and went down on him. I was determined and had him hard quickly. After all, he's in his prime. He's only freaking 23. As soon as he was hard, I rolled on to my side and he spooned me and slid right in. We'd had our power fuck. Now we were going to make love. I wanted his first load in there, as it feels nice to have a full cum load and get fucked again. He gently slid in and out as has hands roamed. My breasts, gently rubbing my neck, my clit. Oh god my clit. That was all it took, but he had stamina. He kept me on the edge, and over, and back, for what seemed like hours, but was probably a solid twenty minutes before he unloaded in me again.
This time I let him clean me out and yes, we exchanged it in a kiss. Of course we did. We finally fell back on the bed, sweaty, exhausted, and happy. We even dozed for a bit, until we heard someone hail us from the dock. Dad shouted we'd be out in a few minutes and we hopped in and took a quick shower. No time for more pleasure, so we used separate bathrooms. Bummer.
I threw on shorts and a tight tank. Turns out he did the same. Shit he looks good. If he wasn't my Dad, I'd fuck him. Oh, yeah. Just did. Twice.
We went out onto the deck and met Luis. He was a french god. Tall, dark, a sexy french accent. He scoped us out closely. Both of us. Dad introduced himself and introduced me as his daughter. For most people that just gets questions, but from Luis it just got a leer. We found out later that in upper class Canada, the rich men would often be in the company of extremely high class escorts. You know, ESCORTS. They would usually introduce them as their daughter. So Luis thought I was an upscale hooker. Well fuck him. OK, I might later, but he was hot. If he believed that of me, I might just take advantage. Looked like he wanted Dad just as much. Who wouldn't? I had to be careful though, as I was pretty publicly visible this week and it was common knowledge I was 16. OK, I guess I only got to fuck Dad, but maybe he'd get lucky with Luis.
He was in a Mercedes SUV, but not one we'd buy. If it isn't an AMG, it doesn't park in our garage. Nice enough though. Yeah, I got stuck in the back seat. The afternoon was a complete bust. He dropped us off late in the afternoon and we got cleaned up. Dad had reservations at a very nice restaurant and he told them what we were driving and they promised the spot in front. Of course they did. Our reservations were at a place called Toqué! (yes, complete with explanation point). I looked it up and it was voted the best restaurant in Canada. Now it was early in race week, but I found it hard to believe that had an open table, even early at 7. I asked Dad and he just laughed. Oh, got it, stupid money. Powerful stuff is stupid money.
We dressed up, which is something we don't often get to do. Do you remember the amazing pale green dress Mom got in the Bahamas? She loaned it to me, and yes, I rock it too. I may not have red hair, but I have the breasts for it. I'm a solid C cup now and they look GOOD in that dress. No bra, of course. I'm about three inches taller than Mom, so it makes it a little short on me. That was just fine with me. I wasn't slutty, just sexy AF. The chances were actually good I'd be recognized, so I had to be well dressed. I'm sure the press would assume Dad was my date, unless they did their homework. Doesn't matter, we'd be nothing but proper tonight. Dad was in his finest suit and fuck he looked good. He wore a simple white shirt, with his bad ass diamond cuff links. His tie matched my dress. Hand made from the same material. Mom had given it to him as a present. It really worked for us.
We arrived the restaurant in the Project One and the valet immediately moved the cones blocking the prime parking spot. Yeah, he knew what it was. It's a fucking beast. I think he was startled when Dad popped out of the passenger seat. Are you kidding? It's Montreal during race week. Of course I was driving. Yeah, the press was there, so lots of cameras. A lot of tourists took pictures too. I think they were focusing on the car, but dammit, we looked GOOD.
The Maitre D' actually came out to the sidewalk to greet us, effusively, and led us past the line to our table, which was clearly the prime table in the entire place. Stupid money put to good use. I saw a ton of phones come out, taking our picture. They might not know who we were, but we were clearly special. I suspect a few of them would figure it out after I won on Sunday. You know I'm going to win again, don't you? I do. I know it. We had a pleasant dinner and just caught up. Joyous.
Dad asked a question that clearly confused Luis.
"What is the depth of water at the dock and can any of the docks handle a small ship of 475 feet? Around 155 meters," said Dad. Oh I got it. That would be truly cool.
"155 meters? Surely that cannot be correct?" said Luis.
"It is," I said. "It is."
"You own a 155 meter ship?," he asked, still not quite believing. We both laughed.
"So tell us the truth about who, or what, you think Morgan is to me," said Dad. "Did you believe she was my daughter?"
He stammered a bit and clearly didn't want to answer. We were both laughing.
"Do you follow Formula 1?," asked Dad. "Do you know who won last year?"
"No, I don't but I recall hearing the winner was a young girl," he said.
"Google it," said Dad.
He was confused but did. We could both tell when he got to the first picture. His eyebrows shot to the sky. He kept reading for a bit.
"You? You!," he said. "You're his escort!" Yes that made us laugh too.
"No," I said. "I really am his adopted daughter. You'll find hundreds of articles about us. Clearly you didn't do the most basic research about your clients."
He reddened a bit. "I did," he said. "But clearly not enough. Clearly. I knew you had four children but assumed very young children. It is unusual."
"Yes it is," said Dad. "We understand. We really do."
"Oh hell," I said. "I took it as a compliment." Even Luis laughed at that.
Luis couldn't find the answer to that question quickly so we went ahead and went to view the three houses. We went farthest to closest which happened to also be smallest to largest.
By small, we mean 6 bedrooms and about 7500 square feet. It was nice, quite nice, but a lot of columns and gold leaf. Just not really us. Even our Italy house wasn't that over done.
The second house was considerably larger. 8 bedrooms and about 10000 square feet but poorly used space. It felt like the house had grown with poorly executed addons. Luis confirmed this was exactly the case. Dad and I agreed the smaller home was still a better choice.
