by Amy Brent
“Really?”
She nods, “It’s the real deal. If you want, then I can help you with one.”
“I’m not into that. Besides I was going to ask you to help me with a little something. I’ve got an opportunity to be part of the Paris Fashion Show. I was going to see if you could help me.”
“How?”
I sigh as I start to pluck up the courage to ask her, “Pay for my trip to Paris. I know that it’s a lot and we haven’t seen each other in a while, and I really shouldn’t be asking you. But if you could just even get me a one-way ticket then I’ll hit it big, and then everything will be sorted out.”
She doesn’t say a word, to make matters worse, she’s crossing her arms.
“Mom and I are working like twelve hours per day and sharing a bed in a one-bedroom apartment. I need to get out of there. I know that I shouldn’t be asking, but I just thought…”
She grabs hold of my hand and says, “Ida. Stop it. I can’t help you with that. You see he controls everything. Starbucks and the odd gift for my mom is fine. But as for physical cash, we have an arrangement, and there’s no way that I can raise that type of money so quickly. But I do know one way that I can help you.”
I’m intrigued about what she’s going to say because now I start to realize that I’m borderline desperate. I didn’t even ask her about her mom or anything; I just asked her to give me money. What the heck is wrong with me?
“Amy, I haven’t seen you in forever. I shouldn’t have asked you like that.”
She shakes her head, “Nonsense. What are friends for?”
I hesitate as I nod my head, because the girl in front of me, looks like a former shadow of my friend. The one that I used to hang around with, and we’d vowed to take the modeling world by storm. Right now the only thing I was taking by storm was mop buckets and vacuum cleaners.
“Look. One of his friends is running a competition. There’s a lot of money at stake. We’re talking 10 big ones. Because it’s a one-off special. If I can get you in there and if you win then it’ll be worth your while,” she whispers as the moms on the next table are rocking their babies but seem to be more interested in our conversation than their own.
“Why don’t you go for it?”
It’s wrong for me to ask, but I just don’t get why she’s not going for it. If her sugar daddy’s not giving her money, only things.
“Because my daddy won’t allow it. We have an arrangement. Besides as soon as I met him and he changed my life around, then I didn’t even think anymore about my aspirations to be a model. Being with him is more than I ever need in life. Less work and he’s happy, and so am I. Let’s face it, Ida. I hate to say it, but I know what’s going on with you right now. Bethany told me about your mom and your situation. I meant to call you, but I’ve been busy. He doesn’t keep me like this to look like them.”
She tilts her head at the women, who were listening because one of them has a frown on her face and I can’t help but laugh as they start to prepare to leave.
Amy continues explaining, “You’ll have to come with me. Make yourself more presentable, and I’ll help you with the video and application. But there’s one thing.”
I can’t believe that she’s been in touch with the girls and all of them avoid me like the plague, then again every time they wanted to go out whenever they were in town I was working. They were the smart ones of our group and had their eye on one thing, and that was going to college. They were college girls, the last thing I knew that they wanted to do was to sit down and talk to their friend, who wasn’t a model only a cleaner.
I can’t believe the words that are leaving Amy’s mouth. It sounds like a dream come true, and the price would be $10,000. I blink my eyes furiously wondering if this is an illusion. The type that I have once in a while. I picture myself as Cinderella scrubbing the floors, and then Prince Charming comes and sweeps me off my feet. A long way from here and to a life that girls like me always dream about.
“What?”
My heart stops beating as I think about the idea, that there’s a catch and I may not be eligible for it.
“You need to still be a virgin,” she nods her head as if to confirm if I’m still a virgin.
I lift up my jersey. The best one that I have which has a hole hidden at the back, whereas the others I only use for cleaning.
“What do you think?”
She laughs, “Okay, just meet me here the same time tomorrow.”
I point to her, “If muffins are on you. Sure, that’s not going to be a problem.”
I think about how much my friend’s changed and realize that she could be my guardian angel. The one that takes me away from my miserable life. Fuck Prince Charming, he’s got nothing on Amy right now. She’s going to give me the ticket to get out of here, and I owe her more than my life if she manages to pull this off.
Chapter Three
Ferguson
“You did what?”
My business partner, Darren asks as he sits down in my office. I did it behind his back, and he’s probably thinking if I’m joking. One thing he should know about me. I don’t fucking joke. Especially when it comes to money.
