Dolores saw herself out without another word. Miquela tried to go back to work.Triedbeing the operative word.
Chapter 7
June
June had no obligations until the evening. When the personal stylist from New York heard this, she insisted on coming down that day.
She had been touched by stylists before. Clients loved to spoil her with spa days and trips to famous boutiques all over the world. Since coming to the Manoir, June wasn’t allowed to go out with anyone but her patron, but clients could gift her experiences for the next time she went somewhere on her own – or with her patron, not that they had to know.One time, someone took me to Montreal, and I spent my day off getting shitfaced at a club another client paid for me to go to… because I know how to spank their asses and tell them that they’re a sick shit. It was a delicate balancing act for everyone involved.
Now, she stood in her bedroom, having some middle-aged woman and her entourage of three men poking, prodding, anddressing her for a wedding she didn’t even know she was going to until a few days ago.
“More red!” the stylist hollered. “She said no pink!”
Not that June wanted to wear pink, but the idea that she had to go by Miquela’s rules… well, she was the boss right now. June would have to keep the eyerolls in check, however. Especially when some bright lavender piece of shit was slapped against her skin. Clearly, red.
“Looks like a damn hurricane in here,” Monique muttered from the doorway once everyone was gone in the late afternoon. June wandered around in a silk slip, trying to clean things up in case Miquela came that night. “Should I send a maid in to help you?”
“No thanks.” June found a box full of sex toys beneath a red and yellow kimono. Who was going through this? Now she had to disinfect them all again. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Do I have an appointment I should know about?”
“No.” Monique smiled. “Better. You should sit down for this. I received the final bids.”
June sat on her couch. “Go on!”
Monique unfolded a piece of paper covered in her handwriting. Notes, calculations… the woman never stopped working. Or writing in code so June couldn’t pry into what she was up to.One of these days, you’ll have to let me know.
“So? Who is it? Who won the Battle of June’s Body?”
Monique kept her paper close to her chest. “Do you really want to know?”
“Duh!”
“They’re pretty astronomical bids. Our previous record has been smashed by almost over a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Holy shit.” June couldn’t stop smiling. “We’re both rich!” Monique was already filthy rich thanks to her wife. June was about to get richer, though.
For some reason, her boss was not forthcoming with the results. In fact, her countenance turned into a strange look, neither comforting nor critical. “Yes. Both women are offering to spend over a million dollars a year on you, gifts not included. Not that I doubt they have the money, but I want to know something from you.”
June didn’t feel too excited anymore.
“Before I tell you the results,” Monique continued, “I want to ask you one more time if you prefer one of these women over the other.”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not playing favorites with them.”
“Duly noted.” Monique sat on the other end of June’s couch and peered at her notes once more. “Dr. Christie is offering you a final number of $150,000 a month.”
“Wow.” How far that woman had come. From dithering over paying for oral sex to throwing all her money at June.I really am the best…Whatever the other number was, June could clearly claim this as a moment of great pride. “Miquela?”
“Ms. Bolivar, on the other hand, is offering…” Was she pausing for effect? The nerve! “$200,000 a month.”
“Holy. Shit.”
“I had to look at it twice to make sure that’s what it said. Both offers came via the post to make sure there were no errors.”
“So, Miquela is the winner.” June stood, relieved to have this over with. She could get back to business… and back to traveling the whole of Europe if she had her way with Miquela.
Sette would pout, and then pout again when she realized she was forever doomed to paint nothing but the Manoir unless she worked something out behind the scenes with Monique, but it wasn’t a bad thing.I get both of my favorite clients. They both get me. We now know what the boundaries are. June got her cut of $200,000 a month, plus whatever personal gifts Miquelafoisted on her. “She’ll probably be by later tonight. Should I tell her the good news? It would probably get me even more money tonight if she wants to celebrate.”
Monique’s expression did not change. “It’s best if you don’t mention it. Besides…”