Until we got to the last house. Wow. Reminded me a bit of a reduced version of our Florida home. How someone still held 5 acres on the waterfront escaped me. The main house was 8 bedrooms and 10 bathrooms. It was modern but not too modern if that makes sense. It was beautifully decorated and I asked if it was staged. Luis assured me it was not and the owners would prefer to sell it furnished. The property also had three cottages. Two with two bedrooms and one with a single bedroom. The smallest was occupied by a young couple that were the caretakers. We got to meet them and whoa. If they...
The 10 car underground garage might have sealed the deal.
We walked out onto the dock and it was quite long. Really quite long. Just then Luis got a text.
"I just received confirmation. Neither of the first two homes could accommodate a boat any larger than the one you have," said Luis. "This one easily can. We understand that the previous owners had friends with a yacht larger than 100 meters and had no issues. It is certified by the port authority for 200 meters. In fact, it is registered as an emergency dock for smaller cruise ships which gives you some extraordinary tax benefits."
"So let's go over availability and economics," said Dad.
"It is immediately available," said Luis. "It is currently owned by the bank. Unfortunate circumstances I understand. The asking price is US$17M. It is a steal at that."
Yeah, never trust your real estate agent on the definition of a steal.
"What bank, what branch?," I said. I knew the drill. I held up my phone so only Dad could see where I had already typed in $12M. Dad nodded and let me run with it.
Luis consulted his notes.
"Bank of Montreal," he said and handed Dad a sheet of paper with all the relevant information. He handed it to me with a smile.
"I transferred cash to the branch into an escrow account for the full amount of our offer. It has instructions that they may release it if they accept it as full payment with immediate occupancy. Meaning you hand us the keys and we sleep here tonight."
"Cash?," he said. "You're paying cash? How much is your offer?"
I loved this part. "Just call the branch," I said.
He pulled out his phone and I heard him speaking in French. We had all been studying French, Spanish, and Italian, and I was told I was a natural. I understood everything. I don't think he expected I would. They were arguing as the bank wanted to accept and Luis wanted them to ask for more. Not cool, Luis. Finally the bank won.
He hung up and turned to us.
"I am pleased to say with my insistence, they have accepted your offer," said Luis.
"Oh really," I said. "Is it ethical for you to try to get the seller to raise the price Luis?"
Yes I said that in French. Oops, Luis.
He looked like I punched him. I suppose I had, verbally. I explained the situation to Dad. He wasn't really learning languages quickly. Oh, he was hot. Really hot.
"Really," he said. "What do you think we should do, Morgan?"
"Well," I said. "My guess is he would lose his license. Is that right Luis?"
He turned red and couldn't even get word out. He finally just nodded.
"But I am sure you are feeling generous today, aren't you?," I said. "I believe you mentioned that you would be donating half your commission to the local domestic abuse shelter. You mentioned it was a cause that was so important to you."
He looked ready to argue, but I had his balls and was twisting. He finally just nodded again.
"Get a receipt and email it to us. With that, we won't file a complaint with the licensing board," I said. He didn't notice I didn't promise to not tell his employer. We sure as hell would. Can't be the only time he has done it.
With that, he handed us the keys. He didn't even try to shake our hands.
"We will find out way back," said Dad. "We will work directly with the bank. You're dismissed. Email us that receipt. Soon."
With that he left. Moments later, Oliver and Charlotte walked in laughing.
"We apologize. We did not mean to eavesdrop but you were awesome," said Charlotte, in French.
"English please," I said. "Dad does not speak French."
"Dad?," said Oliver. "We, on course, know who you are, Morgan, but you're Bob? How can that be?" We laughed and gave them the spiel.
"We hope we are not misreading the situation," said Charlotte. "But we thought we should get this out there. If we are wrong, or worse, offend you, we are sorry. We sense that you two are very close. VERY close. If so, we understand. Well. You see almost no one is aware that we are brother and sister. We have been a couple, in every way, since we were quite young. Quite young. We are also very, very discreet."
We both just smiled and allowed her to continue.
"Well, you seem accepting of that, so I will push farther. Go all the way, so to speak," she said. "We would love to stay on and would like to celebrate that with you both. Both. We are, as they say, both quite flexible and open minded. Again, I sense you might be as well. We also have read of your other three children and your quite lovely wife. We are hopeful they are also, shall we say, playful."
I deferred to Dad. It was bigger for him. The risk was greater. He pulled me to the side.
"Here is the deal, but only if you truly want to," he said. "If they play with you first, I am protected. What do you think?"
I laughed and walked over and took them both by the hand. I told Dad to come with us.
I led us back into the largest bedroom that wasn't the master. I had a thing about Mom and Dad christening their bedrooms. Dad understood. Since I had to lead, I told Dad to lay on the bed. He did, still fully clothed. I positioned Oliver and Charlotte sideways, facing each other, and proceeded to undress them. As every interesting part became exposed, I kissed it and licked it. Her nipples. His nipples. Her clit. His cock. Finally they were nude. They each returned the favor. First Charlotte pulled off my T-shirt. They took turns licking and tweaking my nipples. They were all in now. Oliver pushed down my shorts and I stepped out of them. At this point, we were good, and I noticed Dad was undressing. Charlotte climbed up on the bed, with her head as the foot. Oh, I knew where this was headed and climbed up her body into a 69. Yes, that felt me exposed. I told Oliver to slide right in. Oh he did, with a nice thick uncut cock. Dad climbed up on the bed, standing, and offered his cock to Oliver.
Oliver had some skills. For me and for Dad. They both kept us on the edge for WAY too long and finally all four of us came together. Oliver took Dad's load and kissed it back to him. Charlotte pushed me up on the bed and licked me out. Oh, I went over again and again.
Finally I couldn't take any more. I like Oliver and Charlotte. Dad does too.
We sat at the kitchen table and Charlotte made us all lunch. Dad gave them the standard discretion spiel which was likely unnecessary at this point. He asked them what they currently made and then offered them the standard package with explanation. It was roughly tripling their salary then he threw in two cars. We found out they were both also in part time college so he shared the tuition reimbursement program. They just sat their stunned.
"Why?," they asked.
