Billionaire Devils Club-Palm Beach

by Ashley Woods

Mrs. Kenworth had always wanted her youngest to have a stress-free life of the Garden Club, charity balls, and an ATM card that never came up declined. But again, that plan was never part of Kristen’s goals. Either way, it obviously tanked, and the debutante’s future was now looking bleaker.

  Kristen never let her new financial status get her down. She worked part-time writing articles for fashion magazines, while finishing off college a semester early. She was very busy, and had no time, nor the desire, to feel sorry for herself. She kept herself surrounded by fun friends and good times. Without her parents, she only had herself to rely on now, and she had to remain strong.

  It was now late fall, and the winds blew away the last of the leaves on the trees. Kristen could definitely feel this was the right time for her to leave Chicago. Palm Beach was the place that made her happiest, and of course, she would prefer to be lazing in the sun, instead of freezing.

  But instead of floating in the pool of the Kenworth estate, like her stepmother probably was, Kristen would be looking for some type of cheap rental down the road.

  She loved Palm Beach! The flowers were always in bloom and tropical birds abounded. The white egrets replaced the black sparrows that she was used to seeing up north. Being on a barrier island, it always had that extra humidity, with a cooling wind that always lulled her into a tranquil state. It made her dry winter skin feel moist and delicious, and her mind was always rested. She knew she needed to be there.

  Within the week, Kristen was ready to go. Her car was going on a transport, and she splurged for a first-class ticket.

  As she drove from the airport, Kristen could see the bridge to the island ahead of her. Crossing the Intracoastal, she was greeted by the magnificent royal palms, as they lined themselves in a meticulous row along each side of avenue.

  She could almost hear the echoes of the carriages, that delivered the first aristocratic families of the past to their winter playground. She too had returned to her promised land and looked forward to getting up early the next morning to see the sun rise over the ocean. It had been a long time since she had done this, and it would signify another new beginning…

  The horizon emerged from nowhere, cascading deep reds into the abyss. It hung heavy above the water, devoid of motion. Suddenly, a large black fin shot up, growing larger and menacing in silhouette against the shadows.

  Kristen jolted up from behind the wheel of her rental car, and watched it make a stealth pass through the few feet of water just off the shore. It then seemed to melt back into the dark. She could not believe that she finally saw her first shark! And, so close! She pulled her car closer to the curb and awaited the sunrise.

  Kristen noticed that as soon as the sky began to brighten, that the waves started up again, and gently rolled into the shore. She could now see the dim outlines of a few people on the beach, and more early birds sitting in two cars down the block from her. It seemed that the redness only developed more. She got out of the car and sifted through the sand to the water hoping to see the shark again.

  She sat down on the damp beach perching on top of her hands, and noticed a couple approaching about a hundred feet from her. They kicked off their shoes and ran into the water.

  Kristen knew she should warn them but kept silent. She cringed when they took a dive, right where the shark had been. It was like watching a movie, and she felt she couldn’t move or speak. The pair laughed and played around as Kristen witnessed with morbid curiosity. The shark did not re-surface. She was slightly surprised by the fact she never said anything to them.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when she spotted an elderly man on the beach attired in a classy business suit. As he came closer, she noticed that he was carrying a large bag, and seemed to be bending over picking up objects on the shoreline.

  Kristen squinted her eyes but could not determine what they were. After a few minutes, he was right in front of her.

  “That’s odd. He is wearing dress shoes.”

  He poked around in the sand with a wooden cane and pulled up a long piece of damp and shredded black lace.

  She noticed that his bag was filled with them, so Kristen called out to him.

  “Are those tablecloths that you are picking up? She rose to her feet and looked closer.

  “Are they hat veils?”

  The man seemed very calm and replied, “They are nothing for you to be concerned about. Please forget that you ever saw them. You will be safer that way.”

  Kristen then tried to engage him in conversation.

  “Wow, did you see that shark? It was so close. I did not know that sharks came near the shore.”

