The setting is my seaside mansion, carved out of the living rock of a cliff overlooking the clear blue waters of the south pacific. I awake, stretching luxuriously, around 10 AM. This day, instead of descending the 314 steps to my private beach, I decide to relax by the pool. Less than a minute later, I’m lazing about on a deck chair the size of a ping-pong table, reading a really good book. It’s a gorgeous day, and occasionally I pause to gaze out to sea and at the surrounding islands, looking like nothing else but a series of green jewels trailing off in the distance. A lithe cabana boy enters, stripped to the waist, which doesn’t seem odd to me as male members of my household staff rarely wear shirts. He deposits a flute of champagne and a lox bagel. With a beguiling smile, he leaves. I nibble on breakfast, continuing to read my book.