"Because we value our team. Our family. We are inviting you to be part of that family," he said. "We don't do that lightly and want our family to be comfortable. We can afford it and like it. Now, do you both have drivers licenses and do either of you have experience with large powerboats?"
They both laughed.
"Yes we are good drivers," said Oliver. "Our Dad also owns the finest marina in town. We grew up in boats." He named the marina where Dad had bought the Searay. Cool.
"What do you think of the Searay 520 Fly?", asked Dad.
"An amazing boat. Simply wonderful," said Charlotte. "We saw our first one last week when Dad took delivery for a new customer. Even nicer than we expected. Our new dream boat."
"Excellent," said Dad. "Morgan and I would like to get settled. Your first task is to take an Uber to the yacht club. One of you can drive our car back and the other can bring back that Searay your Dad ordered for us. Now, part of your job is to regularly exercise the boat as often as possible. Bring your friends. Have fun. Like everything else, we cover all expenses."
They just laughed out of sheer joy. Dream job for sure.
"Could you also find a builder to put a lift in for the Searay," said Dad.
"A lift for a 52 foot boat?," said Oliver. Dad just nodded. They'd learn.
"Oh," he said. "Before I forget. Which cottage is yours?"
"The little one in the back. The one bedroom," replied Oliver. Oh I got this one.
"That's silly," I said, as Dad laughed. Yeah, Dad, I know. "When you find time, please move into the two bedroom by the water. It is a waste for you to not enjoy it." Dad just smiled at me.
They looked at each other in shock.
"We sense that your previous employer was not that wonderful," said Dad.
"He was a douche. The bank was even worse," said Charlotte.
"Good thing we came along," I said. We all laughed.
"Feel free to say no," I said. "But I'd like to have a small reception Friday evening. The Mercedes team. Around 20," I said. "Can you arrange catering for it?"
"I'm sorry but everything is booked," said Charlotte. "It is race week."
Dad held up one finger and walked into the other room. He was back in two minutes.
"Toqué! has agreed to cater," he said. "They will provide everything including servers, bartenders, and a stocked open bar."
They both looked stunned.
"How?," said Charlotte.
"Stupid money," I said and went on to explain the concept. They just laughed. They got up to go and Charlotte asked for the car key. Dad handed her the Mercedes fob.
"A Mercedes. Nice," said Charlotte. "Which model?"
"A Project One," said Dad. Charlotte looked like the key was burning her palm.
"But, but. You're OK with me driving it?," said Charlotte. "You've just met me."
"Seems like we know each other pretty intimately," said Dad, which got a laugh from us all.
"What's a Project One?," asked Oliver. Interesting. Charlotte was the car nut.
"A thousand horsepower hybrid supercar," said Charlotte. "Over $2M Canadian."
They both looked at us with wide eyes.
"Get used to it," I said.
They took off and Dad called the Mercedes dealer and asked them to deliver a GLS63. All they had was silver which he didn't want. They looked and said the could trade for a loaded one in Matte White and deliver it by dinner. Perfect.
Dad and I spent time exploring the house, the cottages, and the grounds. We were sitting in the dock when Charlotte walked out and joined us.
"So Charlotte," I said. "You're into cars?"
"Oh yes," she said. "I raced carts as a kid. I was good but it was expensive. I ended up stopping. No choice. I had always dreamed of driving in the Ferrari challenge."
I looked at Dad and he nodded.
"Sign up for a spot for next year," I said. "Order the car now. In fact, buy two. I know Mom would love to as well. Find out how to rent the track here. We will all come up and have great fun practicing. If you hit any stumbling blocks, let me know. I know last years winner and she has some pull. I hear she's going to win this year too." I thought that deserved a laugh but she just sat their stunned.
"That's at least a million in cars and support," she said. "You would do that? For me?"
"Yes," said Dad. "I just don't like silver cars."
Just then Oliver pulled into the dock. When he got off, Charlotte ran up to him screaming. It took her a while to calm down and tell him. They were spending the day looking shocked.
"Oh, before I forget," said Dad. "If you're available, you're welcome in our suite at the track both Saturday and Sunday. Morgan will be qualifying Saturday and racing Sunday."
"That's wonderful," said Charlotte and they both agreed. "Should we just meet you at the track?"
"No," said Dad. "We will fly in from here. We arranged a large helicopter." Stunned again.
"Tell me you didn't buy another one," I said. Dad just gave me a sheepish grin.
"Another one?," said Oliver.
"Long story. We will catch you up. Part of being in our family is access to a lot of homes," I said. "And a lot of aircraft to get you there. We will walk through it. Heck we will Uber over Thursday and you can see the BFP. We can all fly back." Dad just nodded. We were walking up to the house when we saw the new SUV drive in, followed by a little A class you couldn't get in the US.
"Were you expecting someone?," asked Charlotte.
"They're just dropping off the new SUV," said Dad. "Be sure to take a few days to pick your new vehicles. Remember to spend the entire budget. We'll leave this SUV here, so you can use it too, so get something more fun for yourselves. I'll leave the Project One here too, so use that a lot. Oh, I forgot to mention. I made reservations for the four of us at Toqué! for 7. We will find another place for tomorrow but I liked it. You two take the Project One. We will take the SUV. You'll enjoy the attention. Do you have a suit and nice dress or should we be more casual?"
"No," I said. "Let's all take the SUV. That way you can enjoy a nice bottle of wine. I'll drive."
They both said they did have nice clothes. We agreed to be ready at 6:30. Then we gave them a special tour of the Searay. A special tour. Oliver had recovery skills. So did Dad.
Dinner was great fun. They're really funny and so open. They enjoyed two bottles of wine, so were really themselves. Dad had asked them what their top two dream wines were. They picked one Italian and one French. Guess who owned both wineries. One guess.
The sommelier brought them out and recognized Dad. I guess the wine program had hit Montreal. He was effusive. Dad was embarrassed. Once he left I explained why he knew Dad. Yep, stunned again. We got home late and they went off to their cottage. I still wouldn't let Dad sleep in the Master until Mom arrived. We found an agreeable solution.
