Risk

Chapter XXXV

Gstaad

Carly totes her overnight bag and Michael's over one shoulder. Stavros carries a sleeping Michael into the well appointed chalet in Gstaad, Switzerland. They are greeted by staff who take the bags from Carly and then her coat.

Stavros asks quietly. "Which room for the young man?"

"This way sir." The servant also keeps her voice as low as the Prince's not wanting to wake the red haired young man. She quickly leads the way to the rooms that always stand ready for the family. Stavros follows her. The servant turns down the fullsized bed. Stavros lays Michael down.

Carly steps up. Very quietly she asks. "Could you have a pot of tea and a..."

"Port." Stavros interjects.

"Sent up to a sitting room. And something light. I swear I can never eat on the plane. I'll handle things from here." Carly sits on the bed next to Michael and starts stripping him out of the heavy jacket and shoes. Her goal is to get him comfortable enough to sleep thru without waking him up.

"Of Course, Madam." The servant makes a quick retreat.

"One of these days Michael is going to get really confused. When he went to sleep we were leaving a tropical island and when he wakes he's going to see snow covered mountains. It's a good thing he doesn't sleep walk."

"He always finds his bearings."

"That's because you make it an adventure." Carly compliments. "So what are we going to introduce Michael to here?"

"I don't think he'd appreciate a trip to the damn attorneys." Stavros quips.

Carly smothers a laugh and then waves a finger in Stavros direction. "Don't make me laugh. I don't want to wake him." Standing up, Carly then starts tucking the covers around Michael making sure they are snug. She adjusts the bedside lamp so that there is a dim glow to break the darkness of the room. "What time is it?"

Stavros shrugs. "There is time enough later to figure that one out." Looking around the hallway he sees the servant standing out side of an open door. Putting a hand at Carly's back and directs her toward that room. Inside the sitting room is a crackling fire and a bank of windows that look out to the darkened valley below.

"Tell me about Gstaad." Carly demands as she goes over to the repast brought up by the servant.

"I think you'll like it. It's extremely expensive..."

"Wow if you think it's expensive." Carly whistles. She hands Stavros his port and then takes her tea over next to the fire. Stavros sets the port on the mantel. "What else."

"There are no cars allowed in the downtown."

"Oh I like it already." Carly lifts her cup of tea in a toast.

"Trains, cable lifts, buses but no cars."

"Definitely my kinda place." Carly nods.

"Of course it's been many years since I've been here." Stavros says wryly.

"Of course." Carly nods. "But then since I've never been I guess that makes us even. Jason banks in Switzerland so I have my accounts here." Stavros nods this is not unknown to him. "... But this is the first time I've been. It'll be fun exploring."

"Yes, it will be... fun." Stavros notices Carly covering a yawn. "You are tired. There is time enough for everything once you've rested."

"Sorry. I guess my body clock is all messed up." Carly rises. "Are you going to crash too?"

"I'm... wired."

"Do you want me to stay up? I know I'll get my second wind here pretty quick."

"No. I think you are already working on your third." Stavros leans over and give Carly a kiss on the forehead. "Rest. Tomorrow I'm sure that Michael will be running us both ragged." Carly nods and goes down the hallway to Michael's room. She goes to the attached bathroom and changes into her nightclothes and then crawls into bed with Michael. Michael automatically turns toward her and starts to snuggle. Carly hugs him and then closing her eyes falls asleep.

The tutor comes into the study once Stavros is alone. Stavros picks up his port and takes a sip. "I am sure Michael will be seeking companions among the local children. Make sure you accompany him on all of his adventures."

The tutor nods. "And Carly?"

Stavros frowns. "I don't think that she speaks german but that shouldn't be a problem since most of the shop keepers either speak english or money. We will explore the downtown area tomorrow and I will arrange for skiing instruction for her and Michael. Puerto Rico?"

"Our people are in place around the island." The tutor nods.

"Greece?"

"When you review in the morning I believe you will be pleased. You have controlling interest in everything that Mr Jacks holds there."

