The Vacation Wife by David Stone (best selling autobiographies TXT) 📕

serviced our needs and sat on a bench to eat our score.

“Fuck, these are so delicious!” said Marci, cruising through her taco like a knife through butter. I sped through mine as well out of fear she would steal it. When she was hungry, it was each man for himself.

We walked until we ran of places to walk to, the clue being the absence of street lights and the encroachment of jungle. We found our car and headed back to the hotel.

“Let’s check out the bar,” said Marci. “I want to see if their friends arrived. As I was curious too I didn’t object though I was dying to get Marci out of her dress. It had been teasing me all night with its peek-a-boo features.

“There they are,” I said. Gail and Emily were facing us, sitting with another couple, a man and a woman. Gail saw us and waved us over. Though I saw only the backs of the couple’s heads, they seemed familiar. How that worked I didn’t know. Marci and I walked over and as we came up to their table, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Hey there!” said Gail. She was extremely cheerful. “Let me introduce you!”

It was hardly necessary. In front of me sat Harold and Meg. They both had rather surprised looks on their faces.

“Ryan!” said Meg. “We never expected to see you here!” She stood and gave me a hug.

“Hi, and hello Harold,” I said.

“You all know each other?” asked Emily, which was a reasonable surmise given that we already knew each other’s names.

“Yes, we do,” I said. “Harold and I work together.” I turned to Marci. “You remember Harold and Meg, don’t you? I know you’ve met each other a couple of times.”

“At the charity auction!” said Meg. “Hi, Marci. It’s nice to see you again.” Meg turned to me, but her eyes were surveying the bar. “Where’s Susan?”

This stumped me. Marci, being less stumped, said Susan was still in her room. “She’ll be down later,” she added, proving she could lie through her teeth.

“Oh, nice!” said Meg.

We all sat, with me wondering what the hell everyone knew about each other. Marci and I knew Gail and Emily were meeting “another couple” that evening, having framed it in such a way as to suggest a foursome was in the works, a foursome which apparently included Harold and Meg. Meanwhile, Gail and Emily knew Marci was my vacation wife, and my real wife was shacked up with another man somewhere in town.

Harold and Meg didn’t know we knew they were the “other couple”, there to engage in a foursome with Emily and Gail, or that Marci was posing as my wife.

What was I missing? Emily and Gail didn’t know Harold and Meg didn’t also know Marci was posing as my wife. That was the sum of it. If anything, I felt the next few minutes would prove interesting.

“Who’s Susan?” asked Emily.

“Ryan’s wife,” said Meg.

“Oh,” said Emily, unprepared with further thoughts on the matter. Gail was.

“So, your wife is here too, at the hotel?” she asked. I detected mischief in her tone of voice.

“Yes, of course!” said Marci, gaily.

Showing surprising vigilance, Chloe appeared to take our orders, her eyes once again betraying no sign of recognition. As I assumed she hit on everyone she met, there was no need for her to keep a mental record. I ordered two mojitos, knowing they were lined up on the bar ready for quick delivery. In less than a minute Chloe returned with our drinks.

“Are you all together?” she asked.

“Just put it on our room,” said Marci. She signed the receipt and gave it back. Now Chloe was reacquainted with our room number, but more than that, Marci had said “our room”.

Meg gave me a look.

“Cheers!” said Marci. We all toasted.

“Have you just arrived?” I ask, speaking to Harold. It was a logical place to begin a discussion, and much better than “What the hell is going on here?”.

“This morning, yes. We drove down from Cancun.”

“I saw that you’d put in for vacation time,” I said. “I didn’t think to ask where you were headed.”

“Same here,” say Harold. “It’s a funny coincidence, really, with Marci here. I didn’t know Tulum existed before that charity auction. I saw it in the brochure. Meg said I should bid, but we left before it came up.”

“I won that bid,” I said.

“That is funny,” said Meg. “I told Harold I wanted to visit, and next thing I knew he booked a trip. Then Emily and Gail decided to join us.”

Okay, that was out of the bag now. Harold and Meg were definitely the couple Emily and Gail had spoken about.

“I wonder what’s keeping Susan,” asked Meg.

“I thought she was staying somewhere else,” said Emily, proving her memory was working.

“Oh,” said Meg. “Where’s that?”

“Say,” I said before anyone could reply. “I wonder if I might have a word with Harold. It’s business related.” I stood and Harold followed me to the bar.

“I have a feeling this isn’t about business,” he said, once we gained two stools. Chloe, not recognizing us from the table, which must have been only minutes ago, welcomed us to the Mojito Bar. I ordered two double bourbons neat.

“No.” I said. “It’s not about business.” Chloe slid the two bourbons across the bar and I took a sip. “It’s about Susan.”

“I wondered about that.”

“There’s no need to wonder. I’ll tell you. She’s not here. She’s staying with a friend of ours. He has a condo here.”

“And you’re here with Marci. She’s a fine looking woman. So is Susan.”

“Thanks. That’s the sum of if. Do I need to say any more?”

“Of course not. I won’t say a word.”

“What about Meg?”

“I’ll tell her,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks.”

“Listen,” said Harold. “You’re being kind not to ask. I suspect you know what’s going on.”

“Frankly, I have a good idea. We talked with Emily and Gail earlier this evening. They said a couple would be joining them tonight. Prior to that, they’d mention