*Author's Note: This is erotic fantasy. It involves sexual situations between consenting adults, all of whom are over 18 years of age. Since it is fantasy and it's my fantasy, I presume a world free of STDs. I hope you enjoy the story. Comments are always appreciated.
WENDY - Part 7
She was grateful that both Mary and Monique were out, most likely on a date, she presumed as she treated herself to a nice, long bath in her clawfoot bathtub, sighing with delight when she felt how smooth her skin felt afterwards as she crawled into bed and was almost instantly asleep.
"We thought that we'd let you sleep instead of jumping your bones for all of the details when we got back last night," Mary said the next morning as they had coffee together in the kitchen. "Hopefully, you were so tired from fucking a lot."
"Something like that," Wendy replied, smiling.
"Well?" Mary asked insistently.
"You'd never believe me anyway," Wendy said.
"When have you ever told a lie in your life?" Mary asked. "Saint Wendy."
"If I'm a saint, then the universe is in some serious trouble," Wendy laughed. "Okay. Just so you won't harass me. Jamaica."
"No way!" Mary gasped. "You went to Jamaica?"
"In his private jet, which he flew himself," Wendy added with a smile. "Would you like me to introduce you to him? I met him on the dating website."
"Well, hell, yes!" Mary replied. "Jamaica! No wonder you look sort of tanned. Wow! Some people have all the luck."
It was when she was having coffee with Jonathan the next morning that she remembered why the name Hedonism II had tickled her brain. Vera had mentioned that they had discovered Reggae when they stayed there. She smiled when she thought of Vera at the wading pool. Then she started researching 7 Mile Beach and the properties along it, making notes about quality, capacity, price, and reputation. Encouraged by what she learned, she then looked online for attorneys in Negril and found one Nigel Hawthorne who was a real estate specialist. Smiling, she looked at the clock to make sure of the time in Negril and dialed the number that she had found.
"Nigel Hawthorne Law Offices," a very British-accented voice answered.
"Mr. Hawthorne, my name is...Jenny Smith and I'd like to inquire about real estate in the Negril area," Wendy said.
"I'd be happy to answer any questions that you may have," Nigel replied.
"Is there a ready availability of single-family homes in the Negril area?" Wendy asked.
"Right now, there are almost 100 of them," Nigel replied, "and that doesn't take into account condominiums."
"What price ranges are they?" Wendy asked.
"They run the gamut, though most of them are at the top of the market price-wise," Nigel replied. "Are you looking to buy?" he asked.
"Possibly," Wendy replied. "We liked the area when we were there on vacation."
"7 Mile Beach is not Negril by any stretch of the imagination, other than a few of the restaurants," Nigel said. "Negril is a town with its own unique identity and charm."
"I noticed an incompletely built hotel or something in the middle of 7 Mile Beach," Wendy said. "Do eyesores like that hurt the market?"
"The only thing that 7 Mile Beach does is create jobs for a lot of the people living in Negril," Nigel replied. "The prospect of the jobs brings people from all over Jamaica to live here, so it's a nicely eclectic community representing the whole island. That particular resort, the Japanese investors went broke after spending some $120 million. They got the structure up, the plumbing is installed and the electrical circuitry, but no fixtures. It turns out that a couple of the investors were members of the Yakuza and got caught doing something that they shouldn't have and sent to prison. They defaulted on their obligations to the Jamaican government, so the government confiscated the property. And there it sits."
"Why don't they develop it?" Wendy asked.
"They're simply not capable, and for once, they know it," Nigel replied.
"Who not sell it to someone else to develop?" Wendy asked.
"I have no idea," Nigel replied.
"Well, thank you for the information," Wendy said. "I really appreciate it."
"Anytime, Ms. Smith," Nigel said. "Have a nice day."
"And you," Wendy replied, then hung up the phone, staring into space thoughtfully for a long while before once again starting to do searches and make notes.
It was 4:45 when Wendy entered Jonathan's office and sat down in front of his desk.
"That's quite a serious face you're wearing," Jonathan said. "What's up?"
"I know that you've thought that some of my ideas were out of left field, even totally nuts," Wendy began, "but now I've got one that's going to make you want to have me certified and locked up in a rubber room."
"Oh, Jesus," Jonathan said with a big sigh. "Am I going to like this?"
"I don't know," Wendy laughed. "My head is still spinning and it's my idea. Why don't you let me take you to dinner and I'll tell you all about it?"
"I'll take you to dinner and you can still tell me all about it," Jonathan said. "Where would you like to go?"
"Azores," Wendy replied, smiling.
"Where are Daryl and Chris these days?" Jonathan asked. "Let me call Vera and tell her that I'll be late."
"Daryl is in the Florida Keys and Chris is in Belize," Wendy replied. "Gianni says that they're pure gold and that the people that they're training are crazy about them."
"I'm not surprised," Jonathan said as they entered his limousine and he told the driver where to go.
The first thing Wendy noticed was the elevated noise level in the restaurant.
"Never been to a Portuguese restaurant?" Jonathan asked as they were seated.
"No," Wendy replied. "It seems quite...lively."
"That's one of the things that defines Portuguese dining," Jonathan said. "Eating is a zestful experience. Their seafood is what they're the most famous for, that and their wines."
"A bottle of vinho verde," he ordered when they were handed menus.
"Why don't you order the dinner?" Wendy suggested. "Just pick the two best things and we'll share."
"Grilled sardines and polvo Γ la Lagareiro," he ordered. "Please split it equally onto two plates."
"Sardines?" Wendy asked when the server left the table.
"These sardines are 6"-8" long," Jonathan explained with a laugh. "They marinate them in Portuguese olive oil, which I think is the best, until they cook them on the grill. They've got lots of flavor."
The server returned and showed Jonathan the bottle of wine, then opened it and poured him a taste, then poured the glasses full when he had approved.
"It's bubbly," Wendy observed.