Paragon Program  Chapter 1  The Party        Page 2

Summer bit my ear, licked my neck, and squeezed my thigh.  "Dream about me.  I'll be dreaming about you and me."

"I'm lost for words, imagine a writer that's lost for words.  You shocked me tonight, any other surprises."

"Enjoy your birthday, but remember we have to be in court tomorrow at nine.  Philip, your Twin Labs Ripped Fuel is in the pantry next to the coffee.  I suggest you take at least three or four pills in the morning.  Maybe some vitamins tonight.  I want your alert brain in court tomorrow."

Sherry put her arm in mine, and walked me over to introduce me to the two baseball stars Carlos, and Pedro at the salon bar.  Pedro translated for his brother.  What and amazing story.  Pedro had fled Cuba, two years ago, and was picked up by the Miami Marlins.  He pitches in the 1997 World Series, and wins.  Just one year earlier, he was standing on lines in Havana, at food stores for the simplest of items looking at empty shelves.  He remarked about how he had to stand on line for soap, and now he owns a fortune in Colgate Palmolive soap stocks, which he purchased from Stephen's brokerage firm.

A beautiful model walked up to Carlos, he leaned over and kissed her.  His story was just as remarkable, since his brothers defection, Castro suspended his privileges.  Luck, persistence, and some cash from Pedro, had led him to the United States, where a lucrative contract with the New York Yankees, stared him as the 1998 World Series pitching.  The Yankees swept the series in four games, and Carlos was a household name in America.  He to had a lucrative contract that brought him to Stephen's firm where he purchased, a large block of Palmolive stock.  What a country.   How satisfying it must have been, for the two brothers to buy soap stocks.  The nation will always have a thousand stories, that tell of men and woman, who defy the odds, and win big in America.  We can thank our forefathers, who had the visions of freedom and took a quill to write the Constitution and The Bill Of Rights.  "Only in America."  They gave the nation, and the world the inspiration of what the future would be.  Know their legacy was in our hands to preserve.  What would the future hold?

Stephen Whitterker was a wild one.  The legacy was save in his hands, but tonight he just wanted to have fun.  He had learned at an early age to play hard, work hard, and love hard.  That was his simple formula for success.   A mission statement for life.  Directly in his view, on the desk he spent $55,000 for at an art auction were the engraved words.  Play Hard, Work Hard & Love Hard.  The plaque and the desk were an insight to Stephen Whitterker's character.  Stephen shouted, "Clear the furniture.   Pour the Champaign.  The yacht series has started"

Stephen never lost the little boy in him, a rare quality in corporate America.  He knew I grew up playing baseball in the sand lots of Brooklyn, and that I was comfortable wearing a glove.  Turning forty for Stephen was dramatic.  Tall, good looking, and rich had him in the arms of a famous Hollywood actress until he took a reality check.   He tossed me a catchers mitt, and threw a hard ball to Pedro.  I only hoped he wasn't testing me as he usually did.  He was an interesting friend, and difficult at times, but never boring.

"Your sand lot awaits you, my friend, and tonight you catch with the greatest pitches of the decade, in the Yacht Series.  Pitching to you are the World Series stars of 1997 and 1998.  Are you sure you can catch?"

"Lets cut the crap, pitch."

"Don't disappoint me catch.  Just catch the ball, I don't want any holds in the yacht."

He threw the ball to Pedro and winked.  If the past was any indication better get set because Stephen played hard.  The catchers mitt was, well padded, and filled with the two teams autograph's.  The back of the glove was autographed by the Miami Marlins, while the mitt area was autographed by the New York Yankees.  I guess I should have explained, when I had the chance.  My position was first base and not catcher.  My friend had gone out of his way to make a memorable birthday, so I just sucked it in, and got into position.  Summer put on a mask, and got behind me, to call the pitches.  Her presents worried me a little, her low cut dress was a distraction for a hot blooded Cuban pitcher.  I thought to myself how lucky I was to have such great friends, as my glove popped.

"Strike One.  Holly shit, How did you catch that ball?"

"Pure luck honey. I mean pure luck."

Stephen put his cigar in his brandy;  "Come on Pedro burn one in there, lets see what he is made of."