Chapter 22
Jake
When we boarded the train that would bring us to our destination, I couldn’t help but laugh at all the shit that had gone down up to this point.
We’d officially gone from some whack-as-fuck meditation retreat planned by my brother and his buddies to riding on some remarkably decorated Santa Train and headed to St. Moritz in Switzerland.
This train was a sight to behold with all its elaborate Christmas décor.
Red velvet seating was encased by ornately carved, rich mahogany wood with brushed gold accents in every nook, and freshly cut evergreens were fashioned into thick, fragrant garland.
It felt like the train had ridden the rails straight out of the North Pole and brought its whimsical magic through Switzerland and the Swiss Alps.
The ambiance was ideal, keeping everyone filled with holiday cheer and saving my brother’s ass from my inevitable retaliation.
He was lucky I was in such a festive mood.
I thought we’d be staying at one of the many luxury hotels where the rich and famous love to vacation when they’re in this area, but my brother had other plans through all his lovely connections.
As it turns out, the Aster family owned one of the first villas built in the upper St. Moritz area.
From what Jim said about this historic chalet, it had ten bedrooms spread over five floors, and we were sure to find the best Christmas experience there.
“How much are the Asters charging us to enjoy their exclusive winter escape?” I questioned Jim as we sat in the lush velvet seating of the dining car on the Christmas train.
“Why would the Asters charge us to stay in their home?” Jim asked, sipping his heavily spiked eggnog.
I glanced around the ornately decorated train car where we sat, wishing Ash was enjoying it with me instead of napping in our plush train car, but after the night we’d had, my lady needed to catch up on her sleep.
“Well, Seb and John wouldn’t, obviously, but their parents?” I said, sipping my eggnog from a silver mug. “I don’t know. You businessmen tend to make money on everything you do.” I reached for a lemon cake from the dessert platter in the middle of the table before us. “Like this train?”
“What about it?” Spencer chimed in with that damn smirk I’d seen him wear since convincing me to go on the lovers’ retreat.
“Oh, please. Don’t act like we were born yesterday,” Collin said.
“Jim didn’t only do all of this shit for Avery, the kids, and the rest of the ladies.
” He arched his eyebrow at my brother. “You’re probably only doing this because you’re proposing some deal to the owners of this train to go into business and make a little side cash during the holidays. ”
“As they say, the wealthy stay wealthy because they don’t blow their cash on bullshit,” I said. “The Asters are not the type of family to do anything for people that doesn’t benefit them in return.”
Jim smiled at me in response to that, “So you’re saying that Big Daddy and Margot Aster didn’t do this out of the goodness of their hearts?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” I answered him.
“Look at the mindfulness with which you come to these conclusions,” Jim chuckled, the booze in his eggnog keeping him light and humorous. “You should go on those meditation retreats more often. It has expanded your conversations to more in-depth—”
“You start this vacation off by torturing us with a mindless prank, which you all,” I eyed Jim, Alex, and Spencer all sitting around the dining car with smug grins on their faces, “should have been praying that Collin and I would forget about.”
“Well, that’s partly why you’re on Santa’s Express,” Jim answered with a chuckle, eyeing his co-conspirators.
I couldn’t wait until retaliation befell all three of these bastards just because of this ridiculous, clique vibe they were throwing out.
“And then you try to insult me by saying that Gustoff was paid to fuck with me and Collin—”
“Jack,” Alex interrupted me with a chuckle.
“What?” I said, confused.
“The man that played the role of Gustoff is named Jack,” he smiled arrogantly at me. “Jack Masterson. He’s trying to get a big break in Hollywood and hoping this might be it.”
“How the fuck is he supposed to get a big break in Hollywood when he’s fucking around in the Maldives like some fake meditation guru to mess with Collin and me?”
Jim snickered, bringing me and Collin to stare at him with curiosity.
“Well, you should probably know that cameras documented everything you guys did and went through. We have all of it recorded.” Jim flipped his phone, and my mouth dropped open when I saw the night vision cameras recording Collin and me out in the forest on the second night.
“You’re not that fucking stupid,” Collin said. “I swear to everything that makes Christmas jolly and bright that you will all pay dearly if you don’t delete that off every single device.”
“And Jack Masterson and I will have words if he thinks he’s going to make it in Hollywood on our backs, being pranked by you three dickheads,” I added.
“Here’s the deal,” Jim said, putting his phone down and offering us both that damn controlling CEO look. “All of this insurance goes away and gets deleted off of all devices once we’re assured that you two won’t retaliate.”