We played tourist for a couple days and had a blast. We took a couple rides on the Searay with our new friends. Dad shared that Jenny would be here with the 475 on Monday. They asked what the 475 was but Dad wouldn't tell them. Talk about stunned. That was going to be a new one. He suggested they invite their family over for lunch on Monday and a cruise on the boat. He just didn't say what boat. They shared it was just their Dad. He assured them he would enjoy it. They assured us we would enjoy their Dad. Oh good.
On Thursday night the four of us took the Searay to the Yacht Club for dinner. It was hilarious. We were appropriately dressed but clearly didn't fit in. They treated us like poor white trash and maybe we are, except the poor part. This wasn't the friendly Montreal we had experienced. It felt just like the place in the Bahamas where we had been treated with disdain. Oh, wait. I get it. Dad had introduced me as his daughter. I explained it to the others and they couldn't stop laughing. I'm not sure that helped the other guests opinion of us.
That was until Justin walked in for dinner with his wife with their three adorable children, 10, 8, and 4. The entire place was agog. What really blew their minds was when he walked over to our table to shake MY hand and wish me well for the weekend. He introduced his family to our entire group and we invited them to join us. I don't think the yacht club was quite prepared for us to push our tables together but they let us.
Oh, Justin who?
Trudeau. The Prime Minister of Canada. They mixed in with us and I got to chat with their 10 year old, Xavier. Such a composed young man. He loved hearing that my 11 year old sisters flew planes and helicopters. I suspect I set them up for quite a conversation. By the end of the evening, Dad had them convinced to watch the race from our family suite. Pretty sure he had invited them to come visit too. Dad is gregarious that way. I did hear him suggest they meet at our house on Sunday and fly over together. My guess is his security would freak, but there was room for five of them. Wait until they met the pilots.
Finally Friday morning rolled around and we all were waiting at the FBO when Leslie and Chris taxied up in the BFP. Their faces were going to freeze in that stunned look.
We took them on board and did the intros. It was a crazy time of year so only the immediate family and Amai were on board. The whole Leslie and Chris are the pilots thing threw them. Then I suggested that Leslie, Chris, and Amai might like to give them a tour of the upstairs master suite. Dad and I welcomed Mom and Orlando to Montreal downstairs.
When they came down, our new friends had clearly made another friend in Amai. Well sure. Chris and Leslie didn't exactly look left out.
Finally we went down and boarded our new Eurocopter. Much like our existing one but configured for the full 12 plus two pilots. Very nice. I gave Chris the coordinates to the house and we flew over Montreal and landed in the front yard. Dad had made sure we could before we made the offer. Knowing him, if we couldn't, he would have just left the 475 to land on and bought another.
We got back in time for everyone to get settled in their room. Oliver and Charlotte said they'd take care of the caterers. Mom and Dad wanted to check out their room. Uh huh.
I took everyone else out for a short ride in the Searay. I was learning my way around. I was falling in love the Montreal. We were staying into next week so everyone could enjoy the city.
When we got back, the house was all setup and we got cleaned up and ready, after we, you know. I'd missed my siblings.
Everyone started arriving around 7. They were confused on why we owned such a large home in Montreal but we didn't try to explain. They did appreciate the Project One in the driveway. Many of them had never seen one.
The party was great fun. Charlotte really is a car freak and held her own with everyone
Chris flew me over early for the drivers meeting and flew back. They'd all come over later.
I'm not all that young in F1. A couple of the other drivers are 19, but men, of course. They were arrogant as hell about being in F1 and viewed me as an interloper. Yeah, douchebag, I won last year. You didn't. I don't like arrogant. It was funny, as the experienced drivers were really nice. They knew of all my accomplishments. The drivers meeting was pretty normal and then we were out on the track. Yeah, I carved my line, which got a ton of commentary from the announcers. Worked for me last year guys. Last year I'd had to fight for my wing adjustments. This year the car arrived with them already set. Progress. I loved the F1 cars. So responsive. Not as brutal as the Indy cars and they were better in a road course. If I could manhandle, or girlhandle, an IndyCar around the streets of St. Pete, I could drive F1 on this track. Heck it was closer to carting.
I ended the morning practice session with a comfortable leading margin but hadn't pushed it that hard. Saved a little for qualifying. It started out exciting as the Ferrari team caught up to my morning pace. Guess I had to push it. I went balls out on my run and yes, won the pole, but not by as much as I would have liked. I had them take another half degree off the wing for the afternoon. I would always put it back. The engineers argued. They always do, but I consistently took another 2 seconds off my qualifying time.
We ended up in a testy discussion as I wanted to run the race with this wing and they didn't want me to. We finally agreed we would but if it wasn't going well, we would do a quick adjustment. We wouldn't but it shut them up.
We flew back to the house and had a quiet evening. Oliver made us a light dinner. Turns out he did most of the cooking. No gender roles here. It was fantastic too.
I'm not sure what everyone else did, but I went to bed early. I woke up with the alarm with Leslie cuddled up with me. It was nice.
She flew me over and went back for the others. Orlando came with me as he got to be in the pits this time. He was a star in carts now and he doesn't know it yet but Marco is going to let him try both a Formula E car and an IndyCar. I don't know about Indy cars yet, but he is close and two years younger. His confidence is high and he is carving lines in carts that match mine. Give him an F1 car and we would take 1-2. He is getting that good. I told him that. I got a big smile and a hug. God I love him. Hell, he is my big brother now. He is big and strong and a freaking model.
Anyway.
I'll let Mom take over for a bit.
I just had to tell a funny story. Justin and his family arrived early on race day, with a two person security team. They arrived in two big SUVs. We shared we were all flying to the race and had plenty of room. Justin and his family were all in with the idea.
His security team was decidedly not. They didn't have a clue who we were. We got that. I wasn't sure what to do, given Justin had already vouched for us. Finally Justin jumped in.
"Guys, are you familiar with the Hayden foundation and their leader, Chris Hayden?," said Justin.