I repeat it, not because he didn’t hear what I said but because he wants me to and he needs to get out of this rut, and I’m more than willing to help him. Especially when we’ll both be getting something out of it.
“I said that I’m running a competition among the virgins for a Christmas day special.”
He laughs, “Good for you. I hope that you have fun. I thought that you gave up this sugar daddy business. It’s too damn expensive.”
I point to him, “Women are expensive. Believe me when I say that being a sugar daddy is the cheaper option. You’ll be able to see because you’re coming along with me. We’ll have one virgin between us.”
He stands up, “Not that shit again. Besides the last time that I checked, your last one cost you a pretty penny. And, I told you that I didn’t want to do that crap again. Besides I thought that you would have grown out of it by now. Shit, you’re forty-six, not twenty-six! Or have you forgotten?”
Darren undoes his button, it’s late on a Friday, and we’re the only ones in the office. Everyone’s gone to the local bar or getting ready to party their Friday night away. Not men like us. Maybe we’re too old, and the only thing that we crave these days are drinking in a quiet room and having sex. I could never get tired of fucking.
Darren heads towards the bar, “You want one?”
I nod, he doesn’t bother asking me what I want but starts pouring the bottle of bourbon. The one that I had imported from France and cost me shit loads of money.
“Yes, but ever since the last one cost me a pretty penny. It was a lot more than that. One of the guys in the club said that this was better. So much better and more satisfying.”
“Jesus Christ Ferguson. You guys have a club. What is it called The Big Daddies club?”
He’s trying to mock me, but if he weren't my best friend, then I would have sent him out of my office by now.
“You’ve never been married. Never tried to settle down and you still want to fuck around, the same way that you did back in college,” he sums up my life with a few sentences, and I feel proud of my life. There’s nothing wrong with it, and he makes it sound as if it’s the worse thing in the world.
I take a swing of my drink and say, “Oh, so it would be better if I’d been married. My wife took every penny I earned. As soon as you caught her, then you found out that she was on some island with your fucking cleaner. Loose everything from your house to every dime in your account and then go into a depression so fucking deep that no one thought that you would come out off if it weren't for your best friend that helped you get on the straight and narrow again.”
He’s pissed because he doesn’t like the account of his own life, whereas mine. I have nothing to be ashamed about, no one gets hurt, and I make the rules. Something that I’ve never been able to do whenever I tried
to dabble in the relationship arena and then given up. Women only say that they understand the rules, hoping to manipulate you into their way of thinking. I’d given two women in my life the benefit of the doubt. One was my girlfriend who ended up spending the last two weeks of our relationship telling me that I had to put a ring on her finger or allow her to move in. The other was one of the girls that I’d been looking after. I’d been bitten twice, and I had to feed my craving, fucking, without the fucking headache with it.
“If you asked me to come here so that you can piss me off, then it worked,” he dropped the glass on the bar and is swiftly leaving my office.
“Wait!”
He stops in his tracks and takes a deep breath.
“What you doing for Christmas?”
I know the answer to my question, he’ll be at home, drinking himself into a deep sleep. The same state that I found him in last Christmas. Just because that was the day that his wife walked out of the door. On fucking Christmas day, she said that she couldn’t spend another year pretending, the problem was that she was the only one that was pretending, not him.
“Home!”
He blurts as he continues heading to the door, but at a slower pace. I can tell that he’s dying to get the fuck out of here. Not until he’s heard me out and not until we get this all out in the open.
“I’m going to be spending Christmas with a virgin. I’ve already set-up the competition. I’m hoping that you can join me. I did it as a Christmas gift to you,” I smile as I start to walk towards him.
“So, if it’s a gift for me. Then how comes you’re joining in?”
I’m just about to answer him when he blurts out, “The only person you do anything for is yourself. Let’s face it. This has nothing to do with me. Good luck and hopefully you can get one of your new friends from your Sugar Daddy club to join you.”
Then he walks out of the door. I know when he’s in that kind of mood, that there’s nothing I can do to convince him. I’m not fucking happy about the way that he spoke to me. After all, I’ve done for him. Did I get him out of rehab for my benefit? Did I lend him money to start-up again for my benefit?
No.
