“Ms. Bolivar is here… and so is Sette.”
June dropped her hairbrush. “What!”
“You didn’t double-book, did you?”
“No! Why is Sette here? She never comes on Fridays!”
“She’s here… and they’re both waiting for you. In my office, no less.”
No no no! June followed Monique down to the office, brain throbbing with the possibilities. Like how they were both dumping her. Or worse. Making her choose!
Clients could be so fickle. So underwhelming. So damn immature that they constantly made a woman’s life difficult!
June was not prepared for the scene in Monique’s office. She expected to find her favorite lovers on opposite ends of the room. Or, worse, engaging in the most barbaric display of dominance,like at the wedding. I can’t stand either thought. Both were embarrassing.
Neither was happening.
Instead, she found Miquela and Sette sitting in the chairs before Monique’s desk. Relaxed. Bored. They both looked like they had come to discuss legal proceedings or to get a mortgage at the bank. Their body language pointed to one another instead of away. They were not in a hurry to have a conversation, but they also weren’t throwing punches like a couple of pubescent middle-schoolers.
June had never been so confused. She nodded to them both before sitting on a loveseat on the far side of the room. Monique took her place behind the desk.
“Ladies,” she said with grace. “I so would like to know what brings you here. Pardon me for inviting June in. I assumed that this had to do with her and that she had a right to know.”
They glanced at June before focusing back on Monique.
“We are indeed here to talk about our June,” Miquela said in her indescribable accent.
“Our?” Monique had never looked so shocked in her life. Either that, or she suddenly had gestational heartburn. “This is a turn of events.”
“Forgive me for doing all the talking,” Miquela continued, “but since I was originally to sign on to become June’s patron this weekend, I thought it pertinent to make it clear that I agree to what we’re about to propose.”
“Go on.”
Both women shared a silent word. Don’t you dare fuck me over.
“I’ve had ample opportunity to talk to Dr. Christie over the past week. She’s made it clear that she is in love with June, but has been kind enough to congratulate me on my recent winnings. I must admit, though, that I was swayed by heremotional outpouring.” You’re so full of shit, Miquela. Sette was trying her damn hardest not to smack her hand against her own forehead. “So much so that she and I came to an eventual agreement. You see, I also am in love with June. Hence, my willingness to spend so much money a month on her to be her patron. At first, we saw this as a terrible love triangle, let alone for a woman with her career pursuits. Then we realized that it didn’t have to be a triangle at all, but a different, more fulfilling arrangement.”
Monique cleared her throat. “I’m listening.”
“We know what we’re about to say is not what you usually do,” Sette said in Miquela’s stead. “But we want to make it clear that we both agree to this. We simply want to make sure that you and June do as well.”
June was completely frozen to the loveseat, and glad that she had worn the pantsuit. Otherwise, her sweaty legs would be sticking all over the leather beneath her.
Miquela finished what they had started to say. “We would both like to offer an equal investment in June’s career. That is, we would both like to be her patrons.”
The office was so quiet that the ticking clock on the wall sounded like thunder.
What. The. Fuck. June had to remind herself to breathe. Monique looked like she was about to go into labor.
“Of course, this would mean some changes.” Miquela pulled out a piece of paper and slid it across the desk. “We hope that you two find this satisfactory, but we are open to haggling.”
Haggling!
“I think our dear European friend means discussing,” Sette said, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. “I, for one, think it’s a great deal that I am 100% on board with. Assuming that you ladies are as well.” She shot June a look. It was so steely, so calculating that she almost died.
“This is certainly unprecedented.” Monique turned the paper over and studied it carefully. “If I’m reading this right, you are both offering to pay $100,000 a month for the privilege.”
“We are willing to go higher if you would like,” Sette said, “but we figured this way it was the same amount that Ms. Bolivar here was going to pay anyway, so you’re not losing any of the money originally promised to you. Our only stipulation is that we pay the same amount, to keep it fair.”
