Disclaimer *This story might not reflect anyone I personally know. The characters and places are most likely fictional...or not*

Have you ever been to a millionaire lesbians engagement party...neither have I until last night.

The setting was a 15 million EURO Villa in St Kitts, French West Indies. The Villa exhaled money, luxury, and vivacious parties. The living area was filled with huge white leather couches. There were eccentric lamps from Paris to paintings from Italy and cutlery from Holland. The Villa had 5 spacious bedrooms, a gym, 7 bathrooms, a private small boat landing, a separate entertainment Villa next to the sea, an L shaped pool and a fabulous view of the ocean. The price a subtle 45 000 US per week in the summer months. In the winter months, the price escalated to a not so subtle $95 000 US per week. The money spent on this engagement party overall, overwhelmed me, and the currency around me quickly represented monopoly money to me.

The couple was friends of my girlfriends. Simone was the self-made millionaire. Charming with an endearing personality and a sexy Latino look to compliment her strengths. She arrived in Canada 20 years ago from a Latin American country. Using her personality strengths she singlehandedly turned selling insurance policies into a multimillion dollar investment business. She met Lolita 8 years ago. Lolita was a party girl surrounded by many simultaneous lovers, occasional drugs and wild parties. She was charming, sexy with behaviour leaning towards loose morals. Lolita gave birth to their daughter 2 years ago. Lolita stopped working years ago and spent her days with their daughter and personal choirs for Simone.

We arrived at the Villa at 8h00pm on their special night. Everyone was requested to wear white. Servants were everywhere making last minute arrangements. The distinguished guests arrived one by one. The decor was set for a night of fun. Disco lights were installed in several places with large speakers and a fog producer to finish off the home made disco. At about 8h30pm we were instructed to proceed down to the private boat landing. The path was lit with fire torches. It reminded me of the Olympics. The entertainment Villa close to the ocean was decorated with long stem white roses hanging from the ceiling. Glitter was strewn on the shiny wooden floor. Vases with roses were everywhere. Two wooden chairs were strategically placed in the middle of the Villa floor. In the one corner, the DJ had set up his Apple laptop ready to wow the guests with romantic music. He had an assistant who seemed to just follow him around for no good reason. Guests stood around introducing themselves to each other. There was David, the medical doctor, with his sexy new young girlfriend. There was Gigi and Angela, a lesbian couple who owns a flower distribution company in Nice. Together with Karin, their best friend who looked like a hooker posing as an international flower event organizer, they were responsible for flying in the roses from Holland. Gigi was one of those people that tries her best to beam out a warm and caring karma. She made me feel uneasy a few times but coming up to me and saying: ‘Hello,….how are you?’ staring into my eyes as if I have some deep hidden secret that she is ready to receive. Karin was 6 foot tall, dressed in a silver designer dress with very expensive jewelry. Her long blond hair hid her face strategically. However, close up, her face showed more lines that the varicose veins around my ankles. I later found out she lost her youngest daughter at thirteen when the teen died of cancer. This event violently broke apart her and her first love’s marriage as can be expected.



Simone and Lolita arrived by small row boat at the private landing where excited and loud guests awaited them. Michel, famous architect from Paris, and Stephane, famous hairstylist from Barcelona stood proud and upright, as upright as two gay queen men can stand, at the landing to receive the girls. The two rowers were Jean, the owner of the car rental company on the island, and Patrick, the owner of the private jets flying all vacationers from and to St Maartens. Of course, they were Simone’s best friends, or one of the 53 best friends present. Michel and Stephane helped the women ashore. Simone wore a see threw white casual designer dress. It was tight and sexy. She had no bra and her brown nipples were clearly visible. Her long and well-formed legs were discreetly showing threw a slit at the side. Lolita also had no bra. Her dress was white and longer but very tight fitting. She had a black G-string underneath the see threw white dress. Sexy fro some I am sure. Michel and Stephane helped the women up the stairs to the level deck and then bent down on one knee putting on some wild high heels with lace up ties on the two lovely ladies. They seemed somewhat familiar with this type of routine. The guests stood in awe, clapping and some women were dancing on the one wall next to the deck level. The music described a fiesta. After some pictures, the two ladies were escorted to the Villa and sat down in the two chairs. Simone read her vows first, although it was all in French, I could feel the deep emotions touch my heart. When Simone openly burst into tears while reading I fought back the tears as they whelmed up in the corners of my eyes. The DJ quickly changed the soft violins to a Latino dance song to distract her. Simone, thinking on her feet, jumped to the front of the Villa floor doing a sexy Latino dance swinging the mic at her side. After composing, she resumed her vows. Lolita’s vows were longer. She even sang a song to Simone. Lolita loved the spotlight and spoke to the guests as if she was a famous singer in front of millions of adoring fans. My legs started paining and I was happy when we were asked to go upstairs to the main house.



