Hi-Tech Hijack (16 page)

Mixing business and pleasure was Mickey’s life motto. The unbeatable combination of a flashy yacht and private maid was his sure-fire recipe to conquering any hi-tech genius. They would see themselves pretty much instantaneously settled in a private yacht of their own, financed by realizing their shares from the first ‘exit plan’ that poured money into the company they were yet to establish. A sympathetic angel like Mickey—one that was swimming in cash and loved to enjoy life—was every hi-tech kid’s wet dream, which Mickey knew very well and made the most of at every opportunity. He didn’t even have to pretend to be someone other than whom he really was—a decadent opportunist through and through.

“I have my meals here on the boat sometimes,” he would say nonchalantly while entertaining. “The sound and motion of the waves are what give me my inspiration. Before every significant new investment you can find me here spending a good few hours by myself.” He’d smile empathetically at his guest and dive into another story about one of his sailing trips.

Turkey and Greece and the differences between their bays; the pluses of the calm Adriatic Sea near the Ionian Islands compared to the rough, unexpected waters of the Aegean; the harbors of Lefkada and Corfu with their fish restaurants and picturesque coves—he spoke of all of these and more with a picture of the beautiful Corinth Canal hanging on the wall behind him.

“That’s you, there, behind the wheel.” The mesmerized hi-tech urchin would recognize Mickey in the photo, steering with one hand and his arm around the shoulders of smiling, topless blond in a clear gesture of ownership.

“Yeah, that was on the way back from Loutraki to Piraeus.”

“What kind of yacht is that?” the kid would ask, too shy to ask what really is on his mind—who that gorgeous girl was leaning on Mickey, the fearless sailor.

“Oh, that’s the
Sun Odyssey
, fifty feet long. Very comfortable. Can hold four couples easily. Although on that trip, we were only three guys with a lady friend each,” said Mickey with a wink.

“Is that your yacht?”

“Of course. I keep my small one here, the Odyssey in Greece, and another one in Corsica. That one is a catamaran, too, like this one, only bigger—the Stardust Belize model, forty-three feet, one of the biggest there is. When I’m with the wife and comfort is important, we fly to our summer villa in Corsica through Nice, and there we have our family Belize yacht.”

Target achieved—the impression Mickey wanted to make on his guests would be complete—Mickey, the wealthy hi-tech angel, has several yachts, a villa in Corsica, and a mistress he takes on his sailing trips with friends. He is an established man who knows how to live—every aspiring hi-tech man’s dream.

Mickey and Reuben’s lunch followed Mickey’s protocol to a T. They met at 2:00 p.m., and by the time Reuben disembarked at dusk, he was completely in awe.

That’s the way to live. That’s exactly what I want of life
, he thought to himself after they said good-bye and he entered his leased Mazda-Lantis. He watched, making no attempt to hide his envy, as Mickey took a seat at the back of his metallic Saab that was driven by the personal assistant who came from the office to pick him up.

When he got home, Reuben tried to share his enthusiasm of Mickey’s lifestyle with Ronit, but she was not impressed.

“You always get star struck by these hotshot types, and in the end you find out not everything that glitters is gold.”

“I would be happy with half of what he’s got.”

“Isn’t he the guy we met at Motty Cohen’s cocktail party?” She suddenly recalled him.

“That’s the guy.”

“Yeah, I remember him now. I really didn’t like him. Something didn’t smell right. He looks like the kind of person that always has something to hide. I’d be interested to know what Eddie thinks of him.”

“You would, would you?” said Reuben sarcastically. “You don’t care about my opinion, but you sure do care about Eddie’s.”

“What is this Reuben? Are your jealous all of a sudden?”

“No, I’m just sick of you constantly telling me Eddie’s right and I’m wrong.”

“So I gather Eddie isn’t keen on Mickey either.”

“No he isn’t. You two are on the same page once again. How delightful.”

“Reuben, let’s just decide that if my opinion annoys you so much, you shouldn’t ask for it or tell me about your arguments with Eddie anymore, shall we?”

Reuben said nothing, angrily moved to the guest room, turned on the TV, and changed the station to the sex channel.

