Chapter 3: The Royal Mistress appears in Paradise

One morning Cisco was supervising me cleaning the pool when I received a call on my radio that I was needed at the front desk. It sounded urgent so Cisco and I hurried to the lobby. There stood Suzy with a suitcase and a carry-on bag!

“I imagine you are surprised to see me.”

“I am. Leave your bags here and follow me please.”

I led her into the now empty restaurant. Breakfast was over and our guests were all out on the beach. I motioned for my cook to bring us both a coffee, then looked at Suzy, “So?”

“No, ‘Good to see you’ or maybe a ‘How have you been?’ Nothing at all?”

“Why are you here Suzy?”

“Jimmy, you know I never stopped loving you. Even after I divorced you for abandoning me, that was Paul’s idea, I still love you.”

“Speaking of old Paul, how are you guys? Still going to the moon?”

“Paul’s dead, Jimmy.”

“What happened? Did this wife catch you two together and shoot him? I promise I kept my word, if she found out, it was not from me.”

“Paul and I were at our house. He took too many blue pills and had a heart attack. The doctor said with his heart condition he should never have been taking those pills. Anyway, I had to call 911 and ... long story short. His wife found out and fired me. Then she sold the company. I went to work as a secretary for an insurance company. I had to sell the house since my salary now is way below what I was making with Paul. This is my first vacation and I thought I would use it to come see if ... you know ... maybe you and I could try and get back together. What do you say? Let’s give it a try?”

About that time Greta opened the door to the restaurant. Let me explain what Suzy is looking at. Greta is German. She stands about 5’ 8”tall and has blond hair and blue eyes. She has on a see-through beach cover-up and the bottoms of a black thong bikini but no top. Her perfect 34-c breasts have pale aureole and pointy nipples. Both her and her friend Ingrid, who could pass as her twin, have been guests here at the hotel for the past five months. She told me she hates the cold weather in Berlin.

Greta is what some people call a “Nepo baby” (trust fund baby). I call her my spoiled rich girlfriend. And yeah, Ingrid and her sleep with me. But before I go any further, I want you to know that I have no illusions about Greta and I. One day in the not-too-distant future she will get tired of the sun, the beach or maybe ME! She and Ingrid will pack up and fly off. I will never see them again. That is what happened with the Swedish girl before them and the French divorcee before her. Understand?

“There you are! Ingrid and I have been looking all over for you, we are ready for that snorkeling trip to the reef you promised us.”

I looked back at Suzy, “I believe we are full this week but check at the front desk and they will find you a room at another hotel in town. Jose will give you a ride. Have a good life.”

I stood and Greta moved into my arms and kissed my lips, “Who is that alte Frau?”

“Someone looking for a meal ticket.”

“Meal ticket? I am not familiar with that term.”

“Not important.”

Ingrid met us in the lobby with Cisco and we walked to the beach. I carried Cisco through the breakers to the boat, he loves to ride. I never saw Suzy again.