Secondhand Rich

"Kate, would you believe this is only my second time in the Mediterranean? " Edward asked.

"Really? This is my eighth," replied the beautiful young woman across from him.

"Then you're accustomed to the yacht lifestyle." Wood groaned and metal creaked as a large wave set the boat to bobbing. "Probably on nicer, larger yachts than mine."

"This is your yacht? I assumed it was borrowed from a friend."

Edward clutched his chest. "That stings." He smoothed the wrinkles out of his linen shirt. "It's mine and the crew are employees. Surely in our time together you've deduced I'm rich."

"You're rich, but I know you can't afford all this. The sale of your company only netted you fifteen million - four years ago."

"Has my accountant been talking to you?"

"Don't act so surprised. I minored in Finance so yes, I'm good at money math. You don't work so be honest, what are you doing to afford the exotic cars and extravagant getaways on a personal yacht?" Her face darkened, an angry fire igniting in her eyes. "What's in the crates we picked up at the last port? Tell me you're not involved with organized crime. I won't be caught up in that again."

He hung his head and sighed. "You caught me. I'm on the run from the law."

She put her hands on her hips, "Edward, what did you do?"

"I'm wanted by the authorities for being too good-looking." He grinned and gave her a wink.

"I'm being serious. Are you in financial trouble? Are you being blackmailed or extorted?"

"Of course not. I purchased everything from people who no longer wanted them." He brushed the sand off his deck shoes.

She pointed. "Are those calfskin loafers by Hermes?"

"I believe they are. Not an expert on boat shoes like you."

She looked around the stateroom and at the clothes hanging in the closet. "Did...did you buy your clothes from Darryl Pitts the 'Trust fund Tycoon?'"

His eyes went wide. "Yes. You know him?"

"I do. We briefly dated two years ago. He loved to brag about how expensive his collection of 'Hermes shoes from Paris' are. How can you afford them? "

"You are right. I cannot afford them at list price." He ran his hand along the smooth edges of the chestnut and beach wood chiffonier custom-built by Italian artisans. "Are you familiar with the term secondhand rich?"

"No."

"With Darryl, you experienced firsthand how the obscenely wealthy use something a few times and toss it. Even if it means buying the same pair of expensive deck shoes multiple times. You never wondered what happens to the things they abandon? When I began associating with the upper classes, that question gradually consumed me. You see, I was raised in a middle-class family. The excesses and waste of the wealthy are abhorrent to someone whose life has been defined by scarcity."

"That explains why you have no qualms about asking wait staff to box up our meals."

"Saving leftovers and remainders is normal for most people. In a family of three kids and a single income, owning something new was the exception. We shopped at thrift shops, discount warehouses, and yard sales. When I became rich, it occurred to me there might be something like that among the upper class. I discreetly asked around where to buy used luxury items."

"What did you learn?"

"There's an entire underground market that caters to the not-so-rich-and-hardly-famous like me. Did you know there are networks of maids, butlers, hotel managers, and personal assistants who specialize in disposing of the castoff from the one-percenters?"

"How does this go unnoticed by the wealthy?"

"To them, the serving class are invisible. Little more than mobile room decor. All it requires is recognizing them and treating them with decency to unlock their hidden world. Once I plugged into that network, a market of discount luxury items became available to me."

"And this is all legal?"

"My only crime is not asking you on a date earlier." Edward leaned in to kiss Kate.

"I should have you arrested for that." She reciprocated his kiss, then leaned back to scrutinize him. "If you've been following Darryl Pitts around, did you already know we dated?" She gave him a cold stare. "Am I a secondhand girlfriend?"

Without a microsecond of hesitation, he replied, "Darryl doesn't appreciate what he has. I do. He casts off people and possessions like they're equally disposable. I seize with passion what he shouldn't have let go." He pulled her closer. "I give them a home where they're loved."

"I need to know, were you aware Darryl and I dated before we met? After he dumped me, I vowed I would never again be a fashion accessory."

"He was a fool to let you go. I fell in love with you not because you used to be his, but for who you are."

"I believe you. You've always made me feel like an equal, a partner...and someone I could see spending the rest of my life with. You better hold onto this secondhand heart because it's full of firsthand love for you."

"You don't know how overjoyed I am to hear that. If you're willing to stay on this life journey with me, I hope you love snow. My inside guy at Chalet Cryst'Aile informed me the rockstar Johnee Famus is ending his ski vacation. I can book a private jet tonight to Courcheval, France and have us on the slopes by this time tomorrow."

"Cryst'Aile has a six-month waitlist. Even a billionaire couldn't call and get a chalet in a week."

"Waitlists are for the elitist snobs you used to hang out with. Snow skiing is tomorrow. Today, we enjoy the barely used scuba diving equipment we loaded in port."