This is a [SerialStory], as denoted by the tag [SS_]. It is titled 'Submersible.'
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Here is a link to part #1 so you can start at the beginning.
Submersible, Part 1
Mr. and Mrs. Kevin and Rebecca Boseman were on the smooth marble walkway clicking toward the centerpiece mansion of Oceanside Estates. "Beautiful," she remarked of it, and of the manicured landscaping, and of the modern, low-profile architecture ahead. "You too," he replied.
Rebecca was a grounded woman, given her stature; her formals were not entirely comfortable for her. A mostly unsocial workaholic, Kevin strode aside her with a posture chosen to match the occasion. Like the other guests to the billionaire's island, they felt fortunate to have been invited, but were curious and skeptical that no itinerary had been revealed.
The Bosemans had arrived just after a famous vocalist and aspiring starlet named Melody Moods had begun working the crowd inside. Melody's voice filled the lawn through the front door as they approached, supported by ambient sounds of a socialite crowd.
"Ah, the Bosemans. A delight to welcome your arrival. Please," the doorman said as he beckoned for Mrs. Boseman's fashionable overcoat. "My name is Silas, and I am at your service. Please feel welcome, and free to introduce yourselves to our other well respected guests."
"Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Boseman," continued a woman dressed similarly to Silas, standing just behind him. "May I introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Pelican?" she offered, as Silas turned to ready himself for the next attendee growing larger on the lawn.
"The Pelicans began with resorts on the East Coast of the United States," explained the second host, "...and now hold many properties on coasts throughout the world. And The Bosemans, of course, are world famous for their media enterprises in Canada, and own both major sports franchises in Winnipeg."
The couples greeted each other warmly and with mutual civility, though they were meeting for the first time. "We are familiar!" remarked Mr. Stephen Pelican with a smile. "As are we," Rebecca responded, "... with Pelican Sands, that is."
"My name is Melissa," spoke the slender beauty as she guided the Bosemans and the Pelicans forward graciously, "Silas and I represent Frederic Forenza's Estate. He expects that your every request will be met to the best of our ability. It is our hope that you will feel free, at any time, to summon us and our team with this remote signalling device. Please understand that no request is too large, and that none is too small." They each received an item that resembled the vehicle keyfobs surrendered to valet.
"Refreshments are aside the staircase, and the restrooms are just beyond," Melissa said, while gesturing that way. "When the bulk of our expected guests have arrived, we will announce further arrangements and scheduling to all. Until then, please make yourselves comfortable, enjoy the company, and explore the property freely."
The experience was extraordinary, even to these who were accustomed to lavish grandeur. The group exchanged grateful recognition that as representative of the estate, Melissa had exhibited competence and aptitude to match the culture and care in its every detail.
Melissa held her arm out expectantly, but patiently, to usher the couples into the Great Room, and upon comfortable conclusion returned to greet new visitors to the Forenza Estate. An equally well-spoken permutation of her introductory spiel could be heard behind them as the Bosemans and the Pelicans moved together toward the Great Room, and the social action within.
Melissa held her arm out expectantly, but patiently, to usher the couples into the Great Room, and upon comfortable conclusion returned to greet new visitors to the Forenza Estate. An equally well-spoken permutation of her introductory spiel could be heard behind them as the Bosemans and the Pelicans moved together toward the Great Room, and the social action within.
The room before them was an arena split by a giant staircase surrounded by mingling guests -- dining, observing, or holding court. The couples' marvelled at the artisan craftworks of this Great Room, reminiscent of the grand museums of Europe, or the mosques of the East.
Uniquely styled angle patterns that spoke of geometric truisms buttressed tasteful swirls of artistic entropy, in unassuming tones, trimming countless cut-ins, apses, and bays. Paintings and prints adorned the facets, while sculptures, statues, busts, and vases were illuminated within niches and recessions. Protrusions, projections, and architectural outcroppings were scattered about the room, with dimensional showcases and artistic light to accent them.
"Forenza's commissions," said a young man in a dark blue suit and loud yellow accoutrements, overheard by the Boseman/Pelican foursome. "He pays the artists to create something new, just for him. And they come here to do it. The artist signs a non-disclosure and no photos are ever taken. You have to be here to even see it. These pieces are unique to the world... this is all unique... it's all one-of-a-kind."
Kevin Boseman moved to introduce himself to the young man and his acquaintance while motioning to the rest of his group to carry on. "Engineered pricelessness," he mused, "It's like printing money out of thin air, except just a bit more proof-of-work."
to be continued
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