"Make arrangements to purchase Jax's island when it becomes available. Preferabley before it becomes available. It might be a minor leverage point later. Switzerland?"

"Neither the bankers nor your damn attorneys..." The tutor says wryly, "...were informed of your travel plans. If you maintain a low profile that will remain so."

Stavros shakes his head. "The time for low profiles is over. It is time for the world to know I am back."

"And the Quartermaines?" The tutor as part of his duties as Michael's tutor and bodyguard is aware of all threats to Michael and his mother.

Stavros waves a hand. "Either my brother has neutralized the threat in his usual serpentine manner or I will eliminate it in a more direct... forceful fashion."

About six hours later, Michael starts stirring. One eye opens. While he realizes he is in a strange place he isn't concerned. He knew they were coming to Switzerland. Slowly he eases out of the bed careful to not wake his mother. He finds his overnight bag and upturns it on the floor deciding what he is going to wear for the day. Picking out longsleeved everything, he dresses quickly but quietly. Not able to find his shoes, he shrugs and goes over to the closed door. Opening it he looks one way and then the other just sticking his head out into the hallway. The house seems to be still asleep. On sockclad tiptoes, he plans to start exploring first the house and then he'd wake up Stavros. Michael glances out of one of the many windows and grins. "I wonder if you can make a better castle out of snow than sand?"

"I am sure you will find out." Michael spins on a dime almost falling as his socks slip on the polished wood floor. The tutor is standing in the doorway to his own room which is down the hall from Carly and Michael's.

"No classes until this afternoon right?" Michael demands.

"If you like..." The tutor shrugs. "But I think Stavros was planning on taking your mother to get lift tickets... ski tickets this morning. If you want to start learning to ski this afternoon..."

Michael groans. Decisions. Hard ones. Then he shrugs. "I can't find my shoes anyway."

"I'm sure your mother will find them when she wakes."

"I think she hides them."

"It wouldn't surprise me." The tutor puts a hand on Michael's shoulder. "Come on. I think your journal entry about Puerto Rico first while it is still fresh in your memory. And then you have to identify everything in the pictures you took so that you can make captions for your book. Stavros arranged for you to have your own computer so you won't have to borrow his."

Michael pouts. "That means he's going to be doing business."

"Some." The tutor nods. "But if you both have your own computers that means he can be doing his business while you are doing your studies."

Michael grins up at the tutor. "I like it. It's 'ficient."

"Efficient. And yes, it is. Let me get you started and then I will find out what the cook is making for breakfast. We shall have a working breakfast. I have a list or words I want you to use in today's journal entry. Efficient was actually one of them. One of the bonus words. You know what it means, and you can use it in a sentence-- but can you spell it?"

Michael shrugs. "The 'puter can."

"Only if you get it started. And the computer wouldn't have known what you were talking about if you started the word with an F."

"Efficient." Michael says the word slowly. "So E then F."

"Better." The tutor nods. Entering the same sitting room he'd been in only hours before with Stavros he sets Michael up at a table. He pulls out the laptop computer and sets it up on the table. Michael hops around the tutor plugging everything in and then goes to the case that the tutor always takes on the travels and pulls out the digital camera that had accompanied them since the trip to the Dead Sea. "No pictures until after your journal entry."

Michael grimaces and slumps into his chair pulling the computer to him. "You're no fun anymore."

"You say that now. But will you think so this afternoon? I'll go check on your breakfast." Stepping back the tutor looks at the set up and nods. "Get started." He leaves to talk to the cook.

Michael sighs heavily and then clicks on the lesson plan. It is set up in frames. On one side is the list of words he is suppose to use and on the main part there is a blank page. Michael sighs again. Carefully he types in Puerto Rico at the top and the date. He'd already used yesterdays journal page on the trip to the sugar cane fields on Uncle Sonny's island. Todays will be all about the trip on the glass bottom boat. As he uses each of his vocabulary words, the word changes color on the left side of the page and is highlighted in his text. By the time the tutor gets back, Michael is glaring at the screen and frowning but his fingers are flying over the keyboard hunting and pecking for each letter. "What the hell is curly-leeen ?!" Michael demands as he stumbles over the last unfamiliar word.