As I was listening to the dance music, I realized that it had to be a pre-requisite to be 40 and older to attend this party. The music was only in English, which was strange as the guests were French and Spanish speaking. Guess the English-speaking folks made better disco music after all. I noticed Violet slinking to the middle of the dance floor, alone and with a stare that was blank. She did not smile. As she reached the inner ring of the frantic disco dancers, she started dancing with herself. Not sure how else to describe it. She was doing this sort of sexy, weird, and slow dance. Almost like a snake slithering up a tree. Her moves were not in rhythm with the beat and it looked as if time was standing still for her. I looked across the room at her Paris born, Vice President Banker husband who was staring at her from afar. He looked all but amused. Champagne was flowing. Lights were bouncing off the roof and the sides of the large, dark, L shaped pool besides the dance floor. Lolita was surrounded by her friends. She seemed like a pot of honey and bees were following her around in search of nectar. As she was letting out a drunken laugh she leaned over and French kisses Diana. Diana was married to a man and had 2 children. Hubby faithfully stayed at home taking care of the children. Throughout the night Lolita French kisses several women. I wondered why Simone accepted this behaviour as Lolita was doing this in plain sight. Simone was a big talker but she physically never overstepped her boundaries. I felt sympathy for her hoped that her heart will remain in tact until the wedding 2 years planned into the future. I watched as Francine, eyes glazing and swollen, in her short white dress, tried in vain to take the center stage from Violet. This competition went on until Violet’s husband summoned her that they were leaving abruptly. The air was cold between them. Violet did not smile once. As Francine boldly took over the spotlight, her quiet boyfriend sat on the wide white leather couch watching her. He too did not look amused. I wondered why it was women making fools out of themselves like this. Then there was Pierre. He was single and 7 foot tall. He reminded me of a nerd I went to school with that always tried too hard to make friends. He was dancing with any women making eye contact with him. He was sweaty and I bet stinky. He wore thick glasses and was mostly bald. He danced like a palm tree swaying in the wind. I felt a strange feeling of going back in time 25 years ago. The food came pouring out of the magnificent kitchen. The cook was a local from a restaurant. The owner were of course one of the 53 best friends of Simone. The food was exotic and expensive. Sushi to caviar to red tuna. The servants were running around service food and Champagne dripping in sweat in a sweltering 35-degree Celsius night. Simone’s brother, Sylvain jumped in the pool first. He was a sweet man married to a black surgeon named Melanie. David, the other doctor was struggling to keep his new hot girlfriend out of his mouth and pants. It was not clear whether she was drunk, on drugs or desperate to land a doctor. The few gay men present behaved well and impressed my preconceived ideas of them. Lolita spent the rest of the time jumping in and out of the pool surrounded by her bees. Her nipples now more clearly visible than before in her white dress. Simone was talking to a friend at the side of the pool.



That night the 53 guests drank 150 bottles of imported Champagne at $300 per bottle. The roses were at least $11 000, the food, well I don’t want to guess. I would say the evening alone must have cost Simone close to $75 000…what will the wedding be like! I wait in anticipation.