“Of course I am. What, do you think I’m that shitty of a bitter, jealous friend? Nah, I’ll keep telling you that you’re making a huge mistake. I’ll be first in line at your show, though. Wow me enough, and I’ll even buy a painting from you!”
“Whoa, slow down, hustler. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Tell me the truth, though,” Zara said. “You’re not falling for this woman, are you?”
Sette had to get serious, too. “I try not to think about it. Taking one thing at a time.”
“All right. I’ll leave you alone about it.”
Their food came, giving them a respite from this old conversation. While the waitress put down their food – and Zara not so covertly checked out her ass – Sette thought about her feelings for June; however, they could be classified.I feel like I would do anything for her. Throw money at her. Tell her she was beautiful. Paint her until death. Give her a shoulder to cry on, not that she knew what June would be crying about. Drive her halfway across the world so she could see an old friend shehadn’t spoken to in years. Whatever she wanted, Sette would give it to her.
Wasn’t that a form of love?
Sette dove into her clam chowder and salad.Zara’s right. I’m doomed. Still, she blustered through her day with a smile on her face. Nothing could take away her happiness right now.
Later that night, she sat in her studio, finishing up her latest portrait of June – the one of her on the fountain, caught biding her time between clients.
Sette loved this pose. It was natural, relaxed, beautiful. June appeared in her element while also sharing an intimate moment with the viewer. It also wasn’t sexual, which was a nice change of pace from the other, more explicit portraits.
I’m keeping this one. Sette decided that as she added a blend of brown to June’s golden hair. Maybe she would display it in a gallery, but no amount anyone offered would be enough to make her part with it. It represented more than a moment they shared in that hedge maze. It represented the beauty Sette saw within June. Intimacy unmatched.
Once finished, Sette sat back and viewed it in context with the other completed paintings. A dozen Junes gazed at her, some of them with come-hither eyes, others with nothing but humor, yet even more begging her to think of no one but her.Accomplished. June was more than a muse now. Sette was her love. She supposed every artist had to have that muse who was also a great love. Not that it ever ended well for those other fools. Sette was in good company, then.
She spun around on her stool and looked out the darkened window. Enough lights were on overhead that the paintings reflected in the glass before her. Sette was surrounded.
For a split second, she realized her folly.
Then, like the true fool she was, she crushed it down, deep,deepinto her stomach where it wouldn’t have to be acknowledged. All she cared about was breathing in her careless emotions.
Sette pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted Joy.“My collection is called The Consummate Courtesan.”It was perfect. Artistic, poetic, classy… and true. June was consummate. A tender specimen who put others before her own needs, even if those others servedherneeds. A beautiful, darling woman who made everyone around her comfortable, even if they didn’t agree with her lifestyle.
The next time Sette saw her, she was going to worship the ground June walked on. She would prove that there was no other who could make her as happy. Sette walked into a real courtship.Yes. Yes, it was a courtship. Eventually, her graceful courtesan would become the only woman who mattered in her world. Sette’s heart beat erratically to think it.
I’m a stupid bitch in love. She shoved her phone back in her pocket after receiving Joy’s confirmation.And I don’t care.
Chapter 5
Miquela
“Allow me to introduce you to Serene, my… date… for the evening.”
Miquela could hardly believe her eyes. Here she was, at the damned opera with an old American friend named Clivia Nielson, and one of her favorite women was making eyes at her.
“Pleased to… see you, Serene.” Miquela wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t know the West Coast beauty. With skin glowing in a healthy tan, eyes shrouded in hazel contacts, and bleached-blond hair pulled back into a sporty ponytail, Serene was the picture of Californian vivacity.She’s also available for a nominal fee.Either there or Vegas. Miquela had paid for her services in both cities before. She was even in a little black book of pros!This is hilarious. Even more hilarious when Serene went from stroking Clivia’s arms to smiling at Miquela.
There was a reason she liked her so much.
“Pleasure to see you again, Ms. Bolivar.” Serene didn’t mess around.
Clivia glanced between her date and friend. “I see you two know each other.” She sighed. “I should have guessed, knowing you, Miquela. Where’s your date?”
“Don’t have one, I’m afraid. I’m still new in town, you know. Give me some time to find a woman who isn’t my assistant to bring to these things.” She tried not to think about June.Would she like the opera? I should ask. As soon as Miquela became her patron, she was taking her everywhere.I would love her to be on my arm. Whether meeting a friend for an artistic evening or going to a business dinner, June could blend in seamlessly. It wasn’t her job. It was her nature, and Miquela could respect the hell out of that.
So much for not thinking about her.
They had their own balcony for that night’s show,Carmen. A show Miquela had seen a hundred times, given its popularity in both Spain and France.Never seen Americans take it on, though.Tonight’s cast was predominantly Latin, making the Spanish lyrics roll easily off the tongue and the chemistry between Don Jose and Señorita Carmen sizzling. In true American fashion, however, the sexuality was ramped up about 100,000 degrees.Fahrenheit, of course.Halfway through the show, the delightful actress playing Carmen sang both her fantastic song and danced as if her body were on fire.
Clivia excused herself to get a drink during intermission. The moment she left, Serene hopped up from her chair and sat in her date’s, right next to Miquela.
