Sugar Love

by Callie Bardot

  Mr. Brown-eyes cocked his head. “Is that what you think of yourself?”

  “Maybe. No. I don’t know.” She shrugged. “This isn’t really my scene. I don’t know why I let my friend drag me here.”

  Mr. Brown-eyes laughed. “I can relate. I was dragged here against my will, too. Matter of fact, I was about to leave until I saw you. I made a beeline in your direction, but you disappeared on me.”

  Effie’s mouth fell open. She quickly snapped it shut, not wanting to appear like more of a moron than she already felt.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Zander King.” He extended a cool-looking high-tech black and gold hand in her direction. A challenging sort of glare accompanied the gesture.

  Effie swallowed hard, hoping she didn’t do something stupid. She studied his prosthesis and shook it, surprised to feel the rigid fingers curl around her hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said, forcing her heart to calm. “I’m Effie D’Archangel. And before you ask, it’s spelled with an A.R.C.H. Not ark, like Noah. Or, arc, like a curve.” She traced a half-moon shape in the air. “An immigration agent bastardized the name D’Arcangelo when my great-grandfather came from Italy to America. And that’s what we ended up with. My family, I mean. D’Archangel.”

  Shame flames at her rapid-fire share licked at her neck and cheeks. She wanted to melt into the floor like candle wax.

  Still gripping her, he glanced at their hands, then eyed her with a questioning stare, eyebrows lifted high.

  “What? That’s a true story,” she said.

  The crowd around them began to talk louder, no doubt fueled by drink and “new prospect” excitement.

  His eyes seemed to ice over.

  What did I do? Can he already tell I’m poor?

  He released her and lifted his fake hand to run it through his hair.

  Her cheeks burned. Did I do something wrong? Was it because I stared at his hand? It’s so cool. How could I not?

  “It’s a lovely story,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t call it lovely. More of a fact-based scenario,” Effie said.

  “Sorry?” He lifted his tech-hand to cup his ear.

  She nodded and leaned forward. “I know, right? It’s getting loud in here.”

  Zander leaned forward, too. Close enough for his breath to warm her face.

  She shivered, pulling her defenses around her like armor. Don’t forget. He’s a HMM. And HMMs are depraved.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “There’s a cafe across the street that says open late.”

  “A café?” She gulped. “Away from here?”

  He frowned slightly and said, “I’m not taking you down a dark alley if that’s what you’re worried about. I’d simply like to be able to hear you when we chat.”

  She nodded, her belly doing flip-flops and cartwheels.

  “Come,” he said, taking her hand with his real one.

  The touch sent volcanic sensations through her body. But she warned herself against making more of this than an information gathering session. He’ll probably dump me once he’s had a chance to inspect me outside of the glam party room.

  As they crossed the room, weaving through the crowd, he snatched one of the gold boxes from the tree. He squeezed it into his front pants pocket where it bulged, conspicuously.

  Before exiting, they retrieved their coats.

  His looked like it cost a fortune.

  Hers came from J.C. Penney. She thought she’d scored when she found it on the discount rack for only $29.99. Regardless, he helped her into it as if it were a queen’s robe.

  In the hallway, heading toward the lift, strange sounds met her ears.

  Zander snickered.

  “What?” she said.

  “Don’t you know what that is?” he said.

  She shook her head. “I don’t. It sounds like someone’s in distress.”

  “No,” he said, striding toward someone’s office. “It sounds like someone’s about to orgasm.” He seized the doorknob and threw the door open.

  Two pairs of eyes, from two bodies locked in coitus on the desk, whipped around to stare at him.

  The women’s hands were bound behind her back. Her mouth had been bound with a gag.

  Effie gasped. What the fuck? Is that some guy’s idea of fun to bind and gag a woman?

  Her eyes flicked toward the elevator, her only means of escape. But then, despite her shame, she kept looking.

  “Fuck, man, give us some privacy,” the guy said, his pants around his ankles. His generous length poised at the derriere of the woman spread across the escritoire.

  “Sorry,” Zander said, chuckling. “My bad.” He released the door, and it slowly closed, hiding the sex tableau.

  “They were…He had his…And she was…” Her words lodged in her throat.

  His eyebrows creased together. “Too much? I apologize. I thought you’d think it funny.”

  “I, um, I’m no virgin,” she stammered. “But I’ve never done it like that,” she whisper-hissed.

  A wide grin split Zander’s face.

  He’s probably scheming on how to break me into his sex games. Effie seized a lock of hair and madly twirled it around her finger.

  When they entered the elevator, her tongue tied up in knots. She pressed into the corner of the lift and stared at her gold Vans.

  “What do you like to do?” he said, breaking the silence. He pressed the button for the lobby.

  “Sexually?” she blurted.

  He smirked. “If that’s where you want to go, I’m game. But I meant for work or fun.”

  “Um, it’s not very interesting. I don’t think you’ll care to hear.” She tugged her hair to the point of pain.

  “Let me decide.” He pinned her to the wall with his gaze.

  “I like…” She tried to think of a more interesting answer. “Rocket science.”

  His head jerked back. “Seriously?”

  She shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

  The lift dinged, and the doors opened.

  “Okay,” he said, drawing out the word. As he led her through the marble-floored lobby, toward the night-lit street, he said, “What are you really interested in?”

  She blew out her breath. Okay, here goes. “I love biochemistry and physiology. Living organisms excite me. It excites me to understand complex processes in the human body.”

  She waited for the blow of disinterest to strike. Strangely, it didn’t come.

  Instead, he held the door open for her, smiling. They both exited onto the sidewalk and then started for the crosswalk.

  “Are you serious this time?” he asked, coming to a stop at the red light.

  He reached for her hand again, and she did not resist. She thrilled with the sizzling contact of skin to skin. The night seemed electric with possibility, something she rarely felt.

  “Yes. Go ahead and say it’s pathetic.”

  “Why pathetic? I think that’s fascinating. You have a bright mind. I like an intelligent woman.”

  The “Walk” signal started blinking, and he led her across the street.

  “Are you teasing me? This is the time when most guys bