Chapter 5
Clipped Wings
“How much is it worth?” Monica tapped her fingers, her favorite appraiser sitting on the other side of her desk and studying the diamonds in the collar. “I need to know if I should sell it or give it to one of my girls.”
The appraiser, aptly named Mr. Jules, looked up with his ocular device still in his eye. He was an old and frail man for only being sixty-five, but he was one of the only qualified men in the city Monica could convince to make house calls. She summoned him every time they received a gift of patronage to confirm what she suspected.
I have no idea what to expect with this. As much as she wished she could be rid of the collar in only a few minutes, she was still a businesswoman and had to keep her coffers in mind. If the collar were worth a nice sum, she could get a better payday. However, if Henry Warren had underestimated her worth, well… she would make sure he returned one night to see another girl wearing that collar. That’s what I think of that. Any of her girls would be delighted to have it. Such a thing meant nothing other than more status to their clients. It would be an excellent way to embarrass Mr. Warren.
Mr. Jules spent another minute staring at one of the diamonds before sitting up with a sigh. He removed his instruments and jotted something down on a pad of paper before clearing his throat and telling Monica what she had been waiting to hear. “This is only my professional guess at the moment, but I would estimate this… piece of finery… to be worth about…”
“Yes?’
“Thirty-thousand dollars.”
‘Thirty…” Monica clapped her mouth shut and summoned the propriety she always needed in these situations. She couldn’t tell Mr. Jules the collar was thus far the most expensive patronage gift anyone there received. She couldn’t tell him that it was worth more than the solid gold collar she had with Jackson. She couldn’t even tell him that it had been for her! While Mr. Jules wasn’t the type of man to go blabbing around town about her business, there were some things men didn’t need to know. “Thank you. You sure that’s a good estimate?”
“In truth, it may be more. I’m assuming all the diamonds have the lowest grade I can confirm. The silver is solid, though. The only thing bringing down the value is the inscription. That’s only if you sold it as is. If you pieced out the diamonds and sold the silver as scrap, you could get a lovely price.”
“Naturally.” That’s what she would do. Not for the better price, but to also… what? Do the professional thing, since Henry’s name was on that? “Thank you for your help. This definitely helps me make some decisions.”
Mr. Jules saw himself out, leaving Monica to sit with her silver collar and chain. Thirty-thousand dollars. She knew Henry was loaded, but most patrons – let alone clients – didn’t drop that much money on a gift for one girl. Even Mr. Carlisle, who spoiled Sylvia silly, never went higher than twelve-thousand for a full set of jewelry. These men bled green. That didn’t mean they bled for their paid girlfriends and mistresses.
The more Monica let herself think about it, the more she heard Henry’s voice echoing in her head. “We’re two halves.” Part of her attraction to the submissive lifestyle was the beautiful binary presented to her. Things were black and white. Roles were clear. She never had to think beyond what she wanted for dinner and what she should wear that day – unless they were chosen for her, of course. She liked it when her Dom picked out a beautiful outfit for her to wear, ordered for her in a restaurant, and told her where they were going. But it only worked if he knew her enough to know she would feel great in that dress, love the meal, and enjoy the sights they saw. Monica was envious of her friends who had such men in their lives.
“I want to be your patron.” Monica’s nail scratched against the inscription. How had she overlooked the potential inside Henry? When they met, she assumed he was like any other alpha but polite male. That was until he told her what she had really been thinking – that he was Dom through and through.
Before any man could be accepted as a patron, Monica did some research on him. What he did, where he lived, how he made his millions or billions… Henry Warren was a name she hadn’t heard before. Either he dropped a good amount of his fortune on this collar and chain, or he was a sleeper businessman who controlled the world from behind the scenes. He wasn’t the face of a major company. He wasn’t a famous heir that showed up on Page 6. He was old money, but he knew how to use it. Monica’s last lover was old money as well. And look how that turned out for me.
Old money men were snobbish and out of touch. New money men were reckless and prone to bad decisions. Monica would never find a good balance.
Her phone rang.
The landline on her desk, of course, not her cell phone. Few had access to that. Monica shook her head to clear the cobwebs before snatching up the phone and saying, “You have reached Monica Graham. Speak.”
Nothing surprised her anymore. Not even hearing Henry’s voice on the other end of the line. “Good to hear you sounding so cheerful today.”
The collar was cold in her hand. “What can I do for you, Mr. Warren?”
“Please, Henry.”
“No, Mr. Warren.”
The pause was surely not comforting for either of them. “I was wondering if you would do me the honor of dinner, Ms. Graham.” He was going to play her game.
“Dinner? Why on Earth would I have dinner with you?”
“I said dinner, not a date. I want to discuss business.”
“I’m sure you do!”
“Not that kind of business. Investments.”
“Excuse me?”
Henry chuckled, although he must have done it far from his phone for as quiet as it was. “I want to discuss the possibility of investing in your business. Don’t tell me you couldn’t use some extra money in a place like that. You have a lot of expensive clientele to keep happy.”
“We already have investors.”
“And you don’t want more?”
Either her palm was sweaty or Henry Warren was making her phone burn in her hand. “I’m not sure it would be appropriate for us to have dinner.”
“It would be good for you to come down from your mountain and join me for dinner in the city. I’m in town for a few days.”
“You don’t live in the city?”
“No, but I keep a place here. I’m always looking for new ventures to gauge. Come have dinner with me.”
“I’m afraid I don’t do that. Go into the city, that is.”
“Fine. I’ll come there.”
Why was he being so stubborn? Men, men, men! “While I appreciate your vested interest in my business, Mr. Warren, I’m afraid that I am not open to new investors at this time.”
“You know, Monica, it could be that I want to get to know you.”
Well! She certainly wasn’t expecting candor like that. “You made that clear when you gave me your idea of a gift.”
“Have I offended you? Please, tell me if I have.”
“You haven’t offended me.” More like made my imagination run wild.
“Then you shouldn’t have any issue with having dinner with me. Tell me when. I’ll bring the drinks.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Monica stared at the collar on her desk. “I want to be your patron.” She imagined her and Henry sitting in a cozy restaurant, the man fawning over her while she in turn fawned over him. “Thursday. Five. If you’re even a minute late, it’s over.”
Another pause. At this rate he was going to kill her with the waiting. “Thank you for taking another chance on me. By the way…”
“Yes?”
He breathed deeply against the phone, that voice, those breaths burrowing into Monica’s ear as she felt a trickle of sweat come down her forehead and down her chest. “Never mind. We can talk about it on Thursday.”
Monica said the first thing to come to her mind, although she instantly regretted it. “I look forward to it.” No, no, no! What in the world was she doing? Don’t encourage him! Oh, she would encourage him all right. She let a smile cross her face before leaning against her desk and saying with a smile, “I look forward to how you try to seduce me next.”
Cat, mouse… who was who and which was which? Furthermore, how much longer would Monica be able to resist?