6. Miquela
Miquela
“ I sent her measurements over,” Miquela said into her phone while enjoying her view of the marina. “If you dress her in red, I will be a very happy woman. Not pink. Red.”
“Yes, Ms. Bolivar.” The woman on the other end paused while she copied down this information. “Any backup colors you would like us to consider?”
“Hmm. Black?”
“Certainly. But, if I may suggest, if you aim to attract eyes in a place where everyone who is anyone is dressing up, you might want a brighter color.”
“Right. Purple could be good. Maybe a light blue. Otherwise, I will leave it up to you. She has blond hair and a fair complexion. I’m looking forward to how you dress her up for me.”
She hung up. Ever since it was confirmed that she could take June to the wedding of the year, she thought of nothing but the right dress.
It was too late for a custom outfit, but she had the number of the best personal stylist in New York.
The stylist and her team would work out with the Manoir when to come by with their wares and decide what was best for a sexy woman like June.
Miquela didn’t need details. She wanted to be wowed the moment she saw her.
She wanted everyone else at the wedding to be wowed as well.
It was only right that her date be one of the most eye-catching there. Not only was she a woman who needed to meet prospective business connections, but she also liked to show off the women she loved. Rosa loved every minute I spent showing her off .
Miquela pocketed her phone and resumed her work. There were documents to go over and calls to return. With any luck, she would be emailing her father prospective plots of land to build their first American casino on.
“Monsieur!” rang Aimee’s anxious tone. “ Un gros probléme! ” She skidded into the office, feet sliding across the hardwoods as her face turned sheet white. “ C’est ta soeur !”
“What?” Miquela, who loomed over her desk, looked up with as much disbelief as she could manage. “You’re joking, right?”
From the way Aimee shook her head, she certainly wasn’t.
And from that voice bowling through the office door… oh, shit.
“ Hermana! ” There was nothing cheery about that fake happy-to-see-you tone. Miquela would have turned white like her assistant, but that wasn’t acceptable in this current situation.
No. She would have to be the most calm, the most collected asshole to ever grace the name Bolivar… of the Valencia Bolivars, anyway.
“Be right there!” she shouted, praying that her unexpected guest would not enter her office without permission. She would, too. “Give me a damn second!”
When she opened the office door, she found Dolores standing in front of the large windows of the living room, that critical demeanor picking apart everything grotesque and immature about the American cityscape before her.
Dolores hates America . She’d only be here unannounced if it were an emergency.
The Queen Regent of Western European Snobbery would otherwise never deign to cross the pond. She barely tolerated England.
“Dearest sister!” she called in her accented English before switching to Spanish. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your busy work. I know how much effort you put into fucking your assistants.”
It was a good thing Aimee was not fluent in Spanish. She knew enough to understand Miquela’s half-asleep scrawls at two in the morning, but not enough to understand what Dolores was saying, no matter how sweet and saccharin-coated she tried to make her accusation.
“That’s unnecessary.” At least Miquela could drop the veneer of familial love. Dolores wanted to go straight for her jugular? She could handle it, but she wouldn’t pretend to like it. “Why the hell are you here? Come to check up on me?”
Dolores gave Aimee a thorough once-over as the assistant excused herself from Miquela’s apartment. “Let me guess. French? I know how much you love your French putas .”
“ Déjalo ,” Miquela warned her. “I am not sleeping with my assistant. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Good, because I do know who you are sleeping with, and it would be quite uncouth if Mama and Papa found out you were two-timing some slimy prostitute.”
Miquela loosened the cuffs on her shirt. It was the only way to keep from losing her shit. “So, I take it you saw the pictures. Is that why you’re here? You could’ve yelled at me on the phone. For, you know, daring to have a personal life. Not like I called those nasty paps.”
“Miquelita,” she thought she was so cute when she used their mother’s nickname for her, “I don’t give Queen Isabel’s left tit who you’re playing with. As long as she’s a semi-decent girl, anyway. Trust me. I did some digging on your sweet Junie.”
“June.”
“Whatever.” Dolores slapped her purse against Miquela’s couch and removed her travel gloves one long finger at a time. “Point is, my private investigator turned up more than your disgusting photos. You know what else he found? Go on, guess.”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“I don’t even want to say it. Videos, pictures, all sorts of sordid shit that would make our dear mother faint to even acknowledge. Most of your sluts have dirty pasts that landed them in front of a video camera or two. What he found out about her life today was much worse.”
“Cut to the chase, Dolores.”
“Like I said.” Her tone turned curt. “She’s a slimy prostitute.”
Miquela somehow managed not to react. Trust me, I would love to give her a few choice words right now . She had long learned to leave things be in that regard. People like her sister lived for getting a rise out of her.
“You’re not even going to deny it?”
“Is there a point?”
Dolores almost looked disappointed. “I should’ve figured. A woman that relaxed around so much wealth either had to come from it or be a high-priced escort. It was made quite clear she was not the former when we met her.”
“Congratulations, you’ve cracked the code. I’m assuming you haven’t told anyone.”
“Why would I?” Her upper lip curled. “As soon as I found out, though, I hopped on my husband’s plane here. Told everyone I was coming to check in and acted as if you knew about it. Really, though, I wanted to see if you would deny dating a hooker.”
“Do you feel better about yourself, saying these things?” Like Miquela needed her to answer that. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business. If I had anything to do with those photos, I would apologize… but I didn’t, so all you did was fly out here to rub it in my face.”
“True. I also came out here to give you a warning, hermana .” Dolores draped her gloves over the back of the couch.
Did she think she was staying a while? Either find a hotel or get back on your plane…
my guest room does not have your name on it .