Ronit hated that channel, but despite all her protests, Reuben had it included in the channel package he had ordered. He would usually watch it when Ronit was on a night shift at the hospital, but now he did it just to spite her. Ronit saw what he was watching, turned around angrily, and slammed the bedroom door.

Another typical night at the Nevo residence, Reuben thought of his and Ronit’s relationship that was growing colder.

The difficulties in their marriage started after Reuben’s release from the army. As long as he served in a well-defined position and Ronit was busy with completing her internship, they were both focused on clear tasks that left no room for doubt or questions. When Reuben joined Eddie in building the company, things started to change. Ronit became a resident at the infectious diseases ward. She felt it was time for them to start a family and wanted to get pregnant. She was turning thirty in a few months and wanted to have three kids, so she felt there was no time to waste.

Reuben did not feel the same.

“First let me get established, then we’ll talk about kids,” he said whenever she tried to bring it up. “You were raised as the youngest of three kids by wealthy parents, and you have no idea what it’s like to be raised like I was in a poor family, with my father always making me feel as if he never wanted me.”

“But we’re in a very different position than where your parents were.” She would try to persuade him, but Reuben would simply shut down. Ronit was terrified of the thought that the patterns of behavior of Reuben’s father, who had killed himself at a young age, were repeating themselves with Reuben, and she would try to shake the whole thing off and think of anything other than the disturbing connection between Reuben’s difficult childhood stories and his attitude toward becoming a parent. The tension around the issue clouded their relationship and affected their love life. Whenever they had sex, Reuben would obsessively make sure all birth control precautions have been taken and his compulsion with the matter made Ronit avoid sexual contact with him as much as she could. Reuben was turning out more and more to be a greedy man who judged his relationships and values simply by the size of his bank account. He had every reason to carry this obsession from the home and family he was brought up in, but it was something Ronit couldn’t bear. As the daughter of a doctor and teacher, Ronit grew up in a financially stable home, and the values and principles of which her education consisted were those of a spirit and giving that could not be measured by cash.

Slowly, she came to realize the brilliant boy she had embraced, cherished, and learned to love was not on the same page as her, and that the values each of them brought from home were more influential than the essence of life they were trying to weave together.

In the following weeks, Mickey and Reuben had several more meetings. Reuben felt a marvelous friendship was forming between them, the likes of which he had never experienced before. The negative, heavy atmosphere at home and the stresses with Eddie at work made him open up to Mickey, the master of socializing, that much more easily. They spoke of company matters for hours, and the conversation seamlessly and naturally moved to personal issues as well. They learned to know each other well, and Mickey knew how to give Reuben that feeling he was missing. He had always needed someone more mature beside him. Over the past few years that someone had been Ronit, but she felt she had had enough of his constant search for recognition and admiration for his wisdom and crazy career ambitions directed toward science and wealth. Without noticing it, Mickey had become a replacement for Reuben’s mature figure in his life. They met at the office sometimes but mostly at the yacht for dinner or an afternoon cocktail facing amazing sunsets. For dessert, Mickey would always take out his dark oak humidor and offer Reuben a taste of one of his Havana cigars. Next to the cigars were thin papers made of poplar bark. Mickey used the papers to light his cigars, but not before lighting the papers with long matches normally used for starting a fireplace in cold countries far, far away from the marina in Herzliya.

“We don’t want the cigar to absorb the smell of sulfur, so we use the poplar bark,” he explained to Reuben who watched the ceremony enchanted.

“Here, light one. Unlike cigarettes, it isn’t customary to light a friend’s cigar. A cigar is something you light for yourself.”

Reuben, who had never smoked before, gladly accepted the offer and quickly acquired all the mannerisms of handling a cigar. The only thing that stopped him from buying a fancy humidor for himself was the fear of Ronit’s reaction.

Reuben learned to distinguish between the dry Dutch cigars that were made of tobacco from Cuba or Sumatra and rolled in the Netherlands and between moist South American ones that came from the tobacco fields of Cuba, Honduras, and the Dominican Republic.

