I said, “So why would I be interested in this if the women are making all the money? I may as well keep doing what I’ve been doing.”

“Well, you know how women are, they’re inconsistent. First they want to be here, then they don’t. And they’re always coming back and forth after makeups and breakups with their significant others. I mean, you know how that goes. What guy wants to see his woman being looked at and hit on all day while she’s shooting pictures? So this atmosphere is definitely not for everyone.”

I nodded to him. I then stood up to leave. “Okay, let’s go see these Brazilians.”

Billy got excited like a teenager with a brand-new car. He said, “I’m dying to see which one you think is the hottest.”

I just grinned and walked out behind him.

When I viewed the Brazilian women surrounding the pool area, I seriously wondered if Sports Illustrated would be interested. Mr. Vissel’s ideas became full blown with those Brazilians modeling exotic swimsuits. On one end, I was proud that all five of them were beautiful women of color, but then I was saddened in knowing that they would all be up for sale afterward. There was a certain respectable protection that went along with a snobbish supermodel. There was an understanding that only a few chosen guys could get anywhere close to them. But Marcus was making it possible for any geek with a bank account who could pay the membership fee to walk into the mansion and sweep a dream girl off her feet for the night.

I leaned and whispered to Billy, “How often do the prettiest girls in here say yes to a guy?”

He looked at me and answered, “Some of them never say yes. You have a few girls in here who only show up to work with the best photographers, and model in some of the top designer clothes.”

He said, “They look at it as strictly business, and they stay focused on what they came to get out of it.”

That made me feel a little better about the idea. It wasn’t mandatory that a girl sell herself, it was only an option.

I looked back over at Mr. Vissel, and he was still enjoying his interview under the umbrella table with the woman from Esquire magazine.

Billy said, “These interviews are a way of attracting more members who can afford to be here.”

He sure knew a lot about the operation. I guess his young, boyishness didn’t stop him from knowing what he needed to know.

He asked me, “So, which one do you think is the hottest?”

I looked again at the Brazilians and answered, “The one in the sunflower swimsuit with the mole on her cheek.”

Billy responded, “Exactly! I mean, what is it about those moles that make them so damn sexy?”

“They’re small,” I told him. “But if they were as big as major pimples, you’d feel differently about them.”