I blink at him. "For real?"
"I would not jest about that, my dear."
"I've lost my purse, which had my phone in it. I was gonna get a new one in Vegas."
He flaps an elegant hand. "Just put me on the list. High up, if you could. Now, I have a meeting—Camilla and I are opening a new venture together and we have to pick the girls for it."
"Treat them well, Jean-Paul," I say. "Or no clothes for you."
He grins. "Threats. I like it. But yes. That's Camilla's purview."
A few more farewells, and we're in the limo, which is the poshest thing I've ever placed my ass upon. Aside from Saxon's dick, that is, but that's different. Quilted leather, handstitched. Sumptuous, elegant, extravagantly overstated wealth. It's so long you could throw a football.
The ride to the airfield is brief—the jet is a slick, sleek, blacked-out, futuristic-looking thing, and the interior makes my previous statement regarding posh places to put my ass to shame—this…this is the ultimate in luxury. I almost don't want to exist in here. I might get it dirty.
"What the hell kind of jet is this? I mean, I've never even been on a regular jetliner, but this seems ridiculous," I say as I follow Saxon's path to a seat in the back.
The seats are cocoons, enveloping you in soft, sensuous, comfort. Each one has a heater, a cooling function, massaging. An experimental press of a button sets something in motion behind me—a soft whirr. The cocoon becomes all-enveloping, blocking out the world all around. All is white and silent.
"Welcome." A smooth female voice comes from everywhere and nowhere. "Valkyrie Aerospace Solutions is dedicated to your comfort and safety. If you need anything, you have but to say the word, and our automated attendant system will accommodate your every need. For refreshments, say 'I'm hungry' or 'I'm thirsty.' For entertainment, simply say 'I want to watch a movie.' If you would like the Sensory Immersion Pod to adjust for sleep, say, 'I'm sleepy.'"
"No shit," I mumble. "The fuck is this?"
I press the button again. "Goodbye, and thank you for choosing Valkyrie Aerospace Solutions," says the voice.
Once the screen has retracted, I look over at Saxon, who has just done the same thing. He laughs. "This shit is wild, huh?" he says.
"I didn't know anything like it even existed," I say.
"Me either. I've heard of Valkyrie, but never been on one of their jets."
I shrug. "Enlighten the poor, please."
He chuckles. "Well, first, you're not poor. I had Jeeves make you an unlimited expense account."
"Jeeves?" I ask, laughing.
"Graham. Inside joke. I've called him that forever."
"How unlimited?" I ask.
He shrugs. "You may have a hard time buying a small third-world country?"
I blink. "Seriously."
Another shrug. "My parents were worth hundreds of millions, at least. I never knew exactly, still don't, and still don't care. Not my money. Not theirs, either—none of us did anything to earn it, we just got born into it. I made my own—blood money, though, so I feel weird spending it, now."
"So, I could…" I try to think of something ridiculous. "I could…buy a…A Koenigsegg?
"I don’t know what that is."
"A car. Six million..ish. Only seven were made."
He snorts. "Small potatoes, babe."
I shake my head. "That's stupid."
"But true. You'll make that in interest."