  The man answered, “They particularly enjoy the north end of the island by the country club. They visit often as they migrate back up to the mainland.”

  Kristen laughed, “Well, that’s it. I am never swimming in the ocean again!”

  The man looked at her coldly, “They come in quite handy sometimes.” He tied up his bag and walked away toward the

  street. Kristen thought he was pretty strange, and she kept her distance as she walked back to her car. She saw him get into the back of a black Rolls Royce. There seemed to be three other men in there, also wearing fancy business suits.

  She sat on the edge of her car seat and wiped the sand from her feet. Then, she gave one last loving look toward the ocean, and drove to her hotel.

  Later that day, Kristen obtained a copy of the Palm Beach Daily News. It was fondly nicknamed the “Shiny Sheet” by the locals. She only saw a few ads for house rentals. There was a month to month place near the beach. It cost an incredible amount, but it was perfect for Kristen’s needs.

  Sight unseen, she pounced on it and sealed the deal over the phone with their property manager. In Palm Beach, that’s what you had to do. Rentals were rare and went fast.

  After her moving truck arrived from Illinois the next day, she went over to pick up the key from the realtor. The owner planned to eventually sell the small house, so it was empty when Kristen showed up. They had kept the pool open and Kristen jumped right in.

  Later, the owner decided to come by and personally bring her the final papers to sign off on. Kristen was in the pool when he walked up and surprised her. He was in his seventies, very distinguished looking, and his hair was obviously dyed black. He was down south taking care of a few details, before heading back to New York where they had another estate.

  It seemed that he was enjoying the time away from his wife and asked, “Can I join you in the pool?”

  Kristen detected an Italian accent. She said, “Sure.”

  He added, “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a suit with me.”

  Laughing nervously, she quickly started up the pool ladder, “I think I have already had too much sun today. I am going inside. But you can go ahead and swim.”

  He walked up to her and stroked her arm

  “Come on, you’ve got a great body. No one will know.”

  Kristen put her towel around her and started to walk back into the house.

  He followed her, “I’ll lower the rent. Let’s party.”

  She smartly answered, “I’m saving myself for Le Bar tonight.”

  The bar was the newest “beautiful people” spot on the island, and everyone wanted to be seen there. He then invited her to go to dinner with him at Club Collette, an exclusive restaurant which was only for members. Kristen loved the place, and had often dined there with her parents, so she eagerly accepted the offer.

  That evening, the landlord showed up in a chauffeured Rolls, which was standard transportation for the Palm Beach crowd. It was a very short drive to get to the restaurant.

  Club Colette was a beautiful building set back hidden on a narrow street. If you didn’t know to look for it, you could easily miss seeing its small white gate. As they walked in, the room was filled with expensive perfume and pretentious toupees.

  It was a much older crowd than she expected. The Palm Beach Originals may be getting on in years, but the new money h
adn’t quite taken over the island yet; and they still ruled supreme. Club Colette was one of their last holdouts, and Kristen felt like she was at a party at her grandparents.

  They had a wonderful meal and many glasses of wine. As she finished her dessert, her landlord knew she was frothing at the mouth to get over to Le Bar. She really wanted to see what all the buzz was about.

  He escorted her to the front area, leaving her by a wall while he went to the Men’s Lounge. Kristen posed and smiled as the crowd walked past.

  A handsome figure approached her. His black silk shirt was unbuttoned to his chest and enhanced his sculpted muscles. He had long blonde hair and looked like a bronzed god, straight off the cover of a drugstore romance novel. Best of all, he looked to be around her age.

  She stood to the side to let him by, but he walked right up and took her hand. He leaned over to kiss it and held it lightly in the air as he introduced himself.

  “Hello Beautiful.” He brushed a long bang to the side of his forehead and smiled at her, “I have been watching you all night. I am Gregory.”

  Kristen laughed, “I am Kristen Kenworth.”

  “What will it take to get you to go somewhere and dance with me?” He kissed her hand again.