"Cerulean. The C sounds like an S. Don't swear and look it up." The tutor pours each them a glass of juice.

Michael clicks on the word over on the left side. "It's blue. Why doesn't it just say blue?"

The tutor reaches into his case of tricks and pulls out a box of crayola crayons. Michael has graduated from the eight to the twenty fours. Carly insisted on the crayons as they travelled well and weren't as messy as paints. The tutor pulls out four crayons from the box and sets them down next to Michael. "These are all blue but only one of them is cerulean."

Michael looks at the labels of all the crayons and picks out the one that matches his vocabulary word. The tutor hands him a blank piece of paper. Michael makes a few lines on the paper with the crayon. First soft and then harder. Then he grunts and rereads his story. He finds the part about the reef and adds a sentence about the shallow cerulean waters when the sun hits it. "Done!" Michael pushes the laptop toward the tutor for him to check while he reaches for his spoon to start eating his breakast.

Carly wakes with a yawn and a stretch. She looks around the room and smiles and shakes her head when she sees the contents of Michael's overnight bag on the floor. Reaching for her robe she loosely belts it and then goes into the walk in closet and reaches up on the highest shelf. She brings down a pair of boots, Michael size. There is a slight feeling of relief when she grabs them. Sooner or later, Michael is going to find her hiding spot and she is going to have switch off. Setting the boots aside, she bends over and starts stuffing Michael's clothes back in his overnight bag. If this was like all the places that Stavros had taken them before... as soon as she left the room the servants would rush in like magic and put away everything. The first time had been kinda creepy but she'd gotten used to it, even expects it. Carly sets Michael's bag on the bed and then reaches for her own. She pulls out some clothes that will probably do for the winter wonderland outside her window and hits the shower. When she comes back out, the servant who'd shown them to their rooms the night before is already there putting fresh linens on the bed. "Hello."

"Madam." The servant greets Carly politely.

Carly pulls her hair back into a low ponytail. "I'm Carly. I don't answer to madam. It has a different connotation over in the states." Carly leans in and says in a whisper confidentially. "Over in the states a madam is a woman who runs a house of prostitution." The servant blanches. "It's okay. I have this conversation every where I go with Stavros. Just call me Carly. And my son's name is Michael. If you catch him doing anything out of line..." Carly takes in the proximate age of the servant. "...something there is no way in hell your little brother would get away with... please let me know. And I should warn you now-- he's into everything and on his free time indoors will probably drive the cook crazy by being underfoot but he is an expert taste tester. Where are the boys?"

"The boys, mada... Carly?" The servant looks at her blankly.

"Michael, Stavros and Michael's tutor?"

"Yes, they are in the same sitting room as last night."

"Thanks." Carly grabs Michael's boots and starts down the hallway. As she walks in the door she announces. "Did you forget something this morning, Mr Man?" Carly holds up the boots. Michael comes racing over to her. Carly bends over and hands Michael his boots and gives him a smacking kiss in greeting. "What did I miss?"

Michael plops himself down on the floor and starts pulling on his boots. "Breakfast, but you always miss breakfast. And me and Stavros made a plan for the day."

"Stavros and I." Carly corrects rubbing her hands together in anticipation. "I love plans. Let me in on it." Carly pulls up a chair at the table by the window. She observes the two laptops. One that Stavros has open in front of him. The other by where Michael had been sitting. The tutor is off to the side already planning the next days lesson based on where they are. Michael takes off at a run to the kitchen not bothering to tie his boot laces to let the cook know his mother is finally awake. "What are we doing today?"

"Shopping." Stavros answers.

"YES! Today is a very good day." Carly grins at him.

