Chapter 12
Miquela
The fresh air was only comparable to the crisp feel of the water as it splashed against Miquela’s hand. Been too long since I felt something as nice as this. She wouldn’t say that water flowed in her veins instead of blood, but a Monegasque had some standards to keep.
The marina was something she had longed to visit since moving into town, but work – and play – had kept her from it. That Thursday, however, she had the afternoon off and fully intended to take stock of the actual city around her.
Aimee was off with the new friends she had made.
Miquela didn’t need her today, although she might later if she decided to buy a boat and required someone to help her sort through the paperwork.
Aimee was a star at organizing. So was Miquela, but it was much nicer to hire someone to do it for her so she could concentrate on other things.
Like life on the open seas… even if the sea was a little way away.
The river was huge, though, and boats meandered up and down the current.
Not just motorboats and yachts, either. Barges carrying precious economic cargo headed either toward the sea or the factories farther upriver.
Of course, there were quite a few hobbyists at the dock, and tourists pointed to this million-dollar yacht and that speedy fishing boat.
I don’t think I would want to go fishing around here, though.
Who knew what those barges trailed behind them?
Miquela was dressed down for the first time in a long while.
Loose-fitting khakis and a breezy cotton shirt kept her warm and cool at the same time.
Some of her compatriots back home liked to go out in cotton shorts and tank tops.
They liked getting dirty. But Miquela was out to possibly buy and needed to make sure she looked the part.
The marina was plenty large, with multiple rows of private access docks that could only be accessed with a keycard.
A woman could hop in the water and climb aboard, but that was for less scrupulous characters.
The electronic gates leading to each dock gave owners a semblance of protection that they would pay any amount to have.
I’ll pass on the monsters. One end of the marina was inhabited by huge multimillion-dollar yachts that probably made the Forbes lists. While Miquela could appreciate them, she was more into the smaller, sportier yachts… like the one she came upon called the St. Jude.
Sounds familiar. Anything that made her think of June was good enough for her.
A prim For Sale sign hung by the security keypad. “Call the following number if you are interested: tours by appointment only.”
“Hey, stranger! In the market for a vessel? Or are you checking out the wares?”
That voice came from above. Miquela looked up to the neighboring yacht and saw a woman near her age hanging over the edge.
Scruffy black hair. Blue polo shirt. A Rolex that said she liked to get wet on her boat – otherwise, she would be wearing a much more expensive watch.
Because no woman wears her nicest watch on her vessel if she intends to get dirty. Miquela liked her already.
Her small yacht was called Priss & Moan, which made Miquela bite back a laugh lest she make an ass out of herself. “I may be in the market.”
“Whoa! Nice accent.” The yachtswoman pressed a button, lowering a polished wooden ladder to the dock. Is she coming down? Or am I going up? Miquela didn’t want to be presumptuous. “What’s your name, stranger? New in town? Or just visiting?”
“Miquela Bolivar, if you please. I just moved here.”
“Bolivar? The Spanish Bolivars?”
“Close.” Miquela grinned. “Monaco.”
“Monaco! So, you’re that branch of the Bolivar tree? I’m already not worthy. Care to come up to class my humble abode up a bit?”
Still chuckling, Miquela helped herself onto the sturdy ladder and made a quick jaunt of it. At her height, it was easy to take things two at a time. By the time she was on the deck, she was already shaking the owner’s hand. Firm grip. Excellent. “Sorry. Didn’t catch your name.”
“Zara Felton. You wouldn’t have heard of my family. Peasants, compared to yours.”
“I highly doubt that. You’ve got the upper hand around here. I don’t know anyone.”
“You can afford to know anyone.” Zara pulled open the nearest cabin door. “How about a beer? The weather is too good to pass up a beer.”
“Sure.”
“Any preference?”
“Citrus, if it’s available.”
Zara disappeared for a few minutes, leaving Miquela to stand on the deck and survey the marina from a new level.
It truly is beautiful around here. Maybe she was still in the honeymoon phase.
Not that she ever expected to be in a honeymoon phase here, but…
some things changed the colors of the sky and made the imposing skyscrapers on the other side of the river not look so imposing after all.
Yeah, I can take over all those businesses.
Leave it to me. Was that Spanish bravado?
Or general European bravado? Some would say it was both.
When her host returned, it was with two tall glasses of ale. They stood at the railing overlooking the river and enjoyed their drinks in quiet. Until Zara couldn’t stand it anymore.
“So, what brings you to our fair city? Investment or hostile takeover?”
Miquela grinned into her drink. “A little bit of both.”
“Bolivar from Monaco… casinos, right?”
“Mostly casinos and resorts, yes.”