  Before she could tell him that she was going to Le Bar, her landlord returned. He gave Gregory a nasty look as he grabbed her arm.

  “Come on Honey, it’s time to go home.”

  Gregory looked confused, as The Landlord tried to pull Kristen away from him. She looked back and forth at the two of them, and was ready to say something, when her landlord whispered into her ear.

  “That guy is one of the most loathsome “Lotharios” on the island. I don’t care for the company he keeps. You do not want to ever meet his friends from the country club. I have heard that they are probably a bunch of Devil worshippers. They do some kinky stuff in there. You need to go with me now.”

  Kristen gave Gregory a worried look and didn’t say a word. The Landlord did it for her. He firmly said “We are going now. Enjoy your evening Sir.” He turned Kristen around and steered her toward the door.

  Gregory sputtered, “Who is that guy? Your father? Where are you going?” Kristen glanced back at him and smiled as she was walked off. The Landlord shot Gregory an angry look.

  When they went back to his car, she climbed into the back seat, and guarded her knees from him with her clutch. He smiled a lot at her. Maybe he thought he was going to get lucky at some point; he was probably used to it.

  The landlord was full of information about Gregory and gave Kristen an earful as they drove. Kristen was not that appreciative of his cautionary words and did not reply. She thought Gregory was hot and was tempted to jump out and walk back to Club Colette to find him.

  He then changed the subject, and looked down at her legs, “I see you didn’t wear nylons. I like that.”

  “I know that’s how the girls roll on the island.”

  He answered, “You are right dear. You fit right in. You are a lot classier than most of them, especially for your age. And, that gorgeous blonde hair, very popular here.”

  He lowered his voice, "I hope you are old enough to drink. You had wine at dinner, and I don’t want to go to jail.”

  She nodded her head affirmatively. My birthday was on August 8th. I’m a Leo."

  He chuckled like a dirty old man, “Well, then young lioness, it looks like we are going to Le Bar after all, and I am relieved that I do not have to report to the Clinker. And, now that I know that you are too old for me, I’ll have to go easy on you.”

  Kristen smiled, “By the way, I don’t even know your first name. You kind of scribbled it on the lease.” He looked surprised as he pulled out a bottle of champagne from the back bar.

  “Why, I am Rosario, of course. Rosario of Palm Beach.” From his seat, he tried to give her a sweeping bow.

  “Is that your first name or last?”

  He shrugged and said, “Does it matter? I am like Cher! Everyone knows me. I just need one name.”

  “OK then,” Kristen laughed. She looked around the car

  saying, “It seems all the men on the island have at least one Rolls.”

  “This is just my car when I am planning to drink, so that I can have my chauffeur. I have four other cars that I had shipped over from my favorite house, which is in Milan. I do all the driving with those babies!”

  He started naming them off, “Testarossa, Lamborghini…”

  Kristen cut him off, “OK, I know all of those. That’s great. I especially love Ferraris!”

  Rosario whispered in her ear, “Stick with me for a month and I will buy you one.” Kristen looked sideways at him. He looked serious.

  She teased him, “Well, let’s see if we can make it through this bottle of champagne first.”

  The driver pulled up to the parking lot of Le Bar and parked. Rosario gave her a disapproving look, “This bubbly is one of the finest. It is for sipping and enjoying. If you want to get drunk, we’ll go inside now.” He seemed a little bossy.

  Not that she would ever consider him to be one, but she needed to adjust herself for these cultured conquests. She was still in her advanced Palm Beach adult learning phase, and she had to act less excited.

  Kristen smirked, “Oh please, I never drink just to get drunk. Give me some credit.” Then she smiled, “Yes, let’s go inside. I want to see how great it is.”

  Rosario had the driver pull out of the spot and take them all the way to the front door, which was only 10 feet away. The Manager made a special trip outside to greet him.

  “Rosario! I have your favorite table ready by the dance floor. It’s good to see you again.”