“It’s still difficult to get to Cuba, but whenever I sail the Caribbean, I make sure to make a stop at the Dominican Republic and replenish my regular stock. There’s a marvelous little shop there in San Domingo that has cigars you can’t find anywhere else—family owned, third generation,” explained Mickey while blowing smoke circles and rolling his thick Corona between his fingers. “Keep in mind, if you press a Dutch cigar, which is naturally almost as dry as the Dutch people themselves, you might crack its skin. However, what you’re smoking right now, which was made in Honduras, is moist and has flexible skin. When you squeeze it a bit, you don’t harm the texture of the leaf, and the tenderness you’re feeling comes from the middle layer of Virginia tobacco. Every good cigar is made of three parts: the wrapper, usually made from a South American leaf; the binder, made of soft Virginia tobacco, which you can also get in North America; and the filler, the core made of Cuban or Honduran tobacco, which dictates the main flavor and aroma of the cigar.”

“And it’s all done by hand?”

“It’s really more about the legs,” laughed Mickey, “or actually the bare thighs on which the Cuban girls roll the cigar until it gets its perfectly smooth shape.”

“Is that how they do it?”

“I’m just kidding. It’s a nice myth that makes the smoking experience that much more pleasurable.”

A few weeks passed during which Mickey worked his charm to capture Reuben’s heart, and the friendship between them grew stronger. One afternoon when they were having cocktails on the yacht, Mickey took out a small cigarette from the humidor and offered it to Reuben.

“Time to take your pleasures up another notch.”

“What’s this?”

“Something nice I got from a Dutch friend of mine. He bought this at a coffee shop, as they call it.”

“It’s legal there, right?”

“For personal consumption only, but who’s checking?” said Mickey, smiling meaningfully.

“What’s in it? Hash?”

“Marihuana. The stuff that even American presidents did in college that never stopped them from getting elected.”

“Except for them, it was the other way around. They did this first, then moved on to cigars . . .”

“Either way, it didn’t hurt their careers. Maybe it even helped.”

“Do you use it regularly?” asked Reuben, still hesitant.

“This and some more interesting substances, which as you can see don’t impact my performance in any way.”

“Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything,” said Reuben, and he reached out a shaky hand for his first joint ever. That, combined with an ecstasy pill Mickey had secretly slipped in Reuben’s drink, removed all inhibitions. In a moment of closeness to Mickey, Reuben told him of the accidental scientific discovery they had stumbled upon and were keeping hidden, given its potential of destruction of global proportions.

“I didn’t quite understand,” said Mickey, milking Reuben for more detail. “You succeeded in keeping the virus viable a whole night with electromagnetic radiation?” Reuben explained the achievement in great detail, and Mickey put on a naïve face and disguised his enthusiasm for the scientific breakthrough. Had he been in his right mind, Reuben would have surely noticed Mickey’s excitement from what he had just heard, but with all the drinks and drugs in his system it was all Reuben could do to keep from falling off the boat.

Mickey’s interest grew, and he met with Reuben more and more often. There was no way for Reuben to keep hiding the fact that he was meeting with Mickey, as it became a regular habit for him to leave the company earlier than usual. Eventually he told Eddie about reaching out to Mickey.

What started as a one-time experience became a regular, addictive habit, despite Eddie, who still wouldn’t join the meetings, being discontent. Lunch or an afternoon cocktail with a little joint for dessert rendered Reuben’s take on life highly optimistic. The depression that usually followed his sobering up would set in as he would come home at night. Ronit started to get concerned there was some bigger problem behind the occasional tantrums he would throw and tried to talk to Reuben about it.

“In this house you’re my wife, not my doctor, so don’t try to analyze me,” he would respond angrily.

One afternoon when Reuben arrived at the yacht, Mickey’s administrative assistant, Tzipi, was waiting for him on deck.

“Mickey was called to an urgent meeting in Brussels, something to do with his diamond businesses. Those diamond dealers are always happy to learn of new investment potentials, and Mickey said he’s going to take this opportunity to tell them about Ebocell-Tech. He didn’t want to cancel your usual meeting, so he suggested I meet you instead so that we can talk a bit about the company, especially about some administrative issues. Mickey says we’re moving toward investing in you guys, and he always likes to leave the nitty-gritty bits for me to handle. So let’s talk.”