“Normally, I wouldn’t go to these measures, but you said that woman was your girlfriend…
and both Maria and I agreed that you were smitten with her. ”
Miquela didn’t deny that, either.
“Your image problems are your own to deal with, although you really should think of your poor youngest sister, who is in pursuit of her own suitor right now. Think of Mama’s heart, too. It’s not so good anymore, you know.”
“What is the point?”
“The point, Miquela, is that you can’t be serious about such a tramp being your girlfriend. First of all, she’s playing you. You think she really cares about you? She’s after your money. That’s all she thinks about. Everything she does is about setting herself up for life.”
Miquela cocked an eyebrow. “Sounds familiar. By the way, how’s Pierre’s billions?”
“You leave my well-respected husband out of this.”
“I’m just saying, Lola…”
She grimaced at that name. “That is different. I’m not saying I begrudge Ms. Kingsley for playing the game well.
She’s clearly good at what she… does…” Dolores cleared her throat.
“You just best pick a woman of proper breeding if you are so insistent on bucking the status quo. My dear sister may play the part of a man with her slick style, but a man she is not .”
“My, you are a real romantic.”
“I’m serious, Miquela!” Ah, there went the fake demeanor. “Don’t you dare fucking sully our family name by getting serious with a prostitute of all people! Not only is it wretched, but…”
“But what?” Miquela was starting to lose her patience… and she had a lot of patience for her sister’s stupid bullshit. This is different. This is about June. The woman she kept demeaning. “Go on. Tell me what ‘this’ is, and why I should feel bad about it.”
“It’s disgusting! Think of your position! Everyone expects you to use women like they’re worthless fucktoys…”
“Excuse you.”
“…But don’t you dare start parading around a hooker like she’s your girlfriend. It’s bad for everyone’s image. If you dare marry her? Papa would disown you. No matter how you do it, Miquela, it’s a disgusting mess. Spare us and cut her loose so the fervor back home can die.”
“Fervor, huh?”
Dolores was fuming now. “You think I’m the only one who saw those photos and did some digging? Mama’s the only one being kept in the dark. Papa has half a mind to hit you in the wallet when you next go back to Monaco!”
“Stop your crowing. It’s not that serious. June is…”
“She’s what, Miquela?”
Miquela would not throw her under the proverbial bus. “Very special to me. It’s true.”
“ Dios mio , you’re not getting married, are you?”
“You would hate that, wouldn’t you?”
“Don’t scare me like that!”
“Fine thing it would be, though.” Finally, something for Miquela to revel in during this confrontation.
“You working half your life to secure such a desirable marriage, and then your wild older sister spreading her legs to every professional woman in the world. Imagine if I were a man, Lolita. How many bastard children do you think I would have now? Cinco? Diez? ”
“Please, don’t even joke about that!”
“Meanwhile, I know you’ve been trying to get knocked up since your honeymoon. How’s that going? I’m even assuming your husband is attracted to you. I saw him canoodling with that best man at your wedding.”
She had asked for it. Dolores marching over to slap her across the face, that is.
That stings . Miquela sucked in her cheeks, but that was her only sign of distress. Dolores coddled her hand while tears of frustration boiled at the corners of her eyes.
“ Te odio ,” she spat.
Ouch . Miquela rarely heard that much vitriol, let alone from Dolores.
“You have no idea what it’s like. You always get to do what you want.
Fuck whomever you want. ‘Spread your legs’ from the Chinese backwoods to that other slut, Rosa.
” She must have enjoyed the frown sprouting on Miquela’s marred visage.
“People still speculate how long she was cheating on you, you know.”
Miquela crumbled inside. “I know, thank you. Are you done now?”
“We are never done. Let me tell you… whether you love the whore or not, cut her loose. We don’t need that trash anywhere near our name. We have… I have worked too hard for this family. You may make us money, but it’s me who brings in the people you make money off of!”
“Yes, with your feminine wiles and charms. So friendly. So gracious. My sweet sister.”
“Fuck off to hell and die, Miquela.”
“Likewise, Lola.”
Sad thing? They probably didn’t even have the most toxic sibling relationship out of most people they knew.
“If not for me, or Mama and Papa… do it for Maria.” Dolores did not look at her sister, but she kept her voice even.
“She’s like a puppy in a cage with mountain lions.
If we stand any chance at setting her up with a suitable match, let alone one she’ll accept, we have to keep the name Bolivar clean.
People like us are everywhere back home, and she is also a woman.
Men can pass her by and find someone else as wealthy and from a good background to marry them. ”
“You treat yourself like cattle.”
“Because I am cattle! Don’t you see? You were born with everything you could want to live the easiest of all.
You were born first. You spit on femininity.
You were born in a time when arranged marriages were frowned upon, and the expectation existed for you to do whatever you wanted, the golden child.
I came here to make sure you understood that.
If you insist on falling in love with some Cinderella… make sure she’s not a damned hooker.”
“Go home, Lola.”
Dolores grabbed her purse and gloves. She wasn’t halfway to the door before Miquela felt stupid enough to speak.
“It would really explode your ass to know that I love that woman you hate so much because of what she’s done for a living.
I don’t say that lightly, but I’ve let you and the others speak for me about Rosa.
I won’t make that mistake again. I’m sorry I haven’t been more understanding of your situation…
but it would be nice if you understood mine as well. ”
Dolores sniffed and put her hand on the doorknob.
“I lied about your husband and the best man. I’m sure you’ll have a baby soon.”
Miquela hadn’t lied about the husband and the best man. Everyone loved to bar talk about how Mr. Dolores Bolivar was gay. When in Monaco… Miquela always figured it was part of the reason her frigid sister chose the man for her suitable match. Maybe not.
Dolores saw herself out without another word. Miquela tried to go back to work. Tried being the operative word.