"Absolutely," said the security team leader. "They call her the kingmaker. Incredibly powerful woman. I've not seen her, but I've read about her. Perhaps the most respected political figure in America."
"If the kingmaker, as you called her, vouched for this family, would they be OK?," said Justin.
"Well, it is unorthodox, but that would certainly make me more comfortable," he said. OK, I had to stifle a laugh. So did Justin. His son couldn't, and actually laughed out loud, which got him a funny look from both members of the security team. Justin waved Chris over.
"I'd like to introduce you to Chris Hayden. These folks are her family. This is her Mom, Amy, and her Dad, Bob, her brother and sister, Orlando and Leslie, and their friends, Charlotte, and Oliver," said Justin.
Yeah, you can imagine the looks that got. At all of us, but particularly Chris. She stuck her hand out and just waited. Finally he shook it. He still didn't understand. His partner tapped him on the shoulder and handed him his phone. Yeah, we knew this part.
"Seriously?," he said. "You're Chris Hayden?" Chris just stood there and smiled.
"Yes, and I can vouch for my family," she said. "Can we go now? We can't be late. My sister is on the pole." Yeah, that didn't help. At all. But, he just waved us all aboard. We got on and everybody strapped in, while Leslie and Chris did the preflight check. I don't think he was quite watching that part, as when they got on and shut the door, he was already strapped in. He didn't react and move fast enough when the girls sat in the cockpit and took off. I think he was going to have a heart attack, but finally he just sat back.
Roll with it. Our motto.
Finally it is race time. We get to do two last laps to check out the course if we want. I want. All looks good. We are finally off but on lap 9 there was an accident. It is behind me since I am in the lead, but they radio me as the safety car pulls out in front of me. I actually laugh as it is an E63s wagon. If only Mom was at the wheel. Oh hell, I'm asking for next year.
Luckily no one was hurt beyond bruised egos, but it took out the cars in 2nd, 3rd, and 5th. The car in 4th was my teammate and he slithered through. That left us 1 and 2 and barring something catastrophic that's how we would finish. The crash took out all the real competition. We just kept pulling away, slowly but surely. I pulled away from him too, you know, my wing, my line. I kept thinking about how Orlando could run this line. We were going to Pennsylvania soon. I wanted to see him in an IndyCar. I don't care if Mom has to fund it, he might just run St. Pete.
It is only a 70 lap, 2 hour race so not that long and then I pulled into the winner circle. I'd radioed my teammate to follow me right in. They weren't expecting it, but nobody complained. Certainly not Mercedes given the photo op of their two cars together.
Shortly we were on the raised podium. It's way up in the air. Champagne was flying. Who should step out from the door but Justin. I know that wasn't planned but the crowd went wild. Hell even I was excited.
Finally it all died down and I met the family at the helicopter. There was just enough seats to include me, thanks goodness. I was wet and smelled like sweat and champagne. Ugh.
We got back to the house and as we flew up we all saw the 475 at the dock. Damn she had made good time. Cut off a full day. Leslie couldn't resist and landed on it, freaking out the security team. It took Dad quickly telling them it was ours to calm them down. I think they imagined a kidnapping at sea.
We climbed down to a welcoming committee. Jenny, Billy I, Alison, and Blake were on board. I don't exactly know why, but so were Hunter and Hallie. Nice. As you can imagine, our guests startled them.
"Everybody up for dinner?," asked Alison. "We have a two big standing ribs in the oven and plenty of lobster tails. Enough for everyone."
Nobody turned her down. Even the security detail joined in. I think they appreciated being included. Are you kidding? They sat at the table with us. Justin wouldn't have it any other way. Too bad he wasn't eligible for President. Chris would get him elected.
Monday rolled around and we had a cruise with Oliver and Charlotte's Dad, Charley. He arrived right at 9AM, as planned. We didn't realize it, but we had actually met him when we picked up the Searay. We had a bit of reconnection as all five of us sat at the kitchen table. Dad and I could both tell he was a bit nervous.
"You seem a bit nervous," I said, putting it out there. "Is something bothering you? Charlotte and Oliver are family now, which means you are too. There is absolutely and utterly nothing you could tell us that would be an issue."
He looked at Oliver and Charlotte and finally Charlotte laughed.
"Dad, they know we're brother and sister. They know everything. There is nothing to worry about. We spent the night together. Together. I can personally attest that Bob is an amazing fuck and so can Oliver. Oliver can attest that Morgan is too," said Charlotte. "This will be quite a cruise for you too."
Charley laughed. "I wasn't sure and our situation is unusual. You're also the kid's new employer," he said.
"Nope," said Dad, which got him some looks. "We don't have employees. We continue to expand our family. Morgan meant it when she said Charlotte and Oliver are family. Perhaps it would make you less nervous if Morgan or I blew you?" Yes, Dad laughed when he said that, but I know he was serious. Charley is fucking hot. And I am sure a hot fuck.
Just then Jenny wandered into the kitchen. She came to tell us we were ready to cast off and to just come out when we were ready. Oh. Charley liked Jenny. Who wouldn't? She's early forties and looks fifteen years younger. Her D cups were on display in a tiny bikini top, and she was wearing white shorts. SHORT white shorts. Commando white shorts and yes, that was obvious. We all got up and followed her and Charley made sure he was right behind her, enjoying the view. He quickly caught up and started making small talk with her. Oh, I think they were going to click. Everybody else was on board, so Charley was going to have a lot of people to meet. I'm sure he and Billy will get along as they have shared interests. Boats. I meant boats. Oh hell, I'm sure more than that too.
We walked out the back of the house. The water side. Charley looked up and saw the 475 for the first time.
"What the fuck?," he said. "I thought we were going out on your Searay. What in the hell is that?"
Yeah, we laughed. Jenny took over and told him all about it. He was enthralled. With the boat too. We took the elevator up, and everyone was just milling about. Hunter and Hallie were in the pool, with Chris and Orlando. Yeah, they were all naked. We're outside guys. You're not supposed to be. At least they weren't fucking. They all got out and walked over to introduce themselves. Oh, Charley liked it and clearly little Charley did too, although he didn't look that little. The kids all looked at Dad, and he smiled and nodded. Hallie took the initiative.
