Ch 5: The Lovely Anne-Katherine Strauss

~
(Anne-Katherine)

I pause in front of the mirror before I leave my quarters. I love heading up to the sun deck in my two-piece. I don’t even bother with a sarong. I like letting the staff see how hot I am.

That’s honestly the only word I can think of to describe my look and style: Hot. Glamourous and hot. It’s just objectively true – it’s not my fault. With every passing year I get a little curvier, a little sexier. Age is truly just a number. Especially with the recent tweaks by Dr. Grossman. It’s no wonder these slutty little staff girls get nervous around me. Of course they feel threatened - by a strong, accomplished woman who’s twice their age and twice as sexy.

As I approach the glass doors leading out to the deck I hold up my cigarette and one of the latest BuilderHelper girls, very young and supposedly pretty – but not at all sexy in my opinion, although my pervy little brother Archibald (the family calls him Baron but I still call him Archibald because I know he hates it) seems to think so – gestures to show me through the doors, then she follows me, chases me while trying and eventually succeeding in lighting my cigarette for me, then runs off to the bar to get my drink. She does all of this with a smile but no eye contact, as I prefer. Look at her, you can see her ribs. Someone get her a fucking sandwich. Why is my brother into that?

As I head to my lounge chair next to the bar, I notice some new faces. The new staff boys. They’ve already been checking me out. I could feel them staring the whole way as I walked across the deck. Creepy little perverts.

One of them has been trying way too hard to get my attention and I’ve been making him wait. But finally I look over at him.

He looks stupid of course, but he really is way too young. And a little on the skinny side for my taste. Tall though. And Ma-ni-fes-ted Gods, he does look very nice in the trouser region.

I turn my head in the direction of the stairs to the lower decks. “Marcus, did you check the ages of all these ones? Marcus! HEY – MARCUS! Did you check their ages?”

My assistant Marcus emerges, breathing heavily, through the glass doors at the top the stairs that lead down to – wherever he goes when he disappears on me. “Oh yes, yes of course, always.”

Good job, Marcus. I don’t know how he hears me from down there.

Marcus catches his breath and answers again, “Yes, Ms. Anne-Katherine. They’re all very experienced with Leaders.”

“It was a yes or no question Marcus. Did you check their ages.”

“Yes.”

“Well ok then, I’ll take your word for it. Sorry I’m bitchy today Marcus. It’s just been such a busy day already.”

Marcus gives me his usual look of blank friendly patience, but I see one eyebrow lift slightly. He’s so good. He keeps me in line, keeps my busy life somewhat organized and very fun.

I look over to the boys as Marcus disappears down the stairs.

“You – Trouser Boy – come over here.”

Because none of them is actually named “Trouser Boy”, for a moment all four young BuilderHelper men standing near the edge of the sun deck simply look at me, puzzled but smiling politely. But Trouser Boy eventually realizes I’m snapping my fingers and beckoning at him in particular, calling him over to my lounge chair.

He’s beautiful but he looks so dumb. I expect him to do some kind of silly imbecilic trot, but he doesn’t. He walks like one of our runway models, looking, dare I say, confident. I guess it’s his job to be hot, so yeah.

As he strides over he’s laser-beaming a smouldering, almost threatening look right into my eyes like he’s going to sweep me off my feet, or worse, or better. I have to catch my breath for a moment.

But really. Isn’t the hunky model act a little much?

Fortunately there’s a big wave and the yacht moves suddenly, causing him to stumble for just an instant, and he regains his balance.

I laugh at him. What a fucking idiot. Where do we get these losers?

As he reaches me at my chair his facial expression changes to that default BuilderHelper resting face, a kind of happy innocence. This disappoints me. I fucking hate that look. I want to punch its fucking face. I hate these fucking people. But it’s nice to have them around.

“Are you experienced Trouser Boy?”

“Yes ma’am, I’m esperienced at things.” He’s nodding and smiling happily.

“Mathematics?”

“Um, I’m not sure.”

“What’s seven times four?”

“Oh, um, I’m not too good at numbers and stuff, Ma’am.”

“It’s forty-seven.”

“Right. Forty-seven.”

I’m shaking my head at how stupid he is. “Hey, do you know how to give a pedicure?”

“Oh, yes Ma’am! I’d love to give…”

“Stop. What I asked you was – listen carefully – do you KNOW” - I’m tapping my temple hard in frustration and over-pronouncing the words – “HOW to give a pedicure. I don’t care if you love it.”

“Yes ma’am. I know how.” He looks even happier now that I’ve barked at him.

“Well get at it, genius.”

He answers in a happy sing-song tone. “Pedicure. Right away!”

He walks quickly over to the bar, grabs his kit and does the catwalk strut back over here and now he’s kneeling and getting things out of the kit. My eyes move down from his stupid childish face. Really though. What have you got in there, Trouser Boy?

“What’s your name again, Trouser Boy?”

“Leo Ma’am.” He’s still smiling.

I touch his hair and gently grab a handful of it. Longish, dirty blonde. I’m surprised at how thick and healthy it feels. A wave of revulsion. Jealousy.

“Leo, would you like to see my private quarters?”

“Oh, yes Ma’am! I’d love that!” There’s those eyes again, looking more aggressive now. Like he’s going to have his fucking way with me. So young to be projecting so much attitude. I’m not complaining.

As we walk together toward the glass doors leading inside I toss my towel over the head of one of the other BuilderHelpers, who just stands there stupidly with the towel on his head. Leo stops in front of me and gestures for me to walk ahead through the glass door – a nice touch. Experienced indeed! We move inside, heading straight toward the private lift that will take us down to the owner’s deck.