“Yes, absolutely, that’s a great idea,” said Reuben. Conversations between him and Mickey had long exhausted all issues related to Ebocell-Tech, and Reuben wondered when Mickey’s enthusiasm was finally going to progress into the practical stages of an actual contract. He had met Tzipi in Mickey’s office a few times before and was glad to hear what she was saying now and to know that things were moving forward.

“I hope you don’t mind I brought a friend. This is Carolina; she’s the marketing director of one of Mickey’s partners from Miami. She’s visiting Israel for a few days and staying with me.”

“Nice to meet you. Reuben Nevo.” He reached out his hand to a gorgeous Latina woman who stepped up from the yacht and onto the deck. The woman wore a thin-strapped, low-cut yellow dress that generously displayed her magnificent, bra-free breasts.

“Very nice to meet you. I’m Carolina,” she said with a Spanish accent and smiled her thick, red lips that parted to reveal her bright white teeth.

“Carolina was born in Cuba and moved to Miami when she was fifteen,” explained Tzipi.

“I see. Cuba has more to be proud of than just its excellent cigars,” said Reuben, surprising himself with the ability to dish out such a smooth compliment.

“It’s the skillful hands of the Cuban girls that make the cigars so excellent.” Carolina smiled, and her hand gestures seemed evocative of something other than a cigar.

“Let’s go to the living room. Carolina has made some exotic Cuban cocktails,” Tzipi placed a hand on Reuben’s back and led him to follow Carolina down.

Too bad there are only four steps
, thought Reuben, his eyes glued to Carolina’s sensually swaying behind, with her clearly visible thong under her thin dress disappearing between her two perfect butt cheeks.

“
L’Chaim
,” said Carolina in Hebrew and handed Reuben a yellow-red cocktail with sugar sprinkled around the rim of the glass.

“
Salud!
” said Reuben, giving her the only Spanish he knew, and they touched glasses.

“Here’s to Ebocell-Tech,” toasted Tzipi in Hebrew, reminding Reuben why he came to the yacht in the first place.

Tzipi brought out Mickey’s cigar box, opened it, and offered the other two a choice. “Why not start with one of these fun little guys? The cigar tastes so much better after one of these.”

“Oh yeah, Mickey’s already taught me that secret.” Reuben picked up a joint.

“You’ll excuse me if I just have a cigarette, I hope. I’m still jet lagged,” apologized Carolina, and she took out a packet of Marlboro cigarettes from her purse.

“Actually, I have a bit of a headache, so I think I’ll just go for a cigarette, too,” said Tzipi, and she took out a cigarette for herself from Carolina’s packet.

“You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble of coming here just for my sake if you’re not feeling well,” said Reuben, apologizing right away.

“Oh, don’t be silly. The yacht is the only place where I can unwind. An hour in the fresh air with a drink and some pleasant company, and I’m set. Let’s go out on the deck for a bit. We’ll watch the sunset and talk business.”

They went on deck with their drinks and smokes.

“What an amazing sight.” Carolina inhaled the fresh sea air, and her proud breasts looked like they were trying to break out of her thin dress. “In Miami we get wonderful views of the sun rising in the east, but I haven’t seen the sun setting into the ocean since we left Cuba twenty years ago.”

“Is this your first time in Israel?” asked Reuben, never taking his eyes of her cleavage, which grew more and more visible with every breath of sea air she took.

“It is, and unfortunately I’m only here for a few days,” she said tilting her head to the side and allowing the light breeze to sweep back her silky black hair away from her eyes.

Three hours later Reuben woke up to find himself lying naked on his stomach in one of the yacht’s sleeping cabins. The smell of sweat and semen filled the cabin, and the sheet felt sticky against his skin. He jumped up from the bunk in a panic and tried to find his clothes in the dark. His illuminated wristwatch read 8:45 p.m. He remembered he had promised Ronit he would be home by eight o’clock for dinner with her parents who had come to visit from Haifa.

“Easy there, Reuben. Here, let me turn on the lights for you.” The lights went on and Carolina kissed him lustily in nothing but a thong. “You were great.” She stroked his cheek and as she pulled away, casually brushed his erect member.

“Where’s Tzipi?” he asked.

“She’s picking us up for dinner in fifteen minutes.”

