Authors note: There is absolutely no sex in this chapter. This is just to get the story rolling. I am not really sure if there is going to be a lot of sex in this story at all. You’ll just have to keep reading to find out.

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I knocked on the heavy oak door of my father’s study and waited patiently for him to acknowledge my presence. He finally invited me in and I found him in his usual place behind his massive mahogany desk. His study looked exactly like you would imagine a billionaire’s study to look. Deep rich wood paneling, the thick carpet, and more books than most people ever thought about reading. The only clue to the fact that this was not a scene from the eighteen hundreds was the computer monitor on his desk. Even the smell was what you would think a study should smell like, old books and expensive cigars.


“Do you need something David?”


Without hesitation I said, “Yes sir. Are we rich?”


That stopped him cold in his tracks, which wasn’t something that was very easily done. “Excuse me?”


“Are we rich?”


“Why do you ask, son?”


“Well, I was wondering why we don’t go to the same school as the kids down the street? Their parents take them to school and we ride with Samuel in the limousine. Michael Stuart said that only rich kids get driven to school in limousines and that poor kids either have to ride the bus or get their parents to take them. Does that make us rich?”


“No son, riding to school in a limousine doesn’t make us rich. But, to answer your other question you are not rich. I am rich. It is because I am rich that you are able to go to Prepwood Academy and not public school. My being rich is also why you are able to ride to school in a limousine and not on a bus as a lot of other kids have to do.”


I thought about what he said for a moment and I chose my words carefully when I did. “Dad, if you are rich, and I am not, would it be possible that I could go to school with the rest of the kids that aren’t rich?”


My father again was silenced. He thought about my request for a moment before asking me, “Why would you want to go to public school and not Prepwood Academy?”


“Well, if I am not rich, like you said, then I cannot afford to go there. An education is more than just the things you learn in school, it is also the things you learn in life. I feel that if I went to a public school I would have a better understanding of the world we live in than if I spent my entire school career around people that have basically the same life as I have. At home I would be living the life of a child whose father is very wealthy, with housekeepers and chauffeurs and such, but at the public school I would be just another kid, no one any more special than anyone else.”


“You do realize that even if you aren’t rich, you are very different. Right?”


Unfortunately, I knew what he meant. I was once tested and found to have an IQ of nearly two hundred. There was very little that I couldn’t do. I fed my voracious thirst for knowledge by actually reading the books that he had in his study and most anything I could get my hands on at the library. My father encouraged me to read as much as I could, but I don’t think he would be real happy with some of my choices in reading material. My favorite things to read were automotive magazines.


“Yes sir. I know that I will never be the same as most of the people in this world. However, I do not want to miss out on how to interact with normal people. I have met far too many intellectuals who didn’t have a clue how to interact with people that weren’t on the same plane as them intellectually. It is really sad actually. I want to know that in a few years if I want a cup of coffee I can stop at just about anywhere that sells coffee and be able to get some. I would hate to think that I wouldn’t have enough common sense to make a cup of coffee. I am afraid that is exactly what is going to happen if I don’t get out into the real world sooner rather than later.”


My father put his hands together in front of his face as if he were praying and thought about what I had said. “Very well, since you actually seem to have thought this out, I will let you go to public school. However, you will not be going to the school that serves this area. Before you ask, let me tell you why. There are plenty of people that would love to find out that you are my son and that you go to public school. They would kidnap you and hold you for ransom. If anything were to ever happen to you I don’t know what I would do. It will take a few days to get everything set up the way I want it, but I will let you go to public school.”


I couldn’t believe it. I was actually going to get to go to public school. It has been a long time since I was this happy. That night as I lay in bed I thought about all the things I might get to do. I really had no idea what to expect since my only knowledge of the public school system was what I had seen on the television and the internet.


The next few days I found my father always in his study on the phone. I had no idea who he was talking to but I knew that it had something to do with my future educational options. I knew that my father really did love me for him to stop whatever he was working on and personally get involved with this. As I was sitting in the den watching television I heard the doorbell ring. After a minute I heard it ring again. I couldn’t understand what was taking Claudia, the downstairs maid so long to answer the door so I thought I would go answer it myself. When I opened the door a lady, close to my father’s age I guess, was standing there. I had no idea who she was so I asked her, “Hi, there. Can I help you?”


She smiled at me and said quite politely and in no way condescending, “Why, yes you may. I am Sarah Barker and I am here to see Mr. Martin about a nanny position. Is he available?”


“He should be. Come with me and I will take you to his study.” I closed the door behind her and asked her to follow me. I led her down a couple of hallways and a flight of stairs before we reached the door to my father’s study. It was open and like always I knocked and waited for permission before entering. Since he could see me and was on the phone he just waved me in. I turned to Miss Barker and put my finger to my mouth to indicate to her to be quiet and waved her in behind me. As we neared his desk my father indicated to the two chairs in front of it. We both sat and waited patiently for him to get off the phone.


After he hung up the phone he stood and introduced himself to Miss Sarah Barker. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologized. “I was finalizing a sale and couldn’t cut it short. It was rude of me and again, I am so sorry.” That was weird. I had never heard my father apologize to anyone. He was generally never rude to anyone but I could never remember hearing him apologize. That was definitely weird.


“So, Miss Barker, can I call you Sarah?”


“Yes sir.”


“Please, call me Paul.