Strolling along the main street of downtown Gstaad, the only street really, Carly strings her arm thru Stavros' as they window shop. They'd already stopped at the ski shop and gotten totally outfitted for the four of them in boots, coats, hats, gloves and season lift tickets. Stavros had wanted to buy Michael skis but Carly had put her foot down demanding that they all rent. "You haven't been on skis for twenty years and Michael and I never have been! Why would you buy something you might not even like? Boots I can see it's just too gross to rent boots-- reminds me of bowling or something, but we should rent so we can try out all different kinds of skis and decide what is right for us."

After the ski gear had been decided on Michael and the tutor went back to the chalet while Stavros and Carly continued their walk. Stavros stops at one window and carefully studies the dress within. "Come on." he starts half dragging Carly in the door.

"Where am I going to wear that?" Carly says reluctantly as she looks at the dress lustfully. "I suppose we could start dressing for dinner again back on the island."

"Phase II, my dear." Stavros insists.

"Phase II?"

"That's where after consolidating our holdings we announce our presence and watch them scurry. It's time to remind the world who we are." Stavros wraps an arm around Carly's shoulders and pulls her close. To anyone watching it looks like he is kissing her ear while he is actually whispering. "There is no better place than here. A few of the nightspots, a couple of house parties and everyone will know your name. The right designer, the right... perfume." Stavros tempts.

Carly looks at Stavros out of the corner of her eye. "If I'm going to do this... then I'm going all out. They'll be saying Laura who if they aren't already!"

Stavros smiles. "It's a business decision, Caroline. So far you've, we've, worked behind the scenes. Are you ready for a full offensive?"

"I get so hot when you get into all that battle jargon." Carly teases but then adds, "...Okay. Let's roll the dice." Carly alludes to the Risk game and allows herself to be lead into the exclusive boutique.

"The dress in the window. I would like to see it. I don't recognize the designer."

"It's a Gucci, sir." Like a commission salesworker the world over she can smell the old money coming off of the gentleman and pitches her sale to him.

"Tom Ford." Carly mutters the name of the designer for Gucci. This would never happen in Port Charles. There all the sales people knew her.

The saleswoman looks at Carly. "I have the dress in her size, sir."

"Unless you have the dress in his size you better start talking to me." Carly says sharply her face as cold as ice. The salesperson takes a half step back.

"We will need a private dressing room please. And items in Mrs Corinthos size." Stavros says smoothly. "Black I think. Evening attire."

Carly mutters under her breath to Stavros. "Smug bitch no wonder we get an ugly american rep if the customer gets treated like a piece of the furniture."

"Caroline, she is irrelevent. The proper attire." Stavros reminds ignoring the saleswoman as she hangs a number of dresses and pants outfits up.

Carly starts flipping thru the outfits that the saleswoman has set up on a rack in the private dressing room. "It's so much easier on the island, just call them up and have them send over a collection. You could always just call over to Greece and have them send my stuff over here if we're going to be here awhile."

"Your clothes in Greece are appropriate for home and much warmer weather." Stavros counters.

"And why the big deal about black? Is it some kinda Cassadine thing? Black is fine but I like a little red now and then." The saleswoman flinches at the name Cassadine and looks at the couple with different eyes making sure that she doesn't draw their attention as she hurries back out on the floor.

Stavros shrugs. "I thought perhaps Jason might appreciate it. Or rather Jason's associates."

Carly turns to Stavros. "So they'll think Sonny is dead. Kinda old fashioned." Stavros quirks a brow. Carly considers the suggestion while thumbing thru the clothes. "But it could work. It would be a stretch for me. It would mean not saying anything and let The Bosses assume... yeah, that could work. Just don't think I'm going to take it as far as the Lady of Loon Lake." Carly looks at the garments with renewed interest. She pulls out a couple and heads back to the changing room.

Not even an hour later Stavros and Carly are on their way down the street and the saleswoman is reaching for the phone. Yes, the commissions in the store are good but so is the occasional tip to the tabloids. She looks at the bags that have been set aside to be delivered that day. The Cassadines were always good for a front page in the tabloids. And a front page tip... well that was worth the possibility of getting caught.