10. June
June
J une was rarely embarrassed – let alone ashamed – of what she did with her own body. Since she was of a certain age, she had done all sorts of crazy things, let alone in public!
Being caught in a closet with Sette was not something she ever thought she would be ashamed of.
How the hell had she even arrived there?
One moment, she was having a pleasant conversation with her, and the next?
Boom. In the closet, happily making out with one of the only people who made her, well, happy.
She didn’t even say no or think anything but pleasant things when Sette pulled up her skirt and drove those talented fingers into her.
They were only caught because some other tipsy, horny couple had the same idea to use this closet for their wedding reception jollies. One moment, boom , screwing. The next? Boom, exposed to a small gathering of people…
A small gathering of people… that included…
Miquela.
She stood in the back of the crowd, but her height made her unmistakable. Oh, my God. No. June pulled her skirt down, but could not cover what Sette had done. Thanks a lot, Sette!
That same woman was now covered up and did her best not to look absolutely horrified. June was fighting for the same composure as she shoved her way through the crowd and ran for the women’s restroom. Laughter and lewd comments followed.
She didn’t care about any of that. What she cared about was that look in Miquela’s eyes. Not anger. Not amusement.
Plotting. People were most dangerous when they plotted… in jealousy.
June was afraid to come out of the single-stall restroom. Afraid of what she had to face between the two women she…
What? Loved? Ha!
Get a grip . She splashed water on her face after cleaning herself up. This isn’t something you can’t handle . She had only gone back on her promise to Miquela to be with her that day. The woman who would be her patron soon enough. Shit, I’m so stupid!
She had been stupid for weeks now. These women were making her too stupid to function, let alone run her business!
June creaked the bathroom door open to make sure no one was watching for her.
When the coast was clear, she snuck out and attempted to search for Miquela.
Wish I wasn’t wearing a bright red dress or had blond hair.
Good news was that most of the other guests would forget about the sexy gaffe soon enough.
Neither Miquela nor Sette was easy to find. In fact, June couldn’t locate them at all. She checked the ballroom. Nope . The lounge. Nope . She even braved asking the people standing in line for the restroom if they had seen either woman. Nobody had.
She even asked the Princess of Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, or Andorra, or wherethefuckever.
Her Royal Highness had seen no one matching those descriptions, although she did admit to knowing Miquela.
Because of course she did. June half expected to see Prince Albert II of Monaco wandering around there, too.
Finally, she got a lead when she asked one of the ushers. It was not a lead she wanted.
“You mean the two ladies who went out back? I haven’t seen it for myself, ma’am, but I believe they’re committing fisticuffs.”
“What?”
“They’re fighting!” some old woman translated behind her. “I’m gonna go watch!”
Was the building on fire? Because that’s how fast June ran, pushing men in Armani and women in Givenchy aside in the hopes of finding Miquela and Sette before they got arrested. She eventually made it to the main banquet table in the ballroom, where Etta and Jamie sat in their wedded bliss.
Fuck ‘em!
“Have either one of you seen my dates?” June slapped her hands against the banquet table to get their attention. “I think they might be brawling out back!”
“What?”
“ What? ”
“Shit,” June hissed. “Do not tell Monique, okay? Happy wedding!” She tore away from the table and headed for the rear exit.
She had no idea who she would run into out there. No idea what she would see. Think. Feel. All June knew was that the moment the fresh evening air hit her, she was blinded by the setting sunlight.
A few people milled around, taking smoke breaks or otherwise getting fresh air. June searched their faces for her women, but found no sign of Sette, and no trace of Miquela.
Until she reached the edge of the woods, the uneven terrain threatening to knock her off her stilettos if she didn’t yank them off and run barefoot through the grass.
“…So we have an agreement, right?” That sounded like Miquela.
June spun around. Sure enough, the tall European stood in front of a large evergreen tree, her hand tenuously on Sette’s shoulder.
The other woman stood straight with her arms crossed defensively.
I know that look by now . Miquela probably thought Sette was following along, but June knew that was nothing but great amusement, as if Miquela were trying to explain best medical practices to her.
“You’ve lost. No hard feelings, right? I’ll buy you a drink sometime. ”
At least they weren’t fighting…
“Miquela! Sette!” They both turned. Miquela yanked her hand off Sette’s shoulder. “What are you two doing? Look, Miquela… I am sorry. That was grossly inappropriate of me.”
“No hard feelings.” She pulled out one hand to extend. “We were having a womanly heart-to-heart.” Sette frowned, staring at the imaginary line between Miquela’s hand and June’s. She did not take the bait. Instead, she looked to Sette, who gained some life in her eyes.
“She was telling me the most interesting thing,” Sette began. “Apparently, her final bid has been accepted above mine. Did you know this?”
June turned her gaze to a ladybug by her bare foot. “I did. I’m sorry. I should have told you, but I was waiting.”
“How about that?” Sette held out her hand to Miquela for a shake. “The richest woman won, I suppose. Congratulations. We both know she’ll make you happy.”
“Yes, I suppose we do.” Miquela gave Sette a firm handshake.
Something is making me uneasy about this…
“Don’t worry. I’ll try not to crowd you out on your regular schedule with her.
I hear you have Sundays, though. You might want to reschedule that because I intend on flying her all over the world on weekends. ”
June saw it happen before Sette even raised her other hand, but she was too slow to stop it. All she could do was shout in horror as her tender artist slammed her fist into Miquela’s face.