“I have to go right away. I’m already late as it is,” he said, panicked.

“I thought our night was just beginning,” said Carolina in a seductive voice.

“I, eh, I don’t know what to say, Carolina. I’m not entirely sure what just happened, but I have to go home. I’ve had guests waiting for me since eight o’clock.”

“What just happened here was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, Reuben, and I’d hate for it to end.” Carolina clung to Reuben who in the meantime had put on his pants and was trying to zip them up without hurting his loins that seemed to have a will of their own.

“I have to go now, Carolina.” He stroked her hair, trying to appease her. “Where are you staying? I’ll call you tomorrow morning.”

“I’m staying with Tzipi at her apartment.”

“Does she know about what happened between us?”

“Of course. I mean, we said good-bye and told her to come back at nine o’clock before we went downstairs.”

Reuben couldn’t remember. “That’s not good. I hope she keeps it to herself.”

“Don’t be a child. Tzipi is a good friend, and this sort of thing happens to everyone. It doesn’t happen often enough if you ask me. In any case, you can be certain this will stay between us.”

“She won’t tell Mickey?”

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t.”

“Ok, then here’s my card with my cell phone number. I don’t want to call Tzipi’s home, so you call me in the morning.”

“Hang on, Reuben. Don’t leave me here on my own. Tzipi should be here any minute.”

“Ok. Let’s go up on deck and wait for her there.”

“You go on up. I’ll get dressed and follow you in a minute.”

The cool ocean breeze helped Reuben wake up as he climbed on deck.

He saw Tzipi approaching, waving cheerfully.

“Hi Tzipi. Carolina will be right up.”

“Great, I’ve made a dinner reservation at a restaurant here in the marina.”

Reuben apologized. Tzipi feigned disappointment and allowed him to leave without embarrassing him with any more questions.

He called Ronit from his car and apologized for being so late.

“We’re already at the restaurant—Poseidon on the beach in Herzliya,” said Ronit dryly.

“I’m really close. I got stuck in a meeting in Mickey’s office. I can be there in ten minutes.”

“We’d be happy if you joined us. You’ve missed the starters—we’ve had delicious prawn cocktails—but you can still make it to the entrees,” said Ronit, trying to sound as up-beat as possible in front of her parents.

“I’ll be right there.”

Reuben didn’t even need to move his car. He sat in it for a few more minutes, trying to recompose himself and make sense of what had just happened to him. He looked at himself in the little mirror in the faint light, just to make sure he was still his same old self. When he calmed down a bit, he stepped out of the car and walked to the restaurant that was one dock away from Mickey’s yacht. He hoped Ronit and her parents were seated inside and that they didn’t see him getting off the yacht. He prayed the dinner reservation Tzipi had made wasn’t for the same restaurant. He had no desire whatsoever to deal with Tzipi and Carolina with his wife and her parents there.

The next day Tzipi called Reuben for some technical details about Ebocell-Tech. “By the way,” she said before hanging up, “Carolina wanted me to tell you she had a wonderful time. She was called in to an urgent meeting in Europe first thing tomorrow morning and is flying to Amsterdam tonight, so she won’t be able to say good-bye to you in person.”

“Thanks,” said Reuben in a clearly disappointed voice.

“She said she’ll hold on to your number for her next visit.” Tzipi’s tone was very suggestive.

“Will she be coming here more often?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Three or four times a year. I promise to give you a heads up, and we’ll meet again on board the
Suzy
.”

“Thanks, Tzipi, and, eh, please keep this between us.”

“Of course, Reuben. You have a nice day.”

Mickey had named his yacht the
Suzy
after his wife, but Suzy herself never used it. A few months after she bought Mickey the yacht with her millionaire father’s money as a surprise for his fortieth birthday, Suzy was having lunch with a friend at the marina. She wanted to show her friend the new boat and found her husband naked with a young woman in one of the cabins. Suzy shut the door quickly and hauled her friend off before she had the chance to realize what was going on.

It wasn’t news to Suzy that Mickey was cheating on her, but it was the first time she saw it with her own eyes. This happening on the yacht that she gave her husband for his birthday, the yacht he had named after her, made her feel absolutely mortified and more humiliated than she had ever felt in her entire life.