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Steven Lyle Jordan · 08-13-2009, 10:23 PM

11: Gail’s Place

About two hours later, I sat in Gail’s Eclipse as she got back in the car. We were in front of Fritz’s place, where we had just dropped him off after the four of us had had lunch, in celebration of the execution of The Plan. Then Gail had offered to take Fritz home, and asked me to come along. That’s right. Right in front of Pete, she asked me, and not him, to come along. And Pete didn’t mind a bit. One of these days… but I’d already thought that earlier. Right then, I just said “sure,” and rode along.

So now, Gail put the car in gear and headed back toward the Pacific. But well before we got there, she made a turn and headed into a neighborhood that so far I hadn’t seen. In no time, my eyes were bugging out of my head, as I took in multi-million-dollar mansions and hundred-thousand-dollar cars, driveway gates as tall as a house, and actual security posts, complete with suited guards.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“There’s no reason you have to hang around Pete all the time,” Gail told me.
“He didn’t seem to be doing so bad,” I commented.

“Of course not,” she said. “I paid for that apartment. But wait’ll you see how the other half lives.”

After a few twists and turns, we angled into a private driveway, and I watched as one door of a three-door garage opened up before us. The house connected to the garage wasn’t as big as most of the mansions we’d passed, but it was by no means a shack, either. We drove into the garage, and I saw a Jeep Cherokee parked in the second bay of the garage, and a bicycle in the third bay. Gail shut off the car and got out, and I followed, catching a last glimpse of the spacious front lawn before the garage door closed on it.

She opened a door to the rest of the house, and I followed her through it. Inside was almost beyond my abilities to describe… nothing like the homes I’m used to seeing, or being in. There was a lot of space, multiple levels with wide staircases bridging them, lots of chrome railings, lots of windows, and light that seemed to come in from windows I couldn’t even find. The furniture was modern and sexy-looking, and expensive-looking art hung on the walls or sat on the floors or tables. If there was an echo in the house, it might not have been from the sheer size of the place alone… I’m pretty sure sounds were bouncing in and out of my open mouth, too.

When I found my voice, I said, “Is this… really all yours?”

“Yes,” Gail nodded. “I got it cheap from a former investment banker who took what he could, then took off for Aruba.”

“I’m not going to ask what constitutes ‘cheap’,” I commented drily. “Tell me again what you do for a living… ‘cause I don’t remember you ever telling me.”

“Pete didn’t tell you I was a CPA?” Gail shook her head. “I guess he was ashamed to admit to sleeping with a corporate wonk.”

“Right. Like anyone would be ashamed to sleep with you,” I shot back amiably. “So this is why you could buy off Pete after you broke up, huh?”

“You know,” Gail said abruptly, “I didn’t bring you up here so we could talk about Pete.” She reached for my hand, and when I gave it to her, she led me to another wide, curving stairway, and we started upstairs. “You’re a smart guy, Mike,” she said as we climbed. “You could go places around here. I know people in the industry that can always use premier tech talent. And besides that, there are plenty of others that can use a bit of help now and then, but can’t afford what the absolutely criminal tech firms in this town charge.”

“Are they really that bad?” I asked.

“Don’t forget,” Gail pointed out, “San Diego is a navy town. Lots of government contractors… you know all about Beltway Bandits, being close to Washington. Here, you get the same thing… only this is a small town, so less non-government businesses around here. So the bandit contractors get to shill the locals on the side. You could make a killing as an independent IT guy in San Diego. And you could do other things as well.”

“Like what?”

Gail stopped walking, and I realized we had come to the end of the stairs, and reached a landing, beside a set of double-doors. Gail pushed the doors open, and revealed a bedroom that the porn star afore-mentioned in this story would actually have appreciated. Maybe not swooned over, but appreciated.

Gail said, “You can give me a good reason not to regret staying in San Diego near your chucklehead brother.” Then she pulled me inside, not bothering to close the door.