I smirked at my brother. “Look at you three chicken shits.” I eyed the smug executives. “Scared shitless about what Collin and I are going to do to get even.”
“Of course,” Spencer said casually. “It was a fun prank, nothing worse than what you two would do; however, you two don’t like being fucked with the same way you fuck with everyone else.”
“So, we knew that if we finally got your asses back for the bullshit you are relentlessly pulling on us, we’d have to do something drastic,” Alex added, almost as if they’d all rehearsed this mafia-style conversation before putting their plans in motion.
“We knew we had to have insurance so you wouldn’t retaliate. Thus, the recordings,” Jim finished.
“I don’t know about you,” Collin said to me, “but I couldn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about us shitting our brains out in the woods.”
I smiled at my best friend. “I agree. Actually, I think it’s a fantastic way of reminding the world that everyone should do an annual colon cleanse.
It’s a healthy way for two surgeons to show the world that if we can do it, anyone can do it, and colon health is extremely important.
” I brought my cocky smile back to the three men trying to blackmail us.
“Where did you get the idea to blackmail us anyway?” Collin laughed with carefree ease.
“You two shitting in the woods isn’t all we have recorded,” Jim said, strangely still smiling. “Cameras were everywhere, even when your cute little faces were sound asleep and talking in your sleep.”
“Who cares about talking in our sleep,” I challenged. “Everybody does that. It’s perfectly normal.”
“You’re right about that much,” Spencer said. “However, what you two were cry-babying about while you slept makes the recorded material worth it in the end.”
“I’m not taking that bait,” Collin said. “You three are fucked. You’re scared and have no idea when or where my boy and I will get you back.”
I leaned back in the comfortable train chair, smiled, and crossed my arms, “Show the fucking videos to the world. Hell, Jack Masterson will be grateful to Collin and me for making him famous, but you three are fucked, and you know it.”
“You’re willing to let down the women and all the kids at Christmas just to get us back?” Alex questioned.
Collin grinned and leaned forward. “The only ones being let down will be you three. It was a dumb idea to prank us right before the holidays,” Collin said, smiling back at me.
“It was even more foolish to attempt to blackmail us with your cheesy-ass videos,” I added and then stood when Collin did.
We eyed the men cockily before leaving the three executives to ponder what Collin and I would do now.
“Insurance, my ass,” Collin said as we left the dining car and walked into the lounge car filled with sofas, an adorable fireplace, and three Christmas trees to keep the festive appearance of Jim’s North Pole Express flowing flawlessly throughout the train.
“Well, they are fucking scared. I mean, it’s the first proper prank they were bold enough to play on us,” I answered, walking over to the sofa and sitting down.
Collin sat in the deep red velvet chair to my left, facing the ornately carved wooden fireplace. “What should we do?” he questioned with excitement.
“This one is a hard one because it’s the holidays, and if we get their smug asses back, it has to be impactful.”
“Something that will teach them not to fuck with us, of course,” Collin added, as deeply in thought as I was.
“Jim’s right. We can’t fuck up Christmas for the women and the kids,” I said. “We have to play by the rules.”
“Of course,” Collin answered, “but let’s think about it. We never fuck up things when we pull off our silly pranks on those assholes. In fact, the women enjoy it.”
“We are a great time when it comes to shit like this,” I said with a smile. “We can pull this off easily, and it will make for a fantastic Christmas that no one shall ever forget.”
“But what are we going to do?” Collin said. “I mean, we’re in Christmas Country. I don’t know shit about anything in Switzerland.”
“We’ll do the only thing we can do,” I narrowed my eyes at him. “We go balls deep with all this Christmas shit. One thousand percent Christmas spirit.”
The lights went on in Collin’s eyes, “Nothing like this Christmas train to inspire us to go all-out, obsessively covering every Christmas tradition known to man?”
“We can kick it all off by singing everyone’s favorite Christmas tune by the Queen of Christmas herself?” I arched an eyebrow with a smile.
Collin raised his mug of eggnog toward me, “All I want for Christmas is you, baby!”
I tipped my mug to salute my best friend, knowing exactly what we were about to do.
We were going to make these businessmen do every fucking Christmas thing that we could think of, forcing them not to open a laptop or check business numbers and holdings on their phones until we were done with them.
Isn’t that what all our lovely wives and children wanted from us lately anyway, to disconnect from everything keeping us from them?
Well, this would be the Christmas miracle they’ve been dreaming about.
It was time these smug CEOs found their own form of ego death this Christmas, and Collin and I would happily and festively give it to them.