Paradise island

5. Sam

Sam's jaw hit the floor like a grand piano falling from a hundred-story balcony.

The Belle Estate was the most beautiful house he'd ever seen. Well worth the trouble and side trip. And if the outside architecture and surroundings weren't incredible enough, the inside was even more amaz- ing. As the boys and their hosts all crowded into the foyer, dark wooden beams supported vaulted ceilings, glass outer walls reflected the kaleido- scope of flora and fauna from the outside world, and a stone hearth and chimney rose into the apex of the tallest peak.

Come in, relax, forget your troubles, the house seemed to say, and Sam had to admit the house really did seem to invite them in. It even had a pineapple-y scent. And Trey got to live here for free? Lucky fucker

"You have a really gorgeous home," Sam said, admiring the myriad artifacts all over the walls. Every surface displayed expensive paintings, African carvings, framed photos, sculpted art, bronze Buddhas, colorful tapestries, handmade musical instruments, and crudely made folk art.

"Why, thank you!" Georgia's smile beamed brightly.

Her voice drawled with a tinge of a Southern accent that made Sam wonder if she was born in Hawaii or moved here from the South, kind of like how he and Colby had moved to L.A. from Kansas. She did a little twirl with her arms extended. "Mi casa es su casa. I'll let Trey show you boys around while I prepare some refreshments."

"Thank you. That would be very nice," Colby said.

"Yes, thank you," Nate and Alex added.

After she whirled away, Sam quietly mocked Colby's politeness. It was always funny to hear him talk formally, considering how laid-back they were with each other. "That would be very nice," he imitated Colby.

"Shut it," Colby mumbled.

The boys wandered around the museum-like home, examining every little detail but touching nothing. A lot of the items looked rare and expensive to replace should they break anything, if replaceable at allPhotos of Georgia with Trey were on almost every shelf. Sam kept a lookout for older ones of Georgia with her late husband, but all the pics were recent with Trey.

"This is the living room." Trey led them into a sunken area padded with a light beige carpet. On the leather sectional was a Gucci bag, opened with all the contents pouring out-lipstick, prayer beads, tissues, hand sanitizer, pill bottle, even a long ladies' wallet covered in stars and moons...there for any thief to take. Not that they would ever.

Shoes were piled into corners, and desks were covered with note- books, pens, highlighters, staplers, and cookbooks. As beautiful as the house was, it wasn't magazine-cover-shoot ready. It definitely had a lived- in look with stuff everywhere, bordering on hoarding.

Sam stopped in front of a wall with more framed photos of Georgia with different people, all of them familiar. "Is that...?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Yep, Barack Obama," Trey replied.

"What?" Colby zoomed in to take a closer look. "Seriously? Here, in this house?"

Yep, they've all visited. Laird Hamilton, Sylvester Stallone, Vin Diesel, Lucille Ball, several presidents, including Obama, Bush, Bush Senior, Clinton."

"Duuude..." Sam marveled.

When he looked closer, he realized Colby was right. Each photo depicting Georgia with a celebrity had been taken in the very same house they were standing in. It made Sam want to ask Trey who was Georgia really, this woman he'd never heard of before? What made her such an influencer? But he thought it'd be impolite to pry.

As they crossed into a parlor with Trey leading the way, all four guys turned to give each other silent looks of Holy shit! and Can you believe this place? Quietly, Nate pointed out a masquerade-type mask covered with glued feathers and sequins, the kind you'd see in a Mardi Gras parade, covering a large bronze Buddha bust sitting atop a low mahog any cabinet.