Sugar Love Page 6

  “See that big beefy man headed this way?”

  Bryant looked across the restaurant. His eyes widened briefly. “How could I miss him? He’s as big as my walk-in closet.”

  “He’ll be escorting you out of my restaurant in about two minutes.”

  “I’m going, I’m going,” Bryant said, smirking. “But, my invitation still stands. You, your sugar baby, me, and Trish. At an event my company is hosting. It will be positively fabulous to put the past behind us.” He let out a laugh.

  Kent’s hands balled up into fists.

  Zander shook his head. His hands curled, as well, but he forced himself to remain calm. If he took a swing at Mitchum, customers and their mobile phones would plaster it all over social media. He didn’t need to be made a laughing stock. Cripple makes a lame attack on Bryant Mitchum with his high-tech hand.

  Chuck, the security guard, stepped toward them.

  “Is there a problem here, Mr. King?” He loomed over Bryant.

  Zander trained his simmering gaze at Bryant. “I don’t know, is there a problem?”

  “No problem,” Bryant said, smiling as benignly as the pope. “I’ll see you at the event then.”

  “Once hell freezes over,” Zander said. He turned to his security guard. “Make sure he finds his way to the front door.”

  “You got it, boss.” Chuck gave him a crisp salute. He strode beside Bryant, past the potted trees, heading for the front entrance where several customers waited to be seated.

  “That was unpleasant,” Kent said. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that loser.” He put his hand on Zander’s shoulder.

  “Yeah. Unpleasant is an understatement. I’m so pissed right now I’m about to go postal.” Zander shook with anger.

  “Take a walk, man. Don’t let him get under your skin. He’s not worth it,” Kent said.

  “Don’t let him get under my skin? He just bought our rival company, he’s dating my ex…It’s a little late for a lecture.” Sharp prickles of fear crawled along his skin. “And I thought the bitch lived in New York, now.”

  “Yeah,” Kent said. “That could be a problem. But, she’s kept to your agreement of no contact, right?”

  “Yeah. Haven’t seen her for five months, now. I hope I never see her again.” Zander’s mind whirled. His only options seemed, either get fucking drunk or…Call Effie.

  Kent regarded him with worried eyes, creased at the corners.

  “Don’t worry. I’m going to take your advice and go for a walk.”

  Kent sighed. “Good. Good plan. Need some company?”

  “Nah, I’ve got this. I’ll catch up with you later.” He turned and strode toward the exit. Once he stood on the sidewalk, he tapped her number.

  “Hi,” she said, brightly, after two rings. “This is you, right?”

  He instantly calmed, hearing her voice. “I don’t know. Depends on which you you’re hoping to speak with.”

  “Zander,” she said, almost shyly.

  “One and the same. I need a distraction. Come on a date with me.” His gaze trained on the back of Bryant, several blocks away, heading toward Pike’s Market.

  “Now?” she said.

  “Yes, now, when did you think, next week?” Zander snapped. He strangled the phone in his artificial hand.

  A passerby eyed him and his arm curiously.

  He turned about so his high-tech monstrosity faced the buildings.

  “I’ve got to turn in my final assignment, for physiology,” she said. “And finish up some chores.”

  “This isn’t a request. It’s an order,” Zander said, regretting the words the second they launched from his mouth.

  “Okay,” she said softly.

  “You did sign the contract, right? I’ve got a copy on my desk. No one forged your signature, right?” He pushed past a group of giggling teens spread out along the width of the sidewalk.

  Their laughter increased as he shoved through them. In a burst of paranoia, he growled, “What are you looking at?”

  The group quieted, halting in their tracks. One of them said, “It’s private. Mind your own business.”

  “Fuck you,” he barked. “Sorry,” he said to Effie. “Did you read the contract?”

  “Yes,” she said, sounding nervous.

  “And? What did it say?”

  “It said, basically, you own me for three months.”

  He let out a bitter laugh. “That’s what you read? That I own you? You’ve put a clever spin on contract language.”

