Monica Graham Novels & Stories

Knowing I haven't attended a party like this one other than the one back in Oxford with Victor "Come on…"we heard Monica say as soon as the security men opened the door for her. She was looking elegant and hot in her denim midi dress, it was sparkly and the entire back up to her waist was exposed in front, there was a deep V-line that parted her breasts showing everyone there was no bra in her dress. The red sheath dress fell to her feet while her brown hair was styled nicely and draped to her front. Her entire shoulders were exposed and I had to say the woman knew what fit her body

My mind was too blank to think, so all I could do was give her a blank stare without recognizing who she was. She took the papers from me and introduced herself with a smile, "I'm Monica Brown. I was your senior in college and presented you with an award during the anniversary gala." Monica's father had been the city's wealthiest tycoon. As a result, she had always been a prominent figure on campus. I heard her father died a few years ago. As his only child, Monica had inherited his fortune and become a billionaire herself.

she says and Mara smiles. “The pleasure is mine. It’s not every day that we get to meet Monica Montgomery, a social media influencer,” Mara says and that’s when it clicks. I heard her name because Mara had mentioned her before. They have done some jobs together. Monica smiles as she waves Mara off. I look at her and she winks at me. She is playing the woman like a violin. This is unbelievable. “I thought I would introduce myself and ask if you would like to join us,” she says, looking over her shoulder at the group of women behind her. They all look just like her, like they are clones of each other, all blonde with slim features and expensive clothes. “We have brunch every Monday to discuss

Monica said in her usual mocking tone. I sat on the edge of the leather couch, legs crossed, eyes scanning the room as if daring them to challenge me. The atmosphere was thick with disbelief, the silence almost deafening. I had just dropped a bomb, and I was relishing the way it detonated. Monica was the first to react. Her perfectly arched brow lifted as she tilted her head. “Gina? A philanthropist?" She scoffed. "Are we talking about the same woman who grew up with Lily? That Gina?"

I called, “half an hour to show time.” “Thanks, Charlie,” Monica said, as she shimmied between me and the door frame. Her long bare legs made short work of the red room floor—we preferred red instead of green like in theater—as she strode toward her vanity and took a seat. The fishnet stockings she had on were dotted with glittering crystals at every cross section. I’d been eyeing them for weeks considering buying myself a pair, but the good ones cost upward of a couple hundred dollars. The money she earned during her routines made purchases like that no big deal to her. Monica was my highest grossing dancer. She’d been stripping here at Ascension since I first started as a dancer. She and I

Tina rushed by and asked Cassy who was busy talking to the security men. "That good for nothing rascal won't come…he's a failure" came Monica's voice and both Tina and Cassy turned around and we were graced by a beautiful-looking Monica, Tina was amused by how Monica was looking. Elegant as always. The black deep V-line black dress she was wearing looked good on her. Hugging her curves just the right way. Monica was fond of heavy makeup and with an event like this one. Tina was amazed by the goddess of beauty. Her dress was simple yet elegant

said I picking up the phone. "hello miss smith. this is one of your fans." said the gentleman on the phone who I estimated to be about the age of seventy and more because of how wheezy his voice sounded. "oh hello there sir. what's your name?" "My name is Anthony Miller. actually, my granddaughter is your fan but she has had your number for ages and had not the guts to call you." explained the man. "yes? thank you Mr. Miller. maybe I can talk to your granddaughter? "

“But I didn’t know how you’d react. You’ve been so wrapped up in your work with Adrian, and I didn’t want to make things more complicated.” More complicated. As if things could get any worse. “Grace, listen to me,” I said, my tone firm but gentle. “Monica Tate isn’t someone you want to get involved with. She’s dangerous. She’s been trying to sabotage Adrian’s business for months.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and I could almost hear Grace processing what I’d just told her. “I didn’t know that,” she admitted quietly. “But Bella, this could be a huge opportunity for me. I can’t just ignore it.”

she said. Monica is a girl who moved to New York City alone. All of his family are in Chicago. Monica was born into an affluent family. His father was a teacher, and his mother was a seamstress. "How is mother?" muttered Monica as she closed her eyes. At the same time, suddenly his cell phone rang. "Who is it? Why is the number unknown?" muttered Monica. Without thinking further, Monica also accepted the call. "Hello." "Hi beautiful. Am I bothering you?"

Her hands flail about as she rants, pointing at her, herself, and then her again. “No way. I own my designs. I’m not letting you get one more bit of recognition from showing them after the way you treated me professionally, and Jackson and me personally. You would rot in your own ancient designs until they disintegrated into tatters around your cold body before I would work with you again.” Monica hopes that makes it clear exactly where she stands. Jacqueline takes a sharp breath, her eyes hard marbles as she glares at Monica. No one speaks to her this way. But she was not no one, she was Monica Tedd of Monica Tedd Designs, and she was not doing a damn thing that will make Jacqueline Corbin