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The table fell silent. Monique maintained her poker face but had to look toward Helen before having the strength to answer. “Once upon a time, yes.”

The pride Gwyneth boasted for being right quickly fell off her countenance. “Sorry…”

While Jem shifted uncomfortably, Monique smiled. “Nothing to be sorry about. I’m hardly doing poorly for myself.”

“I’ll say.” Jem perked back up and pointed to Helen. “Didn’t think I’d see you with such a classy lady in a place like this, Helen. Look at you! Becoming a regular Dona Juana. Although it’s kind of funny, isn’t it?”

Helen was not smiling. “What’s funny, Jem?”

The server returned with drinks for Jem and Gwyneth, as well as refills for the other couple at the table. Monique snatched her fresh Manhattan and nursed it while the two dominants had a battle of secrets across the table. Business bullshit. Back at the Manoir, she would be taking notes. On a date with her Mistress?She was under no obligation to listen to a thing – unless Helen told her to, of course.

“Oh, you know.” Jem patted Gwyneth’s thigh. “Just some things I’ve heard on the grapevine.”

“I’d ask what those are,” Helen stirred her drink with the thin straw she was given. “but I don’t think I want to know. Not tonight.”

“Of course.” The knowing smile on Jem’s face did not inspire any confidence at the table. All Monique knew was that Helen did not look like she was enjoying herself any longer. Whatever went on in her brain right now had nothing to do with Monique, however. “So how did you two meet, exactly? I’d love to know.”

“How does anyone meet Ms. Grant in this world?” Monique didn’t like the undertone of Helen’s voice. It was similar to the way she spoke to her in the bedroom but tinged with resentment. Was this the Helen who did business? “We met at her Manoir, of course.”

“Of course,” Jem said.

“Of course,” Gwyneth said.

Tension covered the table. Monique glanced at Gwyneth, who averted her eyes and pretended to be enthralled with the show wrapping up on stage.What do these two know?Something that Monique didn’t? It made sense when she considered that she had only met Helen a few times.A few times, and yet it already feels like we’ve been together for eternity. There was something dangerous about that thought.

Things didn’t change until another couple arrived. Then another. Men and women from the business world coming together on a Tuesday night, of all nights, simply to enjoy drinks and watch people be tied up and talked down to on a stage. Not that many people were watching the shows once they connected with others and made bawdy jokes over drinks. Eventually, Monique had to get up from the table and join the new party ata bigger table in another corner. She recognized some of them from work and her old life with Jacqueline. None of them were interested in her.

Because she knew their sexual secrets.

Because she knew who owed who money.

Because she heard them make judgments while at her place of business. Or through her employees, who would feed her information so Monique could use it to her advantage.“Oh, Ms. So-And-So, you should speak to Mr. What’s-His-Name. I think you two would get along well.”It was in Monique’s best interest to have only good words leave her Manoir. If other rich denizens heard that good deals – and good times – were made in her home, then more of them showed up.

If they heard that someone was drunk enough to make a bad decision… somehow that would give her a bad reflection in the mirror.

Monique was content to sit next to Helen, arm around her, and nobody asking why.They pity her. None of the people at the large table would say so, but they probably thought Helen was being taken in by Jacqueline Love’s leftovers. They certainly spent a good amount of time pretending to brush something off their shoulders or be taken in by their empty glasses.Unfortunately for them, I can look right through that.

Part of it bothered Monique simply because she didn’t need reminders that she was a pariah around there. No, people didn’t hate her. They probably felt sorry for her, maybe even admired her for her business, but they all feared and pitied her because of her relation to Jacqueline. Lots of these people had to deal with Ms. Love in their everyday dealings. If she heard on the “grapevine”…Monique didn’t want to think about it. By now she knew that Monique was seeing Helen Warner. What she thought of that? A part of Monique didn’t care, but another was afraid.

Afraid of what? She had no idea.

“Excuse me, Masters and Mistresses.” A woman dressed in a black skintight suit stepped to the end of the table, where she distributed fliers advertising an upcoming event. “I would like to remind everyone that our annual auction is coming up in a few weeks. Thank you.” She bowed before turning to head to the next table.

Jem picked up the nearest flier and raised her eyebrows. “What do you think, my dear?” she asked Gwyneth, to whom she handed the flier. “Should I auction you off to the highest bidder? Maybe I’ll win and a gorgeous woman will buy you for a night.”

Gwyneth took the flier and folded it in half, lips pursed. “I’m not for sale, mydear. But we should attend as spectators.”

The rest of the table laughed, including Helen, who glanced at another flier before sliding it to someone else to look at. Monique caught sight of it.“Annual Submissive Auction.”Every year, Midnight put on an event like this, in which subs auctioned themselves to the audience. The happier the audience, the more money they gave the sub and their dominant. It was always one of the biggest nights of the year.Unless I have a lot of appointments, we might as well close the Manoir that night and come ourselves.Hm, maybe Monique should try to convince one of her employees to auction herself and split the profits…

Another drink was placed before her, and that was the end of those thoughts.

If Monique thought that she was going to get to spend an intimate date with Helen, then she was sorely wrong. Most of the evening was passed entertaining these other people she barely knew and only had a fleeting interest in. Sometimes she gazed at the stage, hoping for something exciting to happen, but Tuesday nights were slow in that aspect.

Some people talked to her. Mostly those asking about her business out of politeness. A few asked about her relationshipwith Helen.What do I say?Monique was practical and not about to boast that Helen was her new Mistress. Yet calling her “girlfriend” felt juvenile, especially in their type of liaison. “We’re dating,” was all she said. Two people left it at that, while another glanced between her and Helen before looking away with a snort.

People could be so rude.

As the evening wound down, Monique imbibed more alcohol. She wasn’t kidding when she said liquor made her giddy. While there wasn’t much for her to talk about with these people, she wouldn’t say she was bored. Especially when she lost most of her inhibitions and draped herself across Helen’s shoulders, reveling in the way people looked at them – like they had room to talk. Most of them had men and women hanging all over them as well.