  He smiled at Kristen, “Any friend of Rosario’s is now my friend. I am here to provide you with anything you need. Tell me your name and I will keep you on our list.”

  She cheerfully handed him her card and thanked him. She was ready to officially and legally, fit in with the island nightlife, and she knew that this was a major asset needed to survive in Palm Beach. Being a VIP always had its perks.

  Lately, Le Bar was trying to keep gawkers and non-essentials out by charging a steep cover and making them wait in long lines. And, during Season, those unfortunates simply did not get in. It was just too crowded, every day of the week.

  Contrary to belief, the local patrons were not snooty, and were usually very friendly. But, that only if they knew you belonged there. The bartenders were also a lot of fun and openly poured drinks. The more they liquored up the crowd; the better the tips. They went through countless bottles pleasing the patrons, and not the owner’s coffers.

  Kristen looked around and noticed there were plenty of girls that were much younger than she was. It seemed the same rules about being underage didn’t apply when you were in Palm Beach. It was like its own little kingdom.

  The couple was taken to Rosario’s table, and handed menus. Kristen wasn’t hungry and decided to just order an appetizer.

  Rosario waved to a group of girls, and they came over and sat down. He had them all order a full dinner, and then teased Kristen about being skinny. She finally gave in and asked for a chicken sandwich.

  The other girls were all trying to hit on Rosario. They needed a Sugar Daddy to take care of them. Rosario was only interested in Kristen, and once the other girls had eaten, he encouraged them to go find partners on the dance floor.

  When they moved on, he said, “Thank God, now I have you to myself. They were giving me a headache with all that girl talk.”

  Rosario kept refilling her glass and tried to keep her at the table. Kristen stood up and announced “I really want to dance. I’ve got to work off this food.”

  Rosario yawned, “Tonight, I am not in the mood to boogie. Please just sit here with me.”

  Kristen said “I’ve got to move! I’m getting worn out sitting.” She started to walk in the direction of the other girls.

  Rosario called out, “I will wait for you. Please behave yourself.” Kris
ten waved at him, and cheerfully walked up to a herd of men that the girl group had surrounded.

  Kristen had a great time dancing and mingling with the others, and easily met several men. They always welcomed a fresh young face to the scene. After a while, her feet called it a night. Her heels were too high to be comfortable, and she winced in pain as she slowly walked back to Rosario.

  His table was filled with women again, and they were also standing around him. Kristen recognized two popular soap opera stars. It sounded like Rosario was telling them a wild tale when she came up to them.

  A waiter hurriedly added a chair for her and put her right next to Rosario. He patted her knee “You are such a beauty Kristina!”

  Kristen smiled at him “Grazie Rosario!”

  Rosario was impressed with her Italian and he dramatically shooed the women away, “I want to give you a ride home now. But no other girls are allowed.”

  “That’s OK, I guess I am pretty tired.”

  The Manager walked up to Rosario to bid him “Arrivederci.” He smiled at Kristen, “Take good care of him.”

  Kristen gave him a special look, so he knew she had no intentions of any hanky-panky with Rosario. The Manager seemed to understand her and laughed,

  “Kristen, I’ll see you back here soon and I will personally keep you happy.” He gave her a wink, and then attempted a flirtatious pat on her butt. Kristen expertly scooted forward to slip away from his hand. Rosario was walking ahead and didn’t notice anything.

  When they went outside, Kristen was expecting to see the Rolls-Royce and the chauffeur. Instead, Rosario must have had someone bring him his race car, because a hot red Ferrari Testarossa was revving up in front.

  “You said you liked Ferraris Kristina. So, we ride in my Ferrari. Let’s take it out on the turnpike and go somewhere more exciting.”

  Kristen smiled, “It is very nice Rosario, but you said you were taking me home.”

  Rosario gunned the engine, “Then let’s go!”

  Kristen jumped in, and they tore out of there with a big screech. Everyone in the lot turned to look.

  They zoomed over the Intracoastal Bridge and took a fast turn on Flagler Avenue.