Mistress In The Maldives
I worked at one of the top resorts in the Maldives as a personal concierge for the elite guests. The ultra-rich and famous would come here for their holidays. Some arrived in private jets, and one family had this super yacht that they kept parked there year-round just so they could use it for the one time a year they visited. But nothing compares to my most ridiculous story.
Once I was told I’d be looking after Mr. Sergei Popov— he’s on Forbes’ rich list and lives in Switzerland with his wife and kids. However, the arrival list said he would be coming with a woman who did not have the same name as his wife. So, he arrived in Malé (the capital city of Maldives) by private jet from Geneva. From there, there are several options to get to the resort…
There is a 45-minute speedboat journey for the plebs, a 40-minute yacht transfer for the slightly wealthy, and finally, there’s a seaplane transfer that takes 12 minutes. Popov opted for the latter. So a bit of backstory: I got this job because I speak four languages (Russian, English, Thai, and Mandarin). Anyway, I’m waiting at the seaplane pier for him to arrive for the meet and greet.
They exit the seaplane and I do my usual welcome in Russian. They respond in English. Great. Keeping that distance from us lowlifes. So we get on the golf buggy and I give them the tour of the island and take them to their villa. Even though it’s the second-most luxurious category of villa, they’re not satisfied. So I take them to the only available presidential villa. They like it.
We negotiate an extra $12,000 per night for the upgrade. Their total is now at $27,000 per night. It’s a 10,000-square-foot villa with a lot of bells and whistles, including a private mobile phone with a direct line to me 24/7 until they depart. And so begin the eye-popping requests. His mistress’s 33rd birthday is coming up and he wants me to organize a surprise—money is no object.
Done. He wants a seat at the bar reserved every evening, even though we don’t save seats at the bar. Done. His niece is flying in tomorrow and he needs me to meet her and take her to her detached private villa. When I saw her, I knew immediately what was going on. She gets off the seaplane in a full-length mink coat (even though it’s 100+ degrees) and carrying only a purse and no other luggage.
There is no way this is a “niece”. Anyway, his “niece” wants to go directly to the boutique to buy some new clothes. She gets a bunch of bikinis and some other attire that’s more appropriate for a tropical island. I drop her at the villa, but her “uncle” and his mistress are nowhere to be seen. I take her passport and see that she turned 18 just eight days ago.
Nice uncle, I think, getting her a trip to Maldives (just kidding, I was already suspicious). The next day during breakfast, housekeeping calls me to the villa. I walked in and nearly gasped. The master bedroom is a disaster. The sheets were so dirty that they had to be thrown away. Rubbers and bottles were just everywhere.
Anyway, Popov calls me and informs me that his niece is now leaving them. Aww, I was really starting to like this smoking hot bimbo. Now, the mistress’s birthday arrives. I’ve organized a private barbecue at a pavilion overlooking the Indian Ocean that had been specially designed for events like this. I had ordered 100 pounds of rose petals from Sri Lanka.
See, they don’t grow in the Maldives, and I used them to cover all of the sand leading up to the pavilion. Hundreds of candles were floating on the water suspended in transparent fishbowl-type globes. Tchaikovsky was playing. A bottle of grand cru, I forget which, probably Rothschild, was decanting. A personal chef, personal waiter, and waitress were at the ready.
I was on standby. At the end of the dinner, I came to see how it went. He thanked everyone “from the heart”. We thanked him for the $14,000 he forked out for the dinner. Everyone is satisfied. The next day they speak to me in Russian like an old friend. He tells me his departure plan and hands me an envelope containing $2,000—my tip for their seven-day stay.
The total cost of the seven days all in: $230,000.
Story credit: Reddit / _mirooo