  Ignoring his snark, she said, “And, it said, I can revoke our arrangement, but I’ll lose every penny you gave me. And, I’ll have to pay back the money you gave me. The terms of this business arrangement are crystal clear.”

  “Right. I wanted to give you a ‘get out of jail’ clause in case being with a cripple doesn’t suit.”

  “Some get out of jail clause. I’ll owe you more than I have.” A huffy sigh met his ear.

  “If I behave, I can earn rewards,” she said, in a voice laced with sarcasm. “More money. I’m to be like a trained poodle dancing for dog treats. I don’t need more money. I only need tuition.”

  He let out a genuine laugh. “Trained poodle…can I dress you up in hot little outfits?”

  Thick silence seeped through the phone.

  “And, at the end of our arrangement, I’m basically to disappear. I can never mention this arrangement to anyone. It will be as if I never existed. You’ll deny any allegations I might make about ever knowing you. Except that, I assume if I’m to accompany you on dates there will be some knowledge in people’s minds that I exist, right?” Effie’s words came out clipped.

  “Right,” Zander said. “I’ll tell whoever asks I did a favor for a friend. I helped him out by taking out his sister for the summer.”

  “Great,” she said, flatly. “I’m someone’s favor.”

  Another smothering silence stretched between them.

  “Can you tell me where we’re going today so I can dress appropriately?” Effie said.

  He considered for a moment. The only soothing thing he could think of was to get outdoors, as far away from here as possible. “Jeans. Jacket. Hiking shoes. Something comfortable. We’re going to the river.”

  “I’m not a river person.”

  For a second, he thought about laughing. How could he have signed up with a sugar baby who didn’t like the river?

  “Are you or are you not my sugar baby?” he demanded.

  “I am,” she said, in a small voice.

  “Then, I’ll pick you up in fifteen, got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, softly.

  He disconnected the phone. So, I’m a dickhead. I get to be whatever I need to be. I’m paying for her, right?

  His heart, however, told him he’d just put the first nail in the coffin of what could have been a decent friendship. But who the fuck cared? Me and my ‘tendencies’ would only fuck things up.

  Chapter 7

  Effie

  Panic always seemed to produce clumsiness in Effie. Since she’d dropped her phone on her dorm room floor and cracked the cover, tripped over a book, and banged her shin against her desk chair, all in the last five minutes, she figured she qualified as panicked. She knew, as a paid escort, she couldn’t really dictate what she and Zander did on dates, or when they occurred for that matter.

  But, hiking? At the river? I’d rather be strangled by dental floss.

  Her roommate, Sarah, a pre-med student and as much of a geek as Effie, was seldom here, so she would be no help in advising Effie on outdoor attire.

  Effie opened the door to her tiny closet and stared, helplessly, at her clothes. Not much for hiking attire. She plucked a pair of sweatpants from a hanger. Will these do? She glanced at the cracked screen of her phone, which sat on the desk. I need help. She picked up the phone and tapped Haley’s number.

  “Hey, girl,” Haley said.

  “Help!” Effie blurted. “Zander’s going to be here in about ten minu
tes, and I have nothing to wear.”

  “Where are you going?” Haley said.

  “The river! I don’t even know what to do at a river, except watch it roll along. Sure, I might amuse my mind for a few minutes pondering the minute organisms at play in the water or the diverse eco-system, but that’s hardly an activity a billionaire would like.” Effie backed toward her bed and sat down. She slumped over her knees.

  “Hmm. He’ll probably want to hike.”

  Effie let out a groan. “Hike? As in struggle up a hill?”

  Haley sniffed. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to be a good sugar baby. When he says jump, you say, ‘how high?’ For a hike, you’ll need sturdy shoes and a good jacket. Do you have those?”

  Effie glanced at the open door of her closet. “I’ve got a raincoat. And Vans. Will that work?”

  “Give me two secs, and I’ll be right over.”

  “Okay, thanks, Haley.” Effie disconnected the phone. She stared at the clock on her screen. Eight minutes. He’ll be here in eight minutes.

