“Mademoiselle Tedd!” a woman calls, mispronouncing her name, but she lets it slide, hoping it was merely the accent. Monica loo6k over to see the woman with the dead cat on her head, although as she approaches, she thinks it’s faux fur. Either that, or a badly stuffed mongoose. “What a delightful set!” “Mille merci,” Monica replies, dipping her chin deferentially. After all, suckingup is part of the job. “I am glad you enjoyed it.” She considers asking her name, maybe taking the chance to correct her on her own, but it feels like she was already supposed to know who she was. “That first piece? Tres magnifique,” Dead Cat Lady says dramatically, kissing her fingertips in a ‘chef’s kiss’ move. “Shame about the last, though. The model . . . like one of your American biscuit tubes. Pop!” She puffs her cheeks out, her eyes wide and her hands making an explosion-type movement. Is she serious? Is she talking about canned biscuits? She cannot be implying that Jeanette is fat, right? Monica me
“Excuse me?” "Jackson, do not play dumb with me. I’m aware of who you are looking for, and of who you are seeing. You haven’t exactly been subtle, gallivanting allover Paris.” To any bystanders out of earshot, it would appear to be a polite, congenial conversation between close co-workers. Not family. Though there’s bloodbetween them, they were not the sort to make public displays of affection. Nor private ones either, actually. Jacqueline smiles wanly, sipping her champagneas she looks at him with shrewd eyes. Jackson mirror her move, taking a drink of his own bubbly and meeting her eyes. “Are you taking a sudden interest in my social life?” Jackson responds lightly. She clucks her tongue. “I’m always interested in who you see, what you are doing, how you feel. But this? One of the designers? It’s inappropriate at the least, bordering on harassment.”“No need to worry. It’s neither, I assure you.” “No need to worry?” she repeats, horrified. “All I do is worry. Whether you are on
As they both stares “Are you serious? You told Jacqueline to keep her nose out of your business? The Jacqueline Corbin?” Monica asks. “Well, when you say it like that . . .” Jackson shrugs casually but grin at theamusement in her voice. “I did manage to stay mum about what her previous warning led to.” The reminder is intentional, a distraction from Jacqueline and from theprocessing Monica is still doing about the show. She taps her chin, teasing him. “I forget . . . what happened after that?” Jackson growls, bringing the phone closer so she can only see his handsome face. “We went on an adventure that ended up with your ass pink, your pussy wet, and both of us exhausted and satisfied.” “Riiiight,” she drawls out. “I do recall there was a little something like that.” She was now provoking him on purpose, reveling in it. “Take your shirt off for me.” The command is full of heat and sex, and he can see Monica catches her breath, enthralled. Before her hands can move to her shirt, she
Monica bites her lip, picking up her panties and holding them high. “These? But what would you use them for?” she asks, faking innocence. Jackson drops his voice, lewdly telling her exactly what he intend. “I’m going tosmell them while I jack off, thinking of you. I’m going to wrap that silk around my cock and use it to stroke myself so I can pretend it’s your silken walls gripping me tightly.”Her breath catches, and then Jackson thinks she was doing what he have asked because it looks like her hand is moving off-screen. Either that, or she has started rubbing herself again. “You too,” she tells him. “I want a memento.” Jackson picks up his undershirt from the coffee table where he discarded it and swipes it over his chest. “I think you have got a new nightgown, Princesse.” He holds it up so she can see. “I will come by in the morning, bring you coffee, and we can exchange gifts.” “I would like that,” Monica says almost shyly. She keeps him on his toes, going from soft and complian
Next to Tobias is Jackson. She tries to keep her eyes moving, not staying locked on him for too long, but she can’t help it. They both had a private breakfast in her apartment yesterday morning, using her bed as a picnic space and then for its intended purpose. And she doesn't mean sleep. So it’s been less than twenty-four hours since she has seen him, but she feels the need to touch him, kiss him, greet him in some way other than standing here acting like she doesn't know his deepest secrets and darkest desires. He was wearing a three-piece black suit with a Wedgewood blue shirt that was open at the neck. Monica also knows that he has one extra button closed because there are fingernail scratches on his chest and a tiny bite mark on his shoulder again. She doesn't have any bruises from yesterday, but let’s say she won’t be sitting down too much today. She smiles politely, making sure the friendliness extends down the entire line of the entourage..“We have something exciting to presen
Somehow, though completely different, they all shine in their own ways. “You too,” Molly snaps back. “Do a little spin and show Momma what you were working with.” She twirls a finger in the air, and smiling, she does a model-like turn to show her the back of her gown. “Ka-chow!” she says, flashing finger guns at her. “You are the McQueen, Lightning!” Monica totally gets her play on words, but the others look a little confused.“Champagne?” Tobias asks, stopping a waiter and handing each of them a flute. “As Jacqueline mentioned, an event like this can make your career.” Monica nods, sipping her champagne as she takes in the rest of the room. There are about a dozen rows of gilded gold chairs set before a podium. Flanking the podium are about two dozen or so mannequins, each of them clad in a gorgeous gown of some kind or another.Monica can recognize a few of the designs—they seem to stretch back over the past decade or so, all of them House Corbin designs. “Is Madame Jacqueline clean
“But it doesn’t have to be this way. The great British actor, Charlie Chaplin, in his wonderful film, The Great Dictator, said, ‘We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other’s happiness—not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone. And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone.’ And it is true. So I come before you tonight because I believe in my heart that there is goodness within our collective hearts. That we can make a difference, each and every one of us. That while we might not be able to change the world overnight, we can do something tonight in the lives of the children of the Sun Orphanage.” Jackson clears his throat. “I’m a simple man, one of business, not creativefanciful dreams, but I can imagine a world where there are no hungry children. A world where . . . where the cruelties of fate doesn’t mean that a child has to grow up without hope. Where
Jacqueline takes the podium, nearly hipping the newscaster-slash-.auctioneer out of the way. She makes quick comments that don’t need translation to tell her that they are a thank you for everyone for coming, and makesure you pay up if you won. Afterward, Tobias escorts their group out of the ballroom to the garden area to mingle, telling them, “I would be honored to introduce you around if you would like, or if you would prefer, you’re free to do so on your own.” They look at each other, and slowly, everyone else wanders off, leaving only her and Tobias. “Shall we?” he asks, offering her his elbow. Monica slips her arm through his, glad for the company.“Monica, meet Herr Schlieter,” Tobias says as she shakes hands with an older German man, and then his date, who Tobias doesn’t introduce, making her curious. “He’s the Chief Legal Officer for one of Germany’s biggest department store chains.” “Ah, ah, Herr Tobias,” Schlieter says good-naturedly, but at the same time correcting him,