Chapter 1

 

Adam Hampton III opened his eyes, prepared to meet the challenges of his day. His head throbbed from the overindulgence of the night before. He was in no immediate hurry to get up. At first he had no memory of the previous night’s activities, but, as the cobwebs cleared, a vague memory of having sex with Marcia Bloom emerged. How could that slip my mind after trying to bed her for the last six months? A vision of his activity the prior night began to return. He recalled how beautiful her body was. He vividly retraced each curve in his mind. He had discovered, first hand, that there was much more to Marcia than her signature tight clothing. As the mystery continued to unravel, he remembered being in her apartment and drinking several Rusty Nails. She was wearing only a short silk robe, which, at the time, he considered a most promising sign.

As a sex partner, Adam was short on foreplay which he believed made him climax too quickly. He preferred to get right to the fornication. He had waited for Marcia to make the first move which she eventually did by letting her robe fall to the floor. They moved immediately to her bedroom where they made love for the next four hours on her round-shaped bed. He remembered doing it several times, but, apart from that, the rest was a blur, including how he drove home and got into his pajamas. To add to his confusion, he saw that his clothes were neatly folded and piled up on one of the lounges.

For the past three years Marcia has been vice-president of Sales for Bretton Trading, one of the Hampton companies. She was appointed to the position by his father. Six months ago at a company party he made a pass at her, which she politely laughed off. On two other occasions he made it very clear that he wanted to go to bed with her and both times she had turned him down, but with less conviction she had earlier.

What happened last night? He wrestled with the question. What could have made her change her mind? There was an obvious gap in his memory and as if to answer his questions, his cell phone rang. He rolled over and picked it up. The name on the screen was Marcia Bloom. He thought for a second and decided against answering it. He had no intention of speaking with her until he had the answers to the questions that were temporarily plaguing him; answers that were very slow in coming. He waited until she finished her message. The message turned out to be brief. “Adam, good morning! I’m so sorry I missed you.” She hesitated for a moment and added, “We need to meet to discuss the details of your announcement about my promotion. Call me.”

Adam dropped the phone. The memory of the time preceding his sexual encounter with Marcia suddenly flooded into his head. He now recalled asking her, “What do I have to do for you to go to bed with me?” He remembered that she had bluntly answered, “I will sleep with you only if you give me the vacant CEO position at Bretton Trading.”

He also remembered reluctantly agreeing to do so. What have I done?, he thought. She’s expecting me to promote her to CEO. Beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead. In the two years since he took over the helm at Hampton Industries he exerted every effort to avoid impropriety. Self-recriminations flooded through Adam’s thoughts, Why couldn’t I keep it in my pants? What the hell is wrong with me? I know better than to screw around at the office. How could I have been so stupid? She’s not ready to be CEO. Damn that scotch! 

Thoughts flowed in again, well it’s just not going to happen. She isn’t qualified. I’ll just deny any memory of such a promise. I’ll find some other way to placate her.

Marcia’s expectations would be taken care of when the opportunity presented itself. Right now he needed to dress for a very important meeting.

Adam began his morning grooming. Unlike his father, he did not avail himself of the personal services of the butler, preferring to choose his own clothing and do his own grooming. A firm believer in the importance of his appearance, he devoted close to forty-five minutes to grooming every day. He used a number of products that promised to keep him looking young and virile, including moisturizers, toners, wrinkle removers and a new product that was supposed to give his skin a youthful glow even at age thirty-three. He applied a deodorant and a new French cologne produced by one of his companies, finishing off with a quick scan of his naked body in the mirrored shower doors. He was impressed with what he saw. His brown hair was free of any gray. He kept it short most of the time except when he went on vacation. His had an angular face with a roman nose, his eyes were a dull blue. He was the tallest of the Hampton men, at six-two, he weighed ten pounds over the range for thirty-plus males. That never bothered Him. He had a comprehensive physical exam once a year and usually got a clean bill of health from the doctor. Adam never read the list of recommended diets and exercise regimens he was given. He gave the former to his cook and tossed away the latter.

Satisfied that he looked his best, he left the bathroom and moved to the walk-in closet to select his suit, shirt, belt, tie, shoes and socks. The color coordinated combinations were previously set up. He simply chose a grouping based on his mood for that day and sometimes because of the season of the year.

One hour after waking, Adam emerged from his bedroom. He used the time between juice and eggs being prepared, to discuss household matters with his butler, Milton.

Today, his father’s health dominated the conversation. Adam Hampton II was confined in the West Wing of Hampton Manor. The news was encouraging and Adam decided that he would come home early later in the week to spend some time with him.

After he finished eating and was satisfied that there were no pressing matters requiring his attention, he went to the garage, looked over the collection of cars, the Lexus, Lucerne, Mustang, Audi and the Infiniti, eventually settling on the latter.

As he backed out of the garage, the only thing he had on his mind was the meeting he needed to schedule for later that morning. As he pulled out of the driveway he glanced at the picture of the Manor perfectly centered in the rear view mirror.

 

Hampton Manor was home to three generations of Hamptons since 1935. Built on acres of prime Old Brooking, Connecticut real estate, the Manor, which sits on a knoll, is surrounded by manicured gardens, pathed woodlands, an olympic-sized swimming pool and two tennis courts. County assessors listed the Manor at five and a half million dollars for property tax purposes; real estate agents upwards to eight million. Its high elevation made the Manor visible from every area of town, something Adam was proud of.

Built by the first Adam Hampton to mirror a fourteenth century English Manor House, it has a main center residence and two wings. It is currently the home of Adam Hampton III, Adam Hampton II, a butler, three maid-servants, two cooks, nine male nurse-guards and two female beagles. Bedrooms in the main residence have king-sized beds, large bureaus, dressers and multiple lounging chairs. The attached bathrooms have marbled sinks, vanities and shower walls. Four of the eight bedrooms have private terraces with large hot tubs. Opulence is everywhere to be seen.

The West Wing was walled off since Adam Hampton II returned home from two weeks of mental evaluation. On the main floor, entry from the center house is restricted to a series of locked doors. Windows are barred and alarmed. Electrical power for the Manor is backed up by two emergency generators. Fifteen years have passed since a rogue hurricane knocked out power in Old Brooking. The Manor was only one of four residences in town that glowed brightly each evening during the two week outage. No expense had been spared to convert the West Wing into a mini-spa/clinic. Upstairs, two bedrooms are set aside as sleeping quarters for the nurses who doubled as guards.

No visitors were permitted. Access was limited to Adam III, Milton, the nursing staff and his doctors. A closed circuit system with video tape monitored and records his activities around the clock. Constraints had been necessary on rare occasions when he tried to beat up on himself or when he attacked a staff member. Sedatives are mostly administered late at night when he is observed pacing back and forth in his quarters shouting and frantically waving his arms about in the air.