  Thirty seconds later, Haley bustled into the room, clothes and boots in hand, leaving the door ajar. She dropped the clothing and boots onto the bed next to Effie and said, “Here, start with these.” She held up a pair of Levi’s. “We’re pretty much the same size. Go, go, go. Get these on. You don’t want to keep your sugar daddy waiting, got it?”

  “Got it.” Effie stood, removed her slacks, and tugged the Levi’s over her hips.

  “Where’s your brush?” Haley said.

  Effie pointed toward her dresser. “There, on top.” She glanced through the crack in the door at the empty hallway. He’s going to be here. At my door. In less than six minutes.

  Haley traipsed across the room and picked up the black plastic brush. “Okay, you dress, and I’ll fix your hair.”

  Effie shrugged into a long-sleeve, dark-green top, made by a company called ArcTix One, leaving her The Big Bang Theory t-shirt underneath. Then, she hefted the lightweight hiking boots off the bed.

  “These look like something a Trekkie might wear.” She chuckled.

  “So, don them already. Don’t analyze. You need to move your ass. If Zander is like most billionaires, he’s punctual.” Haley seized a handful of Effie’s hair and began brushing.

  Effie, with her hair in Haley’s grasp, did her best to lift each foot and slip into the shoes. She propped her feet at the edge of the bed, one at a time, and tied the laces, while Haley brushed and fussed with her long locks. “Do your contracts have revoke status such that you’d lose every dime the guy gives you?”

  “What?” Haley’s eyebrows drew together. “No. Did yours?”

  Effie tried to nod but Haley had a death grip on her hair. “Yes.”

  Haley paused, holding a lock of Effie’s hair in a tight grasp. “Effie. The sugar baby always gets negotiation rights. You could have amended that. Do you think you’ll want to revoke?”

  Effie’s eyes stung. She told herself it was because Haley was pulling her hair. “I didn’t know. I let greed for my education get the best of me.”

  Haley’s death-pull softened. She continued fussing and brushing. “You’ll be fine. He seems nice enough.”

  Not so sure about that. Effie nibbled at her lower lip.

  Haley finished her work with a couple of hair ties. “Finished,” Haley said. “Go look.”

  Effie stood and darted toward the small mirror at the back of her closet door. “Wow. A braid. I don’t look half bad.”

  “Not bad? You look pretty and perfectly attired for a day in the outdoors.” Haley stood and grabbed a light blue jacket from the bed. “Here,” she said, extending the jacket. “It’s a warm day, but it might be cool, later.” She glanced at Effie’s cracked phone. “What happened to your Droid?”

  Effie shrugged. “I dropped it. You know how I get when I’m in a panic.”

  “Girl, you’re going to have to do better. If Zander sees you tripping all over yourself, it won’t be good for either of you.”

  “I know,” Effie said, glumly. She took a couple of steps and retrieved the phone. “I’ve got one minute.”

  “Time’s up,” said a smooth, familiar voice from the hallway.

  Effie’s heart launched into her throat.

  “Yipes,” she whispered to Haley. “He’s here.”

  Her nerves frizzed into “high-alert” mode.

  “Go,” Haley whispered. She pointed toward the door.

  “I’m going,” Effie whisper-hissed. She stumbled toward the door and opened it wide.

  Zander stood in the hall, wearing jeans and another Henley. In his hand, he clutched several long-stem roses. Bearing a serious, stony expression, he looked like someone ready to walk to his execution, yet oh-so-handsome.

  Effie’s tongue tied into knots. “Mr. King. I mean, Zander. You’re right on time.”

  “I’m apparently one minute early,” he said, cocking an eyebrow.

  One of her dorm mates, Jennifer, who lived two doors down, sauntered past. When she passed behind Zander, she mouthed, “Wow, he’s hot.”

  Effie nodded. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly entering the desert zone.

  “These are for you,” he said, thrusting the roses in her direction. “You’ll accept flowers, right?”