08-13-2009, 10:23 PM	#12
Steven Lyle Jordan Grand Sorcerer Posts: 8,478 Karma: 5171130 Join Date: Jan 2006 Device: none	11: Gail’s Place About two hours later, I sat in Gail’s Eclipse as she got back in the car. We were in front of Fritz’s place, where we had just dropped him off after the four of us had had lunch, in celebration of the execution of The Plan. Then Gail had offered to take Fritz home, and asked me to come along. That’s right. Right in front of Pete, she asked me, and not him, to come along. And Pete didn’t mind a bit. One of these days… but I’d already thought that earlier. Right then, I just said “sure,” and rode along. So now, Gail put the car in gear and headed back toward the Pacific. But well before we got there, she made a turn and headed into a neighborhood that so far I hadn’t seen. In no time, my eyes were bugging out of my head, as I took in multi-million-dollar mansions and hundred-thousand-dollar cars, driveway gates as tall as a house, and actual security posts, complete with suited guards. “Where are we going?” I asked. “There’s no reason you have to hang around Pete all the time,” Gail told me. “He didn’t seem to be doing so bad,” I commented. “Of course not,” she said. “I paid for that apartment. But wait’ll you see how the other half lives.” After a few twists and turns, we angled into a private driveway, and I watched as one door of a three-door garage opened up before us. The house connected to the garage wasn’t as big as most of the mansions we’d passed, but it was by no means a shack, either. We drove into the garage, and I saw a Jeep Cherokee parked in the second bay of the garage, and a bicycle in the third bay. Gail shut off the car and got out, and I followed, catching a last glimpse of the spacious front lawn before the garage door closed on it. She opened a door to the rest of the house, and I followed her through it. Inside was almost beyond my abilities to describe… nothing like the homes I’m used to seeing, or being in. There was a lot of space, multiple levels with wide staircases bridging them, lots of chrome railings, lots of windows, and light that seemed to come in from windows I couldn’t even find. The furniture was modern and sexy-looking, and expensive-looking art hung on the walls or sat on the floors or tables. If there was an echo in the house, it might not have been from the sheer size of the place alone… I’m pretty sure sounds were bouncing in and out of my open mouth, too. When I found my voice, I said, “Is this… really all yours?” “Yes,” Gail nodded. “I got it cheap from a former investment banker who took what he could, then took off for Aruba.” “I’m not going to ask what constitutes ‘cheap’,” I commented drily. “Tell me again what you do for a living… ‘cause I don’t remember you ever telling me.” “Pete didn’t tell you I was a CPA?” Gail shook her head. “I guess he was ashamed to admit to sleeping with a corporate wonk.” “Right. Like anyone would be ashamed to sleep with you,” I shot back amiably. “So this is why you could buy off Pete after you broke up, huh?” “You know,” Gail said abruptly, “I didn’t bring you up here so we could talk about Pete.” She reached for my hand, and when I gave it to her, she led me to another wide, curving stairway, and we started upstairs. “You’re a smart guy, Mike,” she said as we climbed. “You could go places around here. I know people in the industry that can always use premier tech talent. And besides that, there are plenty of others that can use a bit of help now and then, but can’t afford what the absolutely criminal tech firms in this town charge.” “Are they really that bad?” I asked. “Don’t forget,” Gail pointed out, “San Diego is a navy town. Lots of government contractors… you know all about Beltway Bandits, being close to Washington. Here, you get the same thing… only this is a small town, so less non-government businesses around here. So the bandit contractors get to shill the locals on the side. You could make a killing as an independent IT guy in San Diego. And you could do other things as well.” “Like what?” Gail stopped walking, and I realized we had come to the end of the stairs, and reached a landing, beside a set of double-doors. Gail pushed the doors open, and revealed a bedroom that the porn star afore-mentioned in this story would actually have appreciated. Maybe not swooned over, but appreciated. Gail said, “You can give me a good reason not to regret staying in San Diego near your chucklehead brother.” Then she pulled me inside, not bothering to close the door.