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Chapter 11

Throughout the remainder of the quickly passing year I was on a constant move with Jeffrey. Attending various dinner parties, mostly with other esteemed billionaires and widely acclaimed scientists. Jeffrey likes to surround himself with the most brilliant and powerful of minds, filling his little black book with some of the most esteemed and even infamous people in today's wealthy society. It was during those intellectual gatherings that my body was also put on the banquet menu but this time for a powerful senator George Mitchell and another prominent Nobel-Prize winning scientist who's name would be mentioned but for all the life of me can no longer remember. They would be only some of the recognizable figures of the high society that became added to my list of clientele, of course being introduced to for a lot more than just a client of massage.

As an amusement to Jeffrey's associates I also knew my place was to entertain but not to every desired content. I was to show them a good time but not the way I would have to use technique and effort for Jeffrey. The very teachings from Jeffrey himself, or my tutor, as he liked to so eloquently put it. Consistently being used and adored for the likeliness of my youthful looks I was becoming very accustomed to my lifestyle with Jeffrey, never really relaxing into it, but just accepting this as being as good as it will ever get for me. I didn't think I should be complaining, wasn't I being offered a life in exchange for servitude? Just letting the signs of my anxiety and depression pass me by while I blanketed them with my pills, suffocating under a blanket of pain is all I was really doing.

I spent Christmas and the New Years holidays with Jeffrey in N.Y.C, who doesn't celebrate the occasion, as he is of Jewish descent. Not that he was a religious man anyways, I never even saw him celebrate Hanukah either. We firstly stayed at his ranch in Santa Fe for a week, then left for a long plane trip to Paris, France where we all suffered jet lag for the next twenty four hours. We all stayed in a grand hotel with a view the Champs' Elyse.

Emmy and I shared a room and with her gifted ability to make new contacts in just a few hours, she brought out a jay to share on the rooftop at nighttime while we were overlooking the lit up Eiffel Tower. We never got really close as buddies but we both knew what we were indebted to and felt each other's sorrows. All four of us went out shopping at Chanel, D&G, Ralph Lauren, and many other little exclusive boutiques the following afternoon. As a gift Jeffrey bought me a white terry clothed goose feathered sofa and had it sent back to my apartment in Florida, and bought some new tapestries to have sent back to Santa Fe for his ranch.

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We also visited his up and coming Paris apartment. It was a modern, typical flat being refurbished, and we went to see how it was all looking. Jeffrey liked to fuss about every detail and harass the builder's about their work, changing last minute details at a whim.

Days and many croissants later we left for Spain feeling bloated and sleepy. We only stayed in Spain for the afternoon, going to see another astounding Moroccan castle for Jeffrey to replicate at one of his many mansions. It was only a short plane ride to Tangier, Africa for more castles hopping. We arrived at the historic landmark and the only five star hotel in Tangier called El Minzah in the village of Ville Nouvelle. The city and outskirts were still very hostile at the time, females being warned to not walk the streets alone and not to leave the house after dark or be at risk of being raped or worse.

When we got to the room, it was oozing with every expected bit of extravagance that a luxurious historical palace should offer until I was greeted with a pile of monkey poo in the very middle of my bed. Not a happy camper I called Jeffrey, Ghislane and Emmy into my adjoining room and they all had quite a good laugh at my expense. Within a moments notice of a complaint call to the front desk and we had an attendant cleaning up my bed linen. The cleaner noticed the window was still opened, he warned not to leave it ajar at nighttime just in case another monkey wanted to make himself comfortable in my quarters.

Ghislane joked that maybe I should keep it open I might find a suitable husband before I get any older. Always the instigator of a good joke but unable to take one herself she didn't like when I poked back that it was more in her recent taste of men, since she loved to brag about her rendezvous with her various lovers. Once she came back giddy as a schoolgirl with an explosion of news, with all the build up and excitement in her voice you'd think she was the next crown princess, but she had given George Clooney a blowjob in the bathroom at some random event, she never let that one down.

We all went to explore the towns surrounding Moroccan castles and meet their royalty that lived in them. Jeffrey's personal interior designer's met us at the residences. They walked around hurriedly, scribbling notes into their clipboards and whispering between themselves. The palaces were historically unique and beautiful but I wondered how could they live so grandeur behind these walls when they lived in a city of such poverty stricken squabble. Beggars lined the streets, people could just go missing and no one could care less, and you heard of barbaric murders happening every night. Against the advice of the Palace Attendant and Jeffrey's wishes, I decided to take a stroll one afternoon, mainly just to take photos of exotic Africa and do some shopping in the village markets but I ended up being intrigued by a group of young children playing in the streets.

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