RICH PEOPLE PROBLEMS

by mormataguinod

Artwork: NORMA G. TAGUINOD

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RICH PEOPLE PROBLEMS

by mormataguinod

Artwork: NORMA G. TAGUINOD

Joined Jun 2022
Published Books 1

Bettina Ortiz y Meña was not accustomed to waiting. A former Miss Venezuela and

Miss Universe runner-up.

Shayne : She is now the wife of the Miami auto-parts tycoon, Herman Ortiz y Meña.

At every restaurant she chose to grace with her presence, she was always greeted with reverence

and whisked to the exact table she desired.

RICH PEOPLE PROBLEMS by mormataguinod - Illustrated by NORMA G. TAGUINOD - Ourboox.com

Today, she wanted the corner table on the terrace at Sip Sip, her favorite lunch spot on Harbour Island.

She wanted to sit on one of the comfy orange chairs and stare out at the gently lapping

turquoise waters while eating her kale Caesar salad.

But there was a large noisy group taking up the entire terrace and they didn’t seem in much

hurry to leave.

Bettina fumed as she glared at the tourists happily savoring their lunch in the sun. Look how tacky

they were . . .

The women overly tanned, wrinkled, and saggy, none of them properly lifted or botoxed.

And the men were even worse! All dressed in old rumpled shirts and shorts, wearing those cheap

straw hats sold at the trinket shop on Dunmore Street. Why did such people have to come here?

Feeling like she had been patient long enough, Bettina stormed into the kitchen.

The fringe on her crocheted Pucci caftan top shaking furiously as she made a beeline for the

woman with a shock of pixie-cut blond hair manning the main stove.

“Julie, honey, what’s the dealio? I’ve waited more than fifteen minutes for my table!”

“Sorry, Bettina, it’s been one of those days. The party of twelve on the terrace showed up just

before you did.”

“But the terrace is your prime spot! Why on earth did you let those tourists take up all that space?”

“Well, that tourist in the red fishing cap is the Duke of Glencora. His party just boated over from

Windermere—that’s his Royal Huisman you see moored off the coast. Isn’t it the most handsome

sailboat you’ve ever seen?”

“I’m not impressed by big boats.”

Bettina huffed, although secretly she was rather impressed by people with big titles.

From the kitchen window, she surveyed the party assembled on the terrace with new eyes.

These aristo British types were such a strange breed.

Sure, they had their Savile Row suits and their heirloom tiaras, but when they traveled, they

looked so painfully frumpy.

It was only then that Bettina noticed three tan, well-built men in fitted white T-shirts and black

Kevlar pants sitting at the adjacent table. The guys weren’t eating but sat watchfully, sipping glasses of

seltzer water.

“I assume that’s the duke’s security detail? They couldn’t be more obvious! Don’t they know that

we’re all billionaires here on Briland, and this isn’t how we roll?”

“Actually, those bodyguards belong to the duke’s special guest. They did a whole sweep of the

restaurant before the party arrived. They even searched my walk-in freezer. See that Chinese fellow

seated at the end of the table?”

Bettina squinted through her Dior Extase sunglasses at the portly, balding, seventy-something

Asian man dressed in a nondescript white short-sleeved golf shirt and gray trousers.

“Oh, I didn’t even notice him! Am I supposed to know who he is?”

“That’s Alfred Shang.”

“He looks like their chauffeur. Doesn’t he look like that guy that used to drive Jane Wyman around

in Falcon Crest?”

“From what I hear, that chauffeur is the most powerful man in Asia.”

“What’s his name again?”

“Alfred Shang. He’s Singaporean but lives mostly in England on an estate that’s half the size of

Scotland, so I’m told.”

“Well I’ve never seen his name on any of the rich lists.”

“Bettina, I’m sure you know that there are people on this planet who are far too rich and powerful

to ever appear on those lists!”

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