"Hi. My name is Hallie. Would you like to fuck me? I'm very horny," she said. Hard to be more direct that that! Charley looked at me and I just smiled.
"Why yes, I would like to do that very much," said Charley.
"Can my brother Hunter fuck you too?," asked Hallie. Hunter walked over and stood next to Hallie.
"I'm Hunter," he said. He stuck out his hand and Charley shook it.
"Why I'd like that very much too," said Charley. "Where?" Each kid took a hand and led him to the elevator.
And that's how Charley's day started. It only got better. For all of us. I particularly enjoyed that he had a thick 8 inch uncut cock. That and his never ending stamina. Their entire family is great fun. GREAT fun.
When he wasn't fucking someone, he was sitting with Jenny. Close to Jenny. I think there was something there. I hope so.
We would pick them up at the factory and our three drivers would get three days of coaching from a factory team. I might drive for Mercedes but Ferrari was on board for this. Heck we owned all their coolest historic cars.
Dad had upped the order to three, and yes, stunned Charlotte. Turns out they were only $300k each so we were going to field a full team of Charlotte, Orlando, and Mom. It took some arguing for Orlando, but his being the cart champion helped. We also committed to a ton of seat time. There were only 7 races starting in January in Daytona. Dad asked Amai to rent all 7 tracks for three days each so they could practice. Charlotte was confused until we explained the cars would fly in the BFP without a problem. We invited Leo to join us at the track to get some seat time in the 488C. After all, he is a past champion. That clearly got Mom thinking.
"Leo," said Mom, over the phone. "You're familiar with the series?" He clearly was. "Would you like to run in it? We can buy a fourth car. You could run the US and Europe." We all heard the scream over the phone. Amai heard it and put in the order for the fourth one. Sure.
We'd all go to Italy. We couldn't wait. We missed Sophia and her kids. Oh Elena. Well, and Luca. And Sophia.
Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. I think I'll hand off to Mom for our cruise home. Oh, Charley came along, but you knew he would, didn't you?
Our trip took us to Quebec City and we stopped off for a couple days. Clearly a city to which we would return. We wound our way to Halifax. So far we had run fast but not crazy fast. Being boat people, Charlotte and Oliver both commented on the fact that we were cruising on a ship at 30 knots. We would have gone faster but that was the limit on the waterway. Nobody told them it would go faster. Finally we were on open water and Jenny invited the three newcomers up into the fly bridge.
Once they sat down, Jenny opened her up. She was going to do a short sprint at top speed. I'm not sure any of us had experienced it yet. I didn't know them as well as Bob and Morgan but they sure were nice and, um, fun, and knew boats. Until now.
The speed kept climbing until we hit 120 knots.
"That can't be," said Oliver. "It can't."
"Well, I'd be careful out on deck," I said. "We don't want anyone blown overboard."
"How?," said Charlotte. Jenny explained the jet drive. They just laughed.
I mentioned we were going to stop in New York for a day or two. I shared that Orlando wanted to visit a friend and we had an apartment. I also mentioned we might see some other friends.
"We will be there by mid afternoon," said Jenny. "Took me a bit to find a place to dock. Finally rented a spot at the cruise terminal."
This was our life. Flying and cruising around while our kids did cool things. I did have to focus more on the foundation but I'd given Masako more latitude and she was doing great.
I admit the Ferrari challenge was exciting. I'm glad Charlotte joined our family, and not just because of the racing. Her Dad was a doll too. Yes I got to play too. Repeatedly. We all did. Like you heard, stamina.
We docked about two. Amai had arranged a pilot to fly our helicopter over to the 475. He would come pick it up when we returned. He left and we all flew to the apartment. Helicopter two for our newest family members. They were still getting used to it. We landed in the apartment and went down to the living room. Yes we got the "is all this yours?" questions.
They finally noticed our patio wasn't empty. We knew but let them discover it. Scarlett, Robert, and Chadwick were all sitting at a table chatting with Camila. YT and Ed Sheeran were standing over nearer the edge, looking at the view and chatting. Just then Taylor and Dua walked out of the wine room each carrying a couple bottles of wine.
Hell, it was all still surreal to us. We laughed because everyone was always thanking us for introducing THEM to new friends. We crossed so many genres. Music, acting, business.
I saw the light bulb go on for Charlotte and Oliver. It is a definable look. They just realized after all these days who the kids were. I think it took them standing together talking to Scarlett. They turned to me and I just nodded.
"Is this normal for you?," they asked.
"I'm not sure it will ever be normal," I said. "But it is common." Just then, Common walked by from the bathroom.
"Yeah, it is Common," he said, with a laugh as he passed. We just lost it and everybody stared. Hell, we'd never even met him, but here he was.
Just then Orlando and Camila broke into an a capella version of their Havana mix. At the right time, YT walked over to do his part. Fucking awesome. I loved it when they performed.
When they were done, Morgan and Ed started doing Everything had Changed with Morgan doing Taylor's part. Halfway through Taylor jumped in and she and Morgan harmonized beautifully. Charlotte and Oliver were mesmerized.
It just kept going. Finally after a dozen songs everyone crowded together and sang Somebody to Love with all four of ours in the middle surrounded by their friends. We all cheered at the end.
Robert stood up and said "When is dinner?"
So off we went to Thai food. Anurat and Charlie had bought the building and expanded so there was plenty of room for us. I think I mentioned we convinced them to open a NYC place too. Such a weird and diverse group. Oliver and Charlotte got to meet everyone as they all made it a point to introduce themselves. Cool friends for sure. Our wines sure flowed. We pretended to not notice that Morgan and Orlando were sneaking drinks. Orlando was stealing from Camila which was no surprise. Morgan was cozied up with Ed. Can't say I blamed them. No, not in that way. We knew Ed was engaged.
