7. June
June
J une 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, and dressing 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 Miquela foisted 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…”
Now what?
“I want to give you time to think this over, anyway.”
“What is there to think about? I’m queen of the world! Miquela is offering way more than Sette! Why wouldn’t we give the winnings to her?” June gestured to herself. “Me! I’m the winnings!”
Still no change. I hate her sometimes. Monique was the best at her job for a reason.
June needed to learn more from her before one day running her own pleasure house for a reason.
Nobody could compete with Monique Warner’s poker face.
Whatever she was thinking… June would not know unless Monique decided to share.
She could be lying . It was not beneath Monique to lie when she thought it pertinent, but she would damn well make June think it was the truth!
“I don’t think either Dr. Christie nor Ms. Bolivar thinks of you as ‘winnings,’ June.”
She slapped her hand against the back of the couch.
“What are you talking about? Of course they do. They’re rich, and they think with their pride.
If there’s one thing this business has taught me, it’s that I will be a body first and foremost. That’s fine.
I’ve got it, so I’ll freely use it if I want!
If some European playgirl wants to throw a fifth of a mil to fuck me whenever she desires, then I’ll damn well let her!
Who the hell are you to get in the way of that? ”
They stared each other down. June knew she had crossed a line, but her honor prevented her from immediately apologizing. She could be impertinent like that.
She could also be really, really defensive, even if she didn’t know why.
“I’m your boss,” Monique coolly said. “And your friend. Or at least I like to think so.”
“Then shouldn’t you be celebrating with me? My pussy made you bank. You can hire all the extra girls you want now with my cunt going into overdrive milking that woman’s… wallet.”
“I sure can, but is it worth the fallout between you and these two?”
“What are you talking about? Sette needs me to be her muse before anything else.”
The facade surrounding Monique finally wore away.
She bit her lip, furrowed her brows, and plainly said, “They’re both in love with you.
I don’t mean infatuated with the idea of you and in lust with your body until they find someone new.
I mean, those two ladies are both fantasizing about marrying you. ”
“What are you talking about?” June flung herself against the couch, the energy transference jostling Monique where she sat.
“Miquela is a playgirl who fucks anything that turns her on, and Sette is… well, she’s Sette.
She’d rather lock herself up in her studio than ever deal with a wife.
She saw enough of that shit in her old practice. ”
“If you can’t at least see that Dr. Christie wants you more than she wants her own life, then you are seriously delusional.”
“Fine.” Back me into a corner, why don’t you? “Whatever you say.”
Monique was quick to fire back, “They’ve both said they love you, haven’t they?”
“What if they have? They’re not the first.”
“Don’t make me say it, June.”
“Say what? Go on. I’d love to know what you think. You’re offering your opinions for free, anyway.” Don’t you dare say it…
“You love them both, too.”
“You. Are full. Of shit.” June stormed across her room.
Not that she knew where the hell she was going.
She was trapped in her den of flesh and sin with the one woman who knew her better than anyone else.
“I don’t love anyone, let alone them. They’re clients.
Full stop. My job is to make them think I love them so they pay me more money. See? It works.”
Monique slowly folded up her paper, head bent. “Starting today,” she said, “You are to serve no clients but Dr. Christie and Ms. Bolivar.”
The room turned so still that June thought she had died.
“What?”
“You heard me.” Monique’s voice remained soft even after June’s outburst. “Until the wedding. At the wedding, I will inform Ms. Bolivar of her good fortune, if you want.”
“Of course it’s what I want.” June couldn’t let go of the other thing.
“I want the woman with the most money.” A lump formed in her throat.
What was wrong with her? Was she getting emotional over this shit?
“No clients for two weeks? Am I on some sort of probation?” She turned toward Monique again.
“Don’t you know I need the money?” Her parents’ debt wasn’t going to pay for itself.
“I said no services. You can still entertain. Just no sex of any kind.”
“Why?”
“Because you need to distance yourself from this job!”
When the woman finally snapped, she damn well snapped.
That baby has no idea what it’s in for .
Even June shuddered, feeling like a puppy crawling into the corner with its tail tucked between its legs.
“I don’t understand. Why are you punishing me?
Didn’t I do a good job? This is what we both wanted… ”
“It’s what we wanted, but it’s not what we need.
The two can conflate sometimes.” Monique forced herself up, hands bracing against the back of the couch as she steadied herself.
One hand darted to her stomach. “You have been presented with an amicable opportunity. These women could change your life in more ways than one! I would be so stupid to simply take the money and not point out that this could be so good for you personally .”
“I…”
“For fuck’s sake, June, you’re over thirty years old!” Monique’s knuckles turned white against the couch. Was she sweating? Was she even okay? Oh, my God. Don’t you dare have a fucking baby on me! “Do you think you can keep doing this forever?”
June wiped tears away from her cheeks. Stop crying, dumbass. “Plenty of lesser women do this until they’re too old to screw in a light bulb, let alone some client. At least, they can be Dommes. Besides…” June snorted. “You know I want to be where you are someday.”
“Yes. Plus, you won’t make it far in this business if you don’t understand the body and the heart.
I wasn’t married when I opened this place, but I had been in love for a long time.
I knew what it’s like. Now I’m happily married, having the most ungrateful baby to ever gestate, and I wouldn’t change any of it if you handed me a billion dollars of my own money and said I wouldn’t have to work another day of my life.
I love this job as much as you do. I also know that if you keep going on this path, it will eat you alive.
Maybe you don’t mind the physical stuff, but one day you’ll wake up at forty-five, fifty-five, sixty-five and wonder what’s missing. ”
“What are you saying? That I should throw away my career for one of these women?”
“I’m not telling you to do anything but think. You’ll still make plenty of money until the wedding. I need you at next weekend’s bachelor party, after all.”
“Yeah, you’re a bitch. There are going to be two dozen of the richest bastards in the world at that party, and you expect me not to work any of them?”
“I’m not the bitch here. Perspective is.
” Monique shook her head. “You think I didn’t know about all the freebies you gave Sette?
” Whoa, did she call Sette by her first name?
“Or all those heart-to-hearts you had with Miquela? You love those women as much as they love you. Again, I’m not telling you to do anything other than have a good think about what your plans are.
You’re right when you say that your biggest asset is your body in this business, but you’re getting older.
Your beauty will fade, and your skills won’t be able to make up for it.
You might have another decade in this gig if you stay right where you are.
You think any of these other girls are going to be here this long?
They’ll fly this coop as soon as they’ve made their small fortunes or decide to get married.
You’re the only one here who has made it their life.
That’s not a bad thing, June, but… you need to be realistic about it.
You have the brains and personality to take over this place one day or run your own location.
I respect you as an employee and love you as a friend.
Please, think about it. You can make whatever decision you want, but give it two weeks. ”
“Two weeks of not making any money…”
“If it bothers you that much, you can double your commission until then. There. Does that make up for it?”
They both knew it wasn’t about the money. It was about the power yanked from June’s grasp. No limitation had been put on her like this before… her brain told her it was ridiculous, fucked up, and so totally not fair.
Her heart heaved a sigh of relief.