"I am!" the brunette next to her piped up, "and I'm out of champagne, too!"
"What an affront to the crown!" I cried. I hit the button that connected me to the staff below deck and said, "Another bottle of Cristal for the ladies!"
"Right away, sir," the voice replied and, in moments, a staff member dressed in pure white emerged from below, carrying an ice-cold bottle of champagne wrapped in a white napkin. He waited for my nod before popping the cork and sinking the bottle deep into the bucket of ice.
"But I'm still empty," the brunette pouted.
I grabbed the bottle and refilled her glass, smiling as she tugged at the strings that kept her bikini bottoms up on her hips. Both girls had long since removed their tops, allowing me to admire their oil-coated breasts. This offering seemed to be leading somewhere else entirely.
"You're a very naughty girl, prinkipissa!" I playfully scolded her as she tugged the thin strip of material away from her body and tossed it at me.
"You have no idea, Jack," she purred. She and her blonde friend leaned forward and grabbed my hands, pulling me down between them on the lounging bench.
Before I knew it, they had stripped me of my swim trunks and were taking turns wrapping their hands around my stiff shaft as they kissed me and pressed their naked bodies against mine. I gave in to their ministrations as I lay back and watched their glistening bodies move over mine. These tanned nymphs always managed to find my weak spots and exploit them, much to my delight—and often theirs.
Just as the blonde was about to take me deep into her mouth for the second time, a staff member emerged from below deck holding a phone.
"Sir, you have an urgent call," he said as he managed to keep his eyes above the action happening on the lounge.
"Can't you take a message and tell
them I'll call back?" I said, irritated, as I watched the brunette princess playfully fight for her oral rights.
"It's your mother, sir," he said. "She said it is urgent that you answer the call. No matter what you are doing."
"Son-of-a-bitch," I swore under my breath as I pushed the girls aside and pulled my shorts back on. The one thing I knew about my mother was that she never cried wolf. If she said it was urgent, then it was urgent.
I descended the stairs and entered my office where the phone sat waiting for me. I took a deep breath before I picked it up.
"Hello, Mother," I began.
"Jackson Fitzgerald, you need to come home," she said solemnly. "I need you here, now."
"What's wrong, Mother?" I asked, playfully adding, "Can't the king fix things for you anymore?"
"Your father is dead, Jack," she said and then went silent.
"Wait, what?" I replied, unsure that I'd heard her correctly. "I thought you just said Pop is dead."
"I did," she replied. "He died this morning on his way to meet with some new investors."
"You're kidding me, right?" I said, trying to process the news, "He can't be dead. He's the healthiest man alive. He's obsessive when it comes to his health!"
"I'm sorry, Jack," my mother said, "I know it's your birthday and that you had a party planned, but we need you to come home right away."
"I'll get there as soon as I can," I said, adding as an afterthought, "Are you okay?"
"I'm . . . I'm . . . I don't know what I am," my mother said, sounding small and scared. "I didn't expect this."
"I'll get home as soon as I can. I promise," I said, trying to reassure my mother from thousands of miles away. "Where's Lincoln? Why isn't he there with you?"
"He's in California on a big case," she said quietly. "He said he'd try to get home by the end of the week."
"Son-of-a-bitch," I cursed under my breath.
"Jackson Fitzgerald!" my mother scolded. "Do not say those words! They are vulgar!"
"Sorry, Mother," I apologized, but I wasn't sorry at all. I was pissed at my brother for not hopping on the next plane back to New York to be with our mother as she grieved. "I'll get to Athens and catch the next plane out. Probably in the morning."