White Bikini

The cover of Shameless Exposure shows my wife Caroline on the beach, wearing the white bikini she bought in a shop not far from the Avenida Atlantica by Copacabana beach. She was visiting Brazil on a business trip with the Chief Executive of Monsaint Medical Instruments, an American called Andreas Rivera-Castillo. I never met him, but by all accounts he was a complex character, driven to succeed and frustrated when he couldn't get what he wanted.

Andreas had been head-hunted for the top job at Monsaint, parachuted in to clear up the mess left by the previous CE, Melody Bigger. He left his wife Trish behind in the States. He didn't talk much about her, but hinted that she had nervous anxiety and was better off at home. In London, Andreas hung out with a bunch of American ex-pats, bankers, diplomats, and other senior executives, enjoying the Premier League soccer and the London nightlife.

When Caroline was brought back from Frankfurt and given the lead role in expanding the company into South America she thought it was a reward for good behaviour and a sign that her career was still on an upward curve. Andreas dropped hints about succession planning and the possibility of a board position for her. Bringing her back to HQ would give him the opportunity to observe her work at first hand and to mentor her in the mysterious world of the very senior executive.

The day Caroline bought that bikini was a rare day off in a trip that had taken her to all the major South American capitals. She was glad to get away from Andreas for a while. He had engineered the business trip so that it was just the two of them, and tried every technique he knew to persuade Caroline into his room. At the risk of her career, she held out against him. The company risk assessment for the trip suggested Sao Paulo, the next meeting, was too dangerous, and brave Andreas said he would go alone, allowing Caroline a day on Copacabana beach.

After a little light shopping, she took a walk along the beach then settled down not far from a lifeguard station. A boy appeared taking photographs of women on the beach. She tried to wave him away, but he was persistent, and fifteen minutes later two big men appeared, one black, one white, with a photograph of Caroline and a demand that she pay a hundred dollars US for the picture. She refused. She had been warned against taking cash to the beach and didn't have any dollars anyway.

I won't spoil the book by telling you what happened next.

 Shameless Exposure is an e-book available from Amazon. Just click on the title.

Singles Holiday, Part Three

We arrived at the hotel in time for a late breakfast on the terrace, looking out over the sea and shaded by vines. Tamsin went straight to bed. I stood next to Caroline in the line shuffling past the amazing display of tropical fruits but she said it was too soon, people might get suspicious.

I took some pineapple which has beneficial vitamins in it, and a black coffee. I took spring water, but no Cava. I needed a clear head to study next season's Premiership fixtures. I checked my diary to see if I could get to Swansea on the 17th August. I heard a loud pop and looked up to see half the stag party grouped around Caroline, she holding out her glass to one of the shaven-headed sportsmen for a top-up.

There were loads of things to do but the sun was hot and the Fun4One group were tired from their all-nighters or early starts. I spent the day snoozing and lounging by the infinity pool and exploring the gardens of the hotel. There was plenty to look at round the pool, swimwear being optional, but not smartphones and e-readers. To break the ice, people were asking each other about the merits of the latest Kindle, Kobo, Nook or Sony.

In the evening things livened up. There was a fashion show in a Romanesque amphitheatre behind the hotel. We sat at tables and were served drinks. I waved at Tamsin who sat right at the back with two tall men in cloaks, their faces even paler than Tamsin's. On the stage, a local boutique were shifting stock with the aid of four models who worked their way through the entire collection of evening wear, beachwear and lingerie. The speed of the outfit changes was incredible. You could hardly believe it was the same woman you saw a few moments ago. Now why is it not like that in real life?

As an extra incentive they offered 40% off to any hotel guest who would model an item of swimwear. There had been a certain amount of informal posing by the pool, and there were half a dozen singles, female, who volunteered to display their wears some more. The stags sportingly persuaded their groom to model a thong swimsuit.

Caroline has an eye for a bargain and modelled a white bikini. She walked confidently down the catwalk, shedding a white muslin wrap to tremendous cheers from the stags. She came to the front of the stage and gave me a wink. At least I think it was me. The compere had all the models, volunteers included, on the catwalk for the finale, and made some rude suggestions at the expense of Mr Thong. You can imagine how everyone laughed.

Drinks were served from a small outdoor bar and people sat around in the warm night air after the show. Tamsin emerged from the shadows and joined me at my table.
"Who was that you were talking to? I didn't see them on the plane."
"They're not guests, they're locals," said Tamsin. "Research. Would you like me to introduce you to them?"