Page 29 of Her Patron
“I’m not drunk enough for this yet.” Sette sat next to her friend in the audience, gathered that day in a big, beautiful garden behind Etta Coleman’s petite mansion in the hills. How hundreds of guests had managed to be crowded together in this otherwise tiny venue remained a mystery to everyone but the wedding planner, a conspicuous woman in black and a microphone wrapped around her head. “Have any bottles of tequila in your pocket?”
Zara patted her friend on the shoulder. “You missed the open bar. Told you to go check it out… but you refused.”
Sette saw the definition of an open bar in the room cordoned off for guests who arrived early and couldn’t yet be seated. Champagne, wine, and sparkling cider were all offered, but none of those things were strong enough to help Sette deal with a wedding.
A wedding where the love of her life showed up on the arm of another woman.
June and Miquela were fashionably late to the wedding of a woman neither knew well. Miquela looked her usual gorgeous, devil-may-care European self in a suit, but it was June who made Sette nearly lose her mind.
Her bright red dress hugged her hips… and a lot of other things too. A thick collar turned into a sporty keyhole halter that framed her breasts and wrapped tightly around her abdomen. In the middle of the keyhole was a flurry of stuck-on rubies that made her light skin twinkle with every slight turn. It was sexual without vulgarity. Beautiful. Flirty. Tasteful. 1000% June and tailored to her voluptuous body. Her hair was let loose in strawberry blond waves that fell on top of her shoulders and down her back. The way she clung to Miquela’s arm so she could walk in red stilettos was soft and demure.
It waskillingSette. Both of them.Why does she have to be so gorgeous?She meant Miquela, too, since the woman was thepinnacle of classically debonair, and despite not being into more masculine-presenting women, Sette clearly saw the attraction.Also, I’ve slept with her. I know how hot she is.She puffed out her cheeks and focused on June, who was the definition of Sette’s “type,” with overtly feminine airs, grabbable curves, and coy, coquettish flirtations with every movement.She should be my date…
Their eyes caught for a brief second as they meandered down the walkway in search of a suitable place to sit. June sat on the end, flashing Sette a warm smile before turning her attention to the person who said hello in front of her.
“Stop looking at her,” Zara said. “Pay attention to the bride, not your mistress.”
Good thing those two were sitting a couple of rows back. It made it easier for Sette to stare ahead and occasionally pretend that Zara had something interesting to say.
Guests continued to file in one or two at a time until every seat in the audience was taken, and some had to find places to stand before the ushers brought in extra chairs. The procession was not like most weddings. While a live four-man orchestra played music on the ground, a catwalk had been built surrounding the garden. The bride and her party would not be walking through the crowds today. Instead, Etta Coleman’s bride appeared on a balcony overhead, arms laced with a khaki-casual man who looked like her father. They traced the circumference of the garden up on the catwalk, her flowing skirt trailing behind her until she stood right above Sette.This is crazy even for a woman like Etta.She was one of the richest women in the area. If her bride wanted to float in the air, she damn well would.
The whole ceremony took place on another balcony, with microphones projecting the vows. Sette glanced over her shoulder and saw June rubbing the length of Miquela’s leg. Yes, the wedding was much more interesting today.
The happy couple were pronounced and retreated into the house. The crowd, who had stood to clap and offer whistles of congratulations, took cues from the ushers to see themselves out and toward the many shuttles waiting to whisk them away to the reception.
“I said stop looking at them,” Zara chastised, catching her friend in the act again. “You’re going to make yourself sick. Come on. Let’s go to the reception. I’m sure you can get plenty of booze there.”
Sette followed Zara to her car in the front driveway. Other cars were pulling out, while other guests opted to take the shuttle and leave their cars in this high-security lot.
“Remember, I have to drive us home.” Zara followed a stretch limo down the driveway. “So you need to drink for the both of us.”
Chapter 9
Miquela
Nobody was more beautiful at the wedding than June. Not even the bride could compare to the gorgeous allure of the nation’s most charming woman. Everywhere they went, and with everyone they met, June reclaimed the title by sweet-talking and flirting.I can barely keep my hands off her.Miquela did, out of propriety, but it wasn’t easy. June had kept her hand on her leg for the entire ceremony, and now Miquela felt liable to rip off that dress and have her before the happy newlyweds could go off to spend their first night together.
“You’re killing me inside and out,” she muttered into June’s ear as they joined the throng of people milling toward their transportation of choice. The surge of people created a bottleneck from the garden to the front yard. Security personnel directed the traffic. By all accounts, it was a well-run American wedding.Things are different in Europe. The lack of helicopterscoming in and out of the yard was one tip-off. “I hope we can be alone. I have… things to do to you.”
“I’m sure you do.” June wrapped an arm around her, fingers tapping against Miquela’s midsection. “Looking forward to it.”
That’s what a woman wanted to hear. Miquela could wait. Even if they were in the slowest-moving line of the century, she could wait to show June off some more. There was always time. Today, anyway.
I saw… her. She meant Sette, of course. Sitting with Zara on the other side of the walkway and two rows up. Only once did Miquela catch her and June exchanging looks.I will not get jealous. I am a terrific example of manners and poise. Sette kept her words and her hands to herself. She even admirably focused on the wedding, which was something Miquela could not really do.Weddings. She had been to a hundred of them over the past decade.Two people meet. They decide to get married. Here we are.That had been Miquela’s world for most summers and the occasional Christmas season.
She looked at June with more critical eyes. Could Miquela see herself being the one she married one day? That’s how she used to look at Rosa. A woman meant for marriage.Whether or not she marries the right one… who knows. June, however, was not the type of woman people looked at and said,“Yup, she’s getting married one day!”Not unless she was the gold-digging type. Naturally, this was not a dig at the woman Miquela loved. Quite the opposite. She was pleased with June’s independent nature and need to be in control of her own destiny. Too often, Miquela dated women who wanted everything handed to them, whether it was money or service. June worked hard for her money – Miquela would know, as she had handed her thousands upon thousands of dollars by now.
“How did you like the wedding?” They were almost to the front of the bottleneck, but it was still slow-moving. “Thebride’s dress was stunning. It looked Italian.” Miquela tolerated weddings if three things were involved: an unconventional ceremony (check), lots of alcohol (that was coming up), and a dress that stopped the show and was flattering on the woman wearing it. Etta’s bride, Miss Jamie, had worn a princess bridal gown handstitched with golden appliques. While Miquela didn’t recognize the designer, she did recognize it as being decidedlyItalian. It helped that she also knew Etta Coleman had a huge fondness for the country.
“It was nice.” June remained pleasant. “Weddings aren’t really my thing. Receptions, on the other hand… those can be a lot of fun.” Her hand grazed Miquela’s ass.
“You’re a naughty one.”
“Says the woman implying she wants to do things to me at this wedding.”
“I said later.”
They exchanged coy looks. June curled her arm around Miquela’s and kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you asked me to the wedding. Then again, you don’t know anyone here, do you?”