We closed the place down at 2am and stumbled out way back to the apartment. All of us. Scarlett and Robert disappeared to their apartment and most of us had beds but a bunch found couches and even slept out on the patio. Safer for sure given the wine consumption. That would that make the cover of People if they knew! Charlotte gave me a quizzical look when she saw Camila and Orlando head downstairs. I just shrugged. They weren't particularly discreet with this group. I pretended not to notice when Taylor followed Morgan down. I don't know if anything happened. Don't need to know. Oh, YT just went down the stairs with Leslie and Chris. Most people don't realize he is such a sweet guy. I'm sure they were just comparing songs or something. Or something. We finally headed down. With Oliver and Charlotte, of course.
Everybody was still there and Robert and Scarlett were back and had brought Sam. I noticed Lorde taking to Taylor. There were a few others but before I could see who I noticed someone come up the stairs and it was Orlando, with Camila and, wait, Grace? Together? I waved him over and the other two picked up plates.
"What gives?," I asked.
"Grace just dropped by. She knows about Camila. I told her a long time ago. It is cool," said Orlando. "They have even become friends. We were down looking at some video in the editing room. They're going to collaborate."
Well Orlando has it all worked out.
I saw chairs setup out on the porch and someone had already setup the sound system and Red cameras. Ah, Morgan. She liked it as much as Bob and was as good. A good old fashioned jam session. All morning people would go sit and sing. Sometimes alone. Sometimes in groups. Some had guitars. Others sang a capella. All were amazing. Robert and Sam got up and did a dramatic reading. It was amazing.
Chadwick and Michael B. reenacted the battle from Black Panther. When the hell did Michael B show up? It is 8 in the morning.
This went on all day. People wandered in and out. Lunch appeared and was inhaled. People wandered up and down the stairs. Somehow we even had two maids working. How does this even happen?
Oh, I went downstairs a few times but I'm not naming names. Bob went with me some. So did Oliver and Charlotte. They had fun. I think they were finally understanding our lives. At some point it was decided that everyone would head to the 475 and continue this in Florida. Seriously. Almost everyone loved the idea. I did talk to Grace's parents and they were cool with it too. I saw Camila had backed off. I talked to her and she thought it was sweet and wouldn't get in the way. She is sweet too and I told her. Then she invited me downstairs. Oops. I just named a name. We had fun. At one point we realized she was older than me. Yeah, well. She was coming with us too and it wasn't awkward. Nice. She was a hell of a lot of fun on our last family night.
We all met at the 475, since some had to go home and pack. I didn't even pay attention to who came, just ran into them on the cruise. Jenny wasn't in a hurry, so we bopped along at about 40 knots. Anything faster made it really windy on the deck. I know that the kids took turns at the helm so Jenny and Charley could spend time together. We ate well. We played. The slide was a big win. So was the jaccuzi. We kept a decent library of current novels on board and it had a sign to feel free to take them home to finish. I saw a number of people just enjoying a book on a chaise lounge. I'll bet this group never gets much of a break and never does where no one bothers them, but here they're with their friends.
We finally pulled into the dock at our house. Some of the people, maybe even the majority, had never been there, so we fielded a lot of our typical questions. All in there was about 30 of us. Amai had told me she arranged for the outside patio at the Island Grille. Cool beans. It was almost dinner time, so we told everyone to dress around business casual and headed out. We caravanned and all our guests had a ball. We happened to have too many exotics at the house and needed to rearrange, but we emptied the garage and the museum. Probably $200M in cars heading up to the restaurant. Sure. At least Bob didn't drive the 917 this time. No, he drove a $17M 1961 Ferrari convertible. I rode with him. We looked glorious. Orlando looked great with Grace in a 1937 Mercedes 540 K Spezial. YT took the 1956 Aston Martin DBR1 with Lorde. $60M in those three cars alone. We won't tell him until we're home. Freaks people out. They'd blocked the entire front parking lot for us. Why not, it looked good for them.
When we got there, we let Chris lead the way. She is the Island Grille superstar. There wasn't much line which is good, but we heard all the gasps as we walked by. Let's face it, we'd brought Taylor, Lorde, Common, Camila, Ed, and more with us. Oh, and Robert, Scarlett, and Sam. Heck, even our kids get gasps, so throw in Taylor and Scarlett and people almost melt. We were outside and had the whole patio, so it was pretty private, but a lot of people were trying to sneak pictures. Everyone was nice about it. As always, the food was great. Everyone was careful or had a designated driver. It was hilarious. Most of the cars were driven home by the youngest drivers. Why not.
The next few days was great fun. Lots of music. The gocart track never stopped. Tubing and skiing. Just boating. Some helicopter tours. It was pretty special for most of our guests because they got to be silly kids having fun without having to do it in public. It was nice that we fit in. Somehow our family managed to fit in with everyone, even though we were still in awe every day. Guess we're just fun to hang out with. We're more fun than this group understood, but that's cool. At least Camila got laid. I don't know about Grace. Not my business.
Eventually everyone drifted back to wherever they needed to be. We ended up with a day with just the family. Pretty damn rare. You'd think we would have spent it in bed, and we did a bit, but mostly we hung out and caught up. Our lives are insane, even though none of us has a real job. Leslie had her first Blue Angels show soon, so she practiced a lot. Chris spent as much time in her boats as she could. She recruited Orlando as her throttle guy, at least for practice, since Leslie was busy. I do have to turn this over to Morgan for a bit to finish out this entry.
I arranged everything with Marco, but didn't tell Orlando other than I wanted him to come to Pennsylvania with me during my next practice with Marco. I'm sure he suspected, but was cool about it. We got a ride up, but they just dropped us, so it was just the two of us. They brought us in the BFP, so I had my Porsche.
I was looking forward to quality time with my brother. They put us into adjoining rooms. I planned on benefiting from that. We got in late in the afternoon and were on our own until the next morning. We went out for a nice dinner and caught up on so much. He had his life, I had mine, and we passed sometimes, but we have always been so close. It was always our job to protect Leslie. We didn't have to do that anymore. Hell, our little 11 year old sister flew us up here. Weird I say. We got back to the room early and you damn well know what we did. Hell, he's a stud.
