Page 13 of Her Patron
It got worse.
Chapter 3
Miquela
“How the fuck did I get papped in Monaco!” Miquela shouted on the phone. She didn’t often call her Swiss publicist, but when she did, she oftenscreamed. “That’s the one place on Earth besides the inner sanctum of the Vatican where I can’t get papped!”
“Ms. Bolivar, I assure you that this is being handled…”
The little rat bastard with his Swiss German accent could go fuck himself.
“They didn’t get me on the public streets! They got pictures of me in my home!” They were some of the most flattering sex pics in the universe, but Miquela had not expected to get home after an afternoon at the marina to see a dozen pictures of her pixelated strap-on slamming against June’s equally pixelated pussy. Not only were paparazzi a taboo occurrence in her homeland, but… oh,fuckingtechnology! That was the answer, wasn’t it?
The publicist confirmed. “The street pics are one matter, but unfortunately, I’m not surprised about your home photos. Your room overlooks the marina, ma’am. All it takes is one well-equipped paparazzi out on a boat scouting for some hot action with a high-resolution telescope. We’ve been having a rash of these problems all over the Mediterranean. Not just Monaco. France, Spain… Italy and Greece, too. You’re in good company right now, Ms. Bolivar. Be grateful that you don’t have an image shattered like some of my clients right now.”
“The world may not care that a woman like me is getting some action, but I care about privacy, and not just my own!”
“As far as we can tell, no one has discovered the identity of your date. She’s either turned away or too covered up in most of the pics.”
“Damn hell she is!”
“However, there is something you should know…”
Miquela had been so caught up in the pictures that would probably turn up on porn sites –not that June was a stranger to that, apparently – that she never saw her appearance in another single set of much,muchtamer photos taken a few days before she got on a plane with Miquela.
When Miquela went out with Sette, she did not think much of her as a potential long-term companion. That wasn’t to say Miquela thoughtnegativethings. On the contrary, Sette seemed like a level-headed woman capable of intelligent conversations and cracking a good joke. She was damn good in bed, too.Surprisingly so. Never pegged that quiet femme as a top.That didn’t mean Sette was the queen of hearts or anything. She seemed the type to have a sensible girlfriend or wife waiting for her at home. More of a good mother or business partner before an ideal lover. Hey, Miquela didn’t have anything against such types… but this was a whole other matter!
“I’m going to kill her,” Miquela muttered, before realizing what a stupid thing that was to think. What right did she have? Sette was playing by the same set of rules that Miquela had to adhere to. Being the other woman in her battle for June? Preposterous! How much money did that woman have to keep bidding up, up, up? She was an artist. A retired doctor, but an art—
The painting in June’s room. The one she said was a gift from her other potential patron.
That wasSette?
Miquela tossed her tablet onto a leather couch and yanked her phone out of her pocket. “Aimee!” The girl chirped on the other end of the line. Startled? Probably. She needed to get her ass in gear, unlike ever before. “Whatever you’re doing right now, drop it. I need you to do a background check for me.”
She stuttered in French before remembering to switch to English. “Yes, ma’am? Anything you need…”
“I need you to dig into a woman named Dr. Sette Christie. Find out everything about her. I want to know her grandmother’s maiden name and what she eats for breakfast. Don’t leave anything out of your report. I want it by midnight tonight. Do you understand me?”
“I will do my best, Madame!”
Miquela turned off her phone. She didn’t know why she was so angry, so jealous. Sure, she loved June… and she didn’t need her to be anything more than her beautiful girlfriend whom she saw when most convenient… she knew June had a living to make otherwise… but… but…
She went to her large living room window overlooking the river. Was there a fucking pap out there right now, canvasing her property in the hopes of spotting her with Mystery Woman again? Miquela would give them something to take a picture of.
Her middle finger slammed against the window. Maturity went out the window when the woman she loved was involved.
Miquela did not get her report that night. She got it the next afternoon instead, when she was pacing in an office full of stuffy investors wanting to talk about casinos, not what she did with her pussy in her spare time. Good thing those types often had sexual skeletons in their closets, too. It wasn’t like Miquela was known for a good-girl image in her personal life…
Regardless, she couldn’t look at Aimee’s report until later that evening, when she was alone in her apartment with a bottle of Jack. She didn’t need dinner. She needed a new liver.
This woman? Seriously?
Sette Christie had a great medical pedigree and a former practice that was nothing to make fun of, but she was far from perfect patron material. For one thing, there were lots of reports that she was conservative with her money. The woman hadn’t even bought a house big enough to stuff with all her paintings! Even in Monaco, Miquela could find a penthouse good enough for showcasing half the world’s greatest art. What was this woman doing, still living in some rundown townhouse barely good enough for a new millionaire who had a taste for antiques?
Did June think this woman was hot?
Miquela knew first-hand that Sette was lovely and kept herself up well. Yet the only way she would stand out in a room was if she stood up straight and lost the perpetual frown. Miquela knew all about making an impression on a group, and that meant oozing charisma.Herkind of charisma. Sette was… well, Sette! She was there! She was pretty! Feminine! Dark hair andgood skin! Quiet and unassuming, but one really didn’t get to know her charm until…