“Marcus! I’m gone for an hour!” I assume he heard me.

Thump thump thump thump thump. My head is hitting the padded headboard but I don’t want to tell him to back off just yet. Go Trouser Boy, go! Anyway he’s enjoying me too much too interrupt him. Then I look up and he’s staring at me, like he’s studying my response.

“Fuck off, fuckface!” I punch his back repeatedly and he slows down. “You’re banging my fucking head you retard!”

“Oh, sorry Ma’am”, but he’s smirking a little bit. Little fucker knows what he’s doing. I smile.

Thump thump thump thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump

My tablet chimes. There is only one person who is able to interrupt me while it’s on DO NOT DISTURB. I know it has to be something important.

“Marcus, what the fuck. This better be important.”

“It is Ms. Anne-Katherine, Mr. Strauss Senior arriving in 26 minutes, I’m sorry I couldn’t alert you sooner, he’s stealthed out because of the current security situation.”

“Stop. Stop! STOP RETARD FUCKHEAD, STOP!” I’m hitting Trouser Boy’s back to make him stop. “Get the fuck off me stupid.”

Trouser Boy finally stops and I push him off me. He’s now sitting up on his knees on the bed, looking at me, smiling as he breathes heavily, eyes wide. He’s sweating. He looks like someone who just achieved a personal best doing burpees or something.

“Get lost now. You’ll have to shower in your own quarters.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He’s still smiling, gathering his clothes.

As he heads toward the door I call after him. “Hey, Trouser Boy.” He stops and turns. “Not bad. Tell your friends how hot I am.”

He gives a little fist-pump and says “YESSS!” like he won the game, and he struts away smiling. Fuck, he’s actually hot. So young though.

“Marcus! Why the fuck is he coming here? He should be on his way to Montevideo.” I’m already getting up, moving quickly to the shower.

Marcus sounds as rushed as I feel. “Yes, Ms. Anne-Katherine, I know, change of plans, do you need anything from me, 20 minutes, they’re ahead of schedule.”

Fuck. Piss me off. I have to get dressed and ready.

“I’ll be up there in ten minutes. Is there a problem? Did Earth Day go well? Anything I need to know?”

“Uh, yeah, uh, no, sounds like it went very well. Possibly a big contract in the works I think, sounds like he’s happy according to Thomassen, I think he wants to celebrate or something.”

I exhale. “Oh, thank fuck. See you in 10. Please have any info you can, ready for me. Something I can say I was doing.”

“Will do. You have to hurry now, sorry.”

Twenty minutes to get ready for Grandfather. A quick bump of the real powder, no neuropak shit. Not enough to look like I’m high. Grandfather loves me, I’m his favourite. I never have to worry.

“Baron!” Skinny little tart. She runs across the sun deck to my brother, stops short and waits for a moment, wide eyed and smiling. He opens his arms, giving her permission to hug. She lunges at him and they embrace.

Archibald has just been dropped off on the landing pad overlooking the deck and made his way down the stairs. Bastard always manages to impress Grandfather with his exploits.

Right now his only focus is the little slut fawning over him. “Aw, Nastya, my little devil, how’ve you been? Okay? Is my sister being nice to you?” he looks over at me slyly as he grabs her skinny ass. She’s nuzzling his chest and whimpering. So ridiculous. She’s not even half his age.

I look over at Marcus and his eyes give me a look of subtle cringe.

Patting Nastya’s non-existent ass, Archibald coos, “Ok, ok, shh, I missed you too baby, ok, stop now baby, Grandfather’s coming. Go wait for me over there, ok?”

“Ok Baron!” She literally skips back to the edge of the deck and joins the other staff, all standing in a line waiting for the patriarch to arrive.

Archibald’s face is completely sun burned except for the sharp outline of ski goggles.

“How was Whistler, Archibald?” I ask.

“Fucking perfect, I mean per-fect. I bought it,” he says, shoulders bouncing as he silently laughs incredulously.

“You bought what?”

“Whistler.”

“Like the whole place? It was for sale? For revenue?”

“No no no, A.K. It’s – mine.” He’s poking himself in the chest. “Just for me. Go any time you want. It’s fully staffed and groomed. Male and female staff.”

“Ok Archie, I’ll take you up on that.” I can’t help smiling at my brother’s audacity.

The roar of jet engines interrupts us. Everyone looks up to see the five black jets hovering far above us. The belly of one jet opens up and a small swarm of drones drops out and they quickly descend and buzz around the yacht. Two of the drones drop automated sniffer dogs which run around the sun deck sniffing for…what? Explosives I guess. Everyone looks a little nervous as the sniffer dogs inspect.

Finally the dogs sit still. Four of the jets take off with a massive roar and the remaining one opens up, allowing one large drone to descend. It’s Grandfather. Fuck, I hope my parents aren’t with him. And I’ll literally puke if I have to see my brother Reginald and his wife Rebecca, nee Adler, who is a bitch from a poor family. They went to Earth Day with their kids of course.

My parents created some drama because Archie and I didn’t want to go to Earth Day. Well, Archie and I frankly do not give a shit. We’re busy people.

Archie discreetly gestures at me to wipe my nose as the drone sets itself gently down on the landing pad above the sun deck. We wait.

Grandfather appears at the railing above the deck, arms outstretched.

“My progeny!” he shouts triumphantly.

All eyes are locked on Grandfather as he makes his way down the stairs, gingerly, two of his assistants in front, two behind.

I glance over at Archibald and with some satisfaction I see his Adam’s apple move and his smile falter as Grandfather approaches.

But I love seeing Grandfather. I’m his favourite.