The people wanted a fistfight? They damn well got one, complete with the commentary of a frantic June dancing around them, screaming at them to come to their senses and stop acting like lesbian Neanderthals.
Neither of them was listening.
What the fuck made them so damn territorial? So fucking possessive? Was it some bullshit evolutionary theory that they had to have total control over someone? Because we all know how important that is! Or were they living, walking dipshits sent to drive June insane?
In a perfect world, June Kingsley, professional courtesan, would have walked away from these lunatics and let the police straighten them out.
What was it to her? It was in her best interest to keep Miquela happy since she was going to be her patron.
Yet watching Sette land that blow made June feel more than strange or anxious…
it made her realize that nothing was scaring her more than watching the two women she cared about most fighting – fighting! – over her.
She didn’t feel honored. She wasn’t flattered. She was sick to her heart and stomach.
“Stop it!” June shrieked, tears of panic streaming down her face as one woman went at the other with all the rage fueling her body. “What are you doing? Stop acting like idiots!”
In truth, perhaps only a few seconds had gone by, but it felt like an awful eternity full of watching two opposing sides wage war over a precious commodity.
Before, June had no issue calling herself a commodity for sale to the highest bidder – although she retained the right to reject that bidder.
Now it felt… well, this was what could happen if she wasn’t careful. This was what Monique warned her about!
June shoved herself between them, one hand smacking Sette on the face and the other shoving Miquela back as hard as she could. All three of them tumbled to the ground in a flurry of fine cloth and flashing jewels. One of the rubies in June’s keyhole disappeared into the grass.
“You stupid assholes,” she grunted, heaving herself up on her grass-stained arms. “Are you fucking five or from the Stone Age or both?”
Neither of them said anything. Miquela, propped up on one arm, rubbed her jaw. Sette panted as if that was the most amount of energy she had ever expended.
“For fuck’s sake!” June was up, wobbling on a rolled ankle but refusing to go back down. “What are you doing talking to one of my clients like that?” That was sent to Miquela. “What are you doing, punching out one of my clients?” That went to Sette. Still, neither woman responded.
Sette eventually shoved herself up with a heavy grunt. “Kindly tell your smug patron that she doesn’t have to rub it in.”
“Tell your artist friend here that she doesn’t have to be such a sore loser.”
“That’s it.” June picked up both of her shoes and tossed them at the women.
“You’re both insufferable, masochistic shitheads who are a bigger pain in my ass than a lamp-sized butt plug!
The only shitty thing about my job is having to deal with immature snots like you girls!
Yeah, that’s right.” She glared at them both, head whipping around so quickly that her hair had no idea where to go.
“ Girls . Don’t care if you’re both older than me.
You’re a pair of little girls, and it’s a wonder y’all’s brains are developed! ”
“June, I…”
“It was…”
“No.” By now, more than one person from the smoking corner was looking at them.
If they had missed the punch-out, they were making up for it now.
“I don’t care what you say regarding your feelings for me.
If you both loved me as much as you claim, you wouldn’t treat each other like this.
Because you’d know how it affects me.” Her throat started to hurt.
She didn’t care. “Acting like this isn’t making fools of yourselves.
You’re outright disrespecting me, and I do not tolerate that! ”
They both looked up at her as if she had grown a second head.
“Furthermore…” Her voice lowered. “Neither one of you is better than the other. Neither one of you treats me better than the other. I’m happy with you both!
Don’t you get it? I don’t care what you assholes say.
No matter what, I would never be happy with just one person!
Why do you think I do my job so well? My brain and body don’t think like that.
There isn’t a single wretch in this world who could make me happy by themselves, no matter how noble they think they are…
” She glared at Sette. “…Or how good they fuck.” The glare shifted to Miquela.
“There’s no such thing as the perfect lover.
Even if there was, neither of you would be it! ”
She stepped away. Neither Miquela nor Sette reacted.
“Finally…” June turned, torn apart, and tired.
“I love you both, in different ways… but I love you both. Either deal with it or get out of my life. I’m not a prize to be won in some pissing match.
I am a human being who deserves your respect and understanding.
It’s a business contract! You’re both rich businesswomen! Act like you know what that means!”
Sette crossed her legs and leaned her hands against them, head bowed. Miquela pretended that something was fascinating in the woods. June wanted to smack them both again.
“I’m leaving. If I ever find out about you two fighting like this again, I will permanently eject you both from my life.
There isn’t enough money in the world to deal with that bullshit.
I may love you stupid fucks, but I’ve lived and made my way without you before, and I can do it again.
Don’t contact me unless it’s for business, and realize that I will only agree to see you if you’re acting like a civilized woman who can think rationally and treat me like I deserve to be treated.
You do me no honor by behaving like children . ”
June made good on her word and left the wedding, shoes slipped back on her feet.
All she told Monique before she left, with leaves and dirt in her hair, was that something had come up and she and Miquela would be leaving separately.
To her credit, Monique did not question what was going on. I’m sure she’ll find out later.
Taxis milled around the event. June found the first one that wasn’t paid to wait for a guest and got the hell out of there.
She didn’t go straight back to the Manoir, though.
Instead, she hit up a hotel downtown and rented a room for the night.
Not before going down to the bar to drink herself into a stupor, though.