  She glared at him. “Yes, I’ll accept flowers.” Asshole. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

  The only time she’d ever received flowers was on her eighteenth birthday. She knew where those had come from—across the street at the cemetery. Buying flowers was an indulgence her family couldn’t afford. Her mom had snatched some lilies and Baby’s Breath from some dead guy’s grave.

  Effie had been mortified to get flowers meant for a dead man, but her mom said they’d just go to waste in the cemetery so why not make good use of them?

  “Remember Haley?” she said, stepping aside.

  “Of course,” Zander said, leaning against the door jamb. “You like mojitos, I hear, Haley.” A slight smile crossed his face.

  Haley straightened her posture, pushing out her boobs, something she did without thinking when she spoke with guys. “I do. I love them, actually. Well, not love love them. More like an extreme like.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Going now. Catch you later, Effie. Good to meet you, Zander.” She scurried toward the door.

  Zander moved out of the way for her to exit.

  When Haley had disappeared down the hall, Zander said, “Ready?”

  “I suppose so. Am I dressed for the river?”

  Zander smiled. He had a dazzling smile, complete with dimples. “You look lovely. You’re dressed perfectly.”

  “Thanks. You look good, too.” Effie paused, unsure what to say next. “Well…I’m at your service.”

  The smile vanished, and this other guy, a serious, somber glaring fellow, emerged.

  What did I say?

  “I need to put these away first. They’re so pretty. Thank you.” She sniffed the fragrant roses and crossed the room to find a container for them. Like I keep vases in my room. Hoping Zander didn’t notice, she snagged a to-go teacup from the trash, filled it with water from the bathroom sink, and placed the roses inside.

  “Next time I’ll bring a vase, too,” he said. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely over his chest, apparently tracking Effie’s every move.

  She stiffened. Shit. He noticed.

  A weird smile flitted across her face.

  “It’s the best I could do. Okay, ready,” she said, every nerve in her body pricked in fearful anticipation.

  Zander opened the door and stepped into the hall.

  She picked up her keys, purse, and mobile phone from the dresser and exited the room, locking it behind her. She followed Zander along the eggshell painted hall, down the stairs, and through the lobby, toward the main door.

  This whole thing is unreal. I’m actually going on a date with a billionaire.

  “I take it you don’t spend much time ou
tdoors,” Zander said, holding the door open for her.

  She crossed the threshold, entering the warmish Seattle day.

  Trees, green with leaves, flanked the sidewalks. Their glorious white and pink blossoms had come and gone a couple of months ago. Green grass covered the area around and between the concrete walkways. Stately buildings bordered the large green lawn.

  Zander stepped next to her. He placed a cool, hard hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the parking lot behind the dorm.

  “We’re outdoors now, so I guess I spend time outside,” she said, smirking.

  He chuckled. “Good point. I meant more of a wilderness area.”

  “No, sir, no wilderness for me.”

  He frowned. “Stop with the sir business, if you don’t mind.”

  “Yes, sir. I mean, yes, Zander. Sure.” The toe of her boot caught on an uneven crack in the sidewalk, sending her stumbling.

  He steadied her with his hand. “Easy. I’ve got you.”

  You sure do.

  Even though Zander clutched Effie with his prosthesis, she felt somewhat faint from the contact. Her excitement threatened to propel her into the air on gossamer wings. She side-eyed him, noting his chiseled profile. His dark hair had been cut short along the side, while thick waves covered the top of his head. No doubt about it—this guy was a god.

  They trekked through the tree-lined path and rounded the corner toward the parking lot. Several yards ahead sat a huge BMW limousine, taking up four parking spots.

  A man dressed in jeans, a white collared shirt, and a crisp black jacket leaned against the driver’s side. When he saw Zander, he straightened, took a couple of steps, and opened the back door.

  Effie inhaled, sharply. “Is that our ride?” she said, in a squeaky voice. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, something in my throat. Is that what we’re taking to the river?”

  “You don’t mind, do you? I’m not in the mood to drive now.” He guided her toward the glossy, Alpine-blue vehicle.

  “Mind? No. Not me. Whatever you prefer.” She almost said sir but caught herself.

  “Shit, would you look at that?” a male voice said.