“You’ll fit right in here. Lot of real estate moguls around here. Bit of a Mecca.”
“Are you in real estate?”
“Hell, no. My family considers the time-honored tradition of manufacturing its greatest pursuit.” When Miquela’s interest remained piqued, Zara continued. “We’re in steel.”
“Ah. Steel is good. We need steel to build those resorts.”
“Indeed, you all do.” Zara finished her drink and put her empty glass aside. “Believe it or not, I’m mostly an artist. Not making me millions anytime soon, but it’s a good way to spend one’s life.”
“Being an artist on a boat? I would think so.” As a European, Miquela had a lot of respect for the arts. And sailing. Combining the two had never occurred to her before, though. “What’s your medium?”
“A bit of this, a bit of that. I dabble in paint, sculpture, and even woodwork if I fancy it. I bought the apartment right next to mine to turn it into a studio. I’m also a lazy bitch. Most of us useless Americans are.”
“Smart.”
“I know! You Europeans should get on this lazy train.”
This woman’s a trip. A fun trip, but a trip, nonetheless. “Your significant other lets you get away with this?”
“Nah, I’m single.” She seemed rather proud of that fact. “Serially single, if you know what I mean.”
Zara picked up her empty glass so she and Miquela could toast to that statement.
“What about you? Got a woman back in Monaco?”
“Not quite.” There were women in Monaco. Quite a few broken hearts, truth be told. None of them was really Miquela’s type. Too high maintenance. Not willing to have enough fun in the bedroom. She liked her women adventurous and willing. Like June.
Miquela glanced at the available yacht next door. Was it fate that it was called the St. Jude? Wasn’t that the apostle of lost causes? Like being in a relationship with June…
She wants me to become her patron. Having her on call whenever Miquela wanted?
Being able to bring June back to her apartment, or take her to Europe for some fun in the Mediterranean sun?
Sounded like heaven. Miquela didn’t even mind spoiling her with presents.
She had already asked about the Manoir’s gifting policy, since every house had its own rules.
Some were open to anything for anyone, but the Manoir made it clear that no gifts worth above a certain amount were allowed…
unless the woman was her patron. Naturally, everything Miquela thought about giving her fair and sexy June was well above the limit.
Funny. She never would’ve thought that paying for the privilege of gifting expensive items was so appealing.
“There are a lot of beautiful and eligible women around here. Best news? All the rich dykes like us are being scooped up. More women for the rest of us.”
“I had heard such things. Quite a few weddings, isn’t there?”
“There’s a reason the social papers are doing so well right now. Do you know of Etta Coleman? She’s getting married in a couple of months. Big deal.”
“Ah, yes, I know her. I’m actually having dinner with her next week.”
“I’ve met her a few times. She doesn’t have as much use for steel as the other girlies.”
They were silent again, Miquela enjoying the last of her beer while Zara fiddled with some ropes.
The way she wove them together with dexterous fingers told of an expert naval officer and artist. There was technique, then there was style.
“Do you know anything about that vessel there?” Miquela pointed to the St. Jude.
“I may be in the market while I’m here.”
“That one? Seems like a nice little thing. Don’t see it out much. The owner doesn’t live around here anymore, so I think that’s why he’s selling.”
“I see.”
“Thinking about grabbing it? Aw, we could be marina neighbors!”
It was not in Miquela’s nature to say, “I would like that,” but she smiled, conveying that she was not opposed to such an idea.
“A registered letter came for you while you were gone, Madame,” Aimee said over the phone. “I signed for it as I was heading out the door.”
Miquela relaxed in the elevator as she ascended to her floor. “Merci, Aimee. Go ahead and enjoy the rest of your day. Tomorrow, I’ll need you to make some phone calls about a boat.”
She could practically hear Aimee smile on the other end. “Already getting into the sailing game again, are we, Madame?”
“A woman needs some comforts of home. Have a good day, Aimee.”
Sure enough, a letter awaited Miquela on the kitchen counter. While it was addressed to her, the return address was a cryptic LM and nothing more. Nevertheless, Miquela knew what it was right away. What else could LM stand for other than Le Manoir?
She tore it open, finding one simple piece of rice paper emblazoned with a fleur-de-lis header.
“You are cordially invited to act as patron to resident June,” the letter began. “We will accept starting bids of $30,000 this next week.” There were instructions on how to bid, as well as highlights of the perks included with being a patron.
Ms. June certainly wasn’t cheap, now was she? Miquela was under no illusions. That was a per-month fee, not a one-time one. On the other hand, she wouldn’t have to pay for any of June’s services… and would have a lot more leeway.
Really, she would be paying thirty grand over a few months. What was the harm of putting in the starting bid? She would be saving money and making both her and June very happy.