It had been a long day, so we got in bed together. He whispered in my ear that tonight was my night. He put all his skills to work. No one is better at making a woman feel loved than Orlando. Seriously. He's called the virgin whisperer for a reason and he showed me every single bit of it. We started off with gentle kisses that got more passionate. Then he worked his way down my body. By the time he got where I really wanted him to go, I was so ready that I went right off. He held me there forever and the slid back up my body and slipped right in. This was love and passion. It was gentle and amazing. We both got off together. He rolled us on our side and stayed inside me. I think we actually dozed that way. When I woke up, it was morning, and he was spooning me from behind and gently fucking me. This time it didn't stay gentle. This turned into a fuck. One hell of a fuck.
We had woken up early and had to be at the track at 9. Orlando wasn't stupid and was up early and excited. Even after our fuck, I had to calm him down. Twice. That helped. We got to the track and were already in our fire suits, hot or not. We pulled into the pits and Marco saw us pull up. He must have noticed what we were driving as he waved us right out onto the track. We had a hoot doing a half dozen laps in the GT2 RS. Fucking fast little car. Not IndyCar fast, but still pretty fast. Orlando and I pulled back in laughing.
"You're laughing Orlando and didn't wet yourself?," said Marco. "You have a future in racing. I watched. I think I would have wet myself. Can you match her times in that car?" Orlando just shrugged and I handed him the keys. I knew damn well he had memorized my line and I didn't know anyone else in the world that could match it. It took him a couple laps, but he quickly got up to speed and ended up beating my fastest lap by just a hair. He pulled back in and got out.
"I guess I can," said Orlando, with a grin. Marco just laughed.
"Damn," he said. "It must run in the family. Follow me." We followed him into the garage and there was a Formula E and an IndyCar both sitting there.
"I was going to start you in the E," said Marco. "But that's a waste of time. Climb in." He pointed at the IndyCar. Orlando looked at me and I just smiled. The crew came over and they briefed him on the controls. He's a quick study so it didn't take long. They handed him a helmet -- he needed the special helmet, which include the neck restraint and the radios. They pushed him out and did a radio test. They gave me a headset too. It only took a minute and they fired him up and he pulled out. I held the track record, and no one else was within 3 seconds. This will be interesting.
His first laps were tentative as he got used to the car. When he came around to finish the third lap he was clearly ON IT. I watched his split times in each corner and the live video. A couple turns he braked even later than I do. He absolutely ran my line. When he came around, he did a cool down lap and pulled in. He'd beaten every other driver that had driven this track -- except me. He was a full second ahead of the pack, and a little less than two behind me.
Marco was jumping up and down.
"Holy fuck," said Marco. I'd never even heard him cuss before. "You beat every driver not named Morgan on your fourth fucking lap. Fourth! This family is fucking insane."
"Yeah, I would have beat her, but it has too much wing. Can you take off a degree and let me go back out?," he said. My brother, for sure. Marco and his team didn't even hesitate. They adjusted the wing and he headed back out. He ran ten more laps and got closer and closer to me, but I still held about a half second advantage. He was fucking good.
"You're fucking good," said Marco. "Let's do this. The next race is Iowa. We'll run you there, but you'll shine the next week in Toronto. Can you both run?" We looked at each and smiled and both nodded.
"You can get IndyCars to approve me? You know I'm 13 years old," said Orlando.
Marco laughed. "Well, they set that standard when they let Morgan in at 15. 13 or 15 shouldn't matter. Brother of the most famous IndyCar driver in the world should win the day. The fact that you'll likely come in 1-2, particularly in Toronto, should carry some weight too," said Marco. 1-2. Who wins?
"Yeah, I'll look good in the winner circle," said Orlando, with a laugh. Yeah, that got him a punch in the arm. About then several team trucks pulled in.
"Oh, I forgot to mention. I invited some of the other teams to come practice with us," said Marco. "They're excited they might have a new rabbit. Little do they know. Kick ass Orlando."
We watched them unload and the drivers all came over to chat. I introduced Orlando. I suspect everyone assumed he was my older brother. He's a tall, handsome hunk, so it's believeable. After all, Camila. You know. They all got ready and they towed out my car. We went out in traffic, with right at a dozen cars. Slowly I started pulling away, and Orlando drafted me. No one else could even remotely keep up. It was actually pretty odd, because no one had EVER risked drafting me before. They couldn't drive my line. After about 5 laps, just as we were approaching the start finish line, Orlando pulled left and slingshot past me. All I heard on the radio was Marco laughing. Over and over. He told us both to pull in. As we pulled, Marco was pointing at the timing board.
Damn, Orlando had broken my record. Less than a tenth, but faster was faster. Now he had the benefit of the draft, but still doesn't matter. I could have spent the day trying to take it back, but I let him keep it. I'd take it eventually, but it made him a bit of a hero on his first day. At lunch, we were all sitting around shooting the shit, including Marco and Mario and the other drivers. The topic of our line came back up.
"I don't get it," said one of the other drivers. "I thought it was insane that YOU ran that line, Morgan. I knew I'd never beat your record. Then your big brother comes in and does it on the first day." With that, Orlando and I broke up laughing. Everyone was staring. Finally Marco explained.
"Um, Orlando is not her big brother," said Marco. "He is her little brother. He's 13." You can imagine the stunned silence. We went back out after lunch and at the end of the day, he'd shaved a full second off my record. Marco shared later, he was running a quarter degree less wing than I was. Damn, could I do that? I would damn well try.
Two weeks later, we found ourselves in Toronto. No house here, so we stayed on the plane. Oh, you want to know about Iowa. We came in 1-2, as expected. I won that one. I wasn't so confident about Toronto. It was going to be a fucking blast.
Oh, you don't want me to leave you hanging? We were 1-2, as I knew we would be. One of us won. You can look it up.