Only his, and I’m pissed that he wants to make out that this has been all about me. I’ve been going out on a limb for him. To think that he’s so ungrateful about it. Makes me so fucking mad. I’ll go to my club indeed maybe there I’ll pick up a new friend. One that isn’t so fucking ungrateful.
Chapter Four
Ida
I’m sitting in Starbucks, the same way that I’ve been doing every week for the last couple of weeks, waiting on Amy. One thing about her, punctuality isn’t her forte. Then again, it never was when we were back in high school. She was always late for class. Studies. But never for meeting up and talking about boys. She never had issues for turning up on time for that.
I smile as I think about how things are going to change. Amy says that she’s put in a good word for me and so far everything seems to be going my way.
“Amy!”
I wave as I spot her coming in, with an all in a red tight jumpsuit that leaves nothing to the imagination and everyone was staring including me. She told me about her time with her sugar daddy, a man who will be faceless and nameless in all our conversations. It’s as if he’s her lover and friend at the same time. I never understood their arrangement. She knows that her sugar daddy’s married and she’s his mistress, and that seems good enough for her. She says that it’s better than being a model, I’m just not sure that I fully understand how being at someone’s beck and call can be better than having your independence.
“Damn! You look hot!”
I blurt out as she approaches the table, she looked better than when I saw her through the window. Maybe a part of me’s jealous, because I have all the freedom in the world, yet I don’t even look like a cent whereas she looks like a million dollars.
She smiles and then kisses me on both cheeks, “You’re looking a lot better.”
I laugh at the compliment. We’ve been shopping a couple of times, and some of the dresses we’ve bought clothes that are nearly as much as one month's rent. I can’t believe that she has access to so much cash. Then again, she said that the dresses were fine because she has to keep the receipts so that she can show them to him. At times I think that she has the best life in the world, then other times I worry about her. Especially, because her makeup seems to be more excessive every week. I wonder if she's putting on a front and she's not as happy as she makes out to be.
“Coffee?”
She points to the menu, and this time I tell her that I don’t just want a coffee, I wouldn’t mind a couple of muffins too. She smiles and then I sit down at the Amy and Ida corner. It’s as if every time we come here, the same spot is free. It’s in the corner away from everyone and the window. Whereas most mom’s especially that love coming here, don’t come just to talk about their children or even their lives. If anything, they come to spy and discuss anyone that happens to be passing by.
“Five weeks and counting, she says as she puts down the coffee and muffins.”
I nod, “I know, I still feel as if I’ve got a lot to do.”
She smiles, “You do. The makeup, hair, and clothes were the first step. My sugar daddy's fine with it. He says that it's great that I don't do everything alone and he approves of you entering the competition."
I want to say something to her because she talks about him as if he's her dad. Her real dad. He used to control everything in her life. I want to ask her, but she's so lost in helping me out with the competition that I wonder if she's doing it for my benefit or hers?
"Now, we have to do the big thing. The one that counts…”
I agree, “The video.”
She says, “That can make or break you. We need to work on that, and I will make you a winner especially with the push that’s happening to make you top of the list.”
“What do you mean?”
She smiles, “Well, I spoke to my daddy about you, and he’s a good friend of the guy that’s running the competition. He says as long as you do as I say, then he’ll put you on the front line.”
I get so excited about her words, “Like rig the competition?”
She winks as she picks up her coffee and gives me step-by-step instructions on what to do to be a winner. I have a good feeling about this; there’s just one problem. I’ve been telling mom, that I’ve been meeting Amy. I lied and said that she’s taking the modeling world by storm, so that’s why she’s been able to buy me the fancy clothes. I just want to make sure that I get this right. There’s too much at stake.
“Get ready to make 10 g’s at Christmas!”
She says as she motions for us to do a high-five. So, much can be done with that money, I’ll tell mom tonight Christmas. I’ll just miss out the part about going to Paris and most of all the fact that I’m selling my virginity on Christmas day.
***
I get back home, and mom’s in tears again. She’s trying to hide it. The same way that she always does when I catch her.
“Mom, what happened?”
She shakes her head, “Nothing. How was your coffee with Amy?”
No, she’s not going to dismiss the fact that she’s crying and I’m not changing the conversation. Something that I’ve been doing and I don’t want to do it now. I’m on a high, and I’m ready to tell her the reason why. I think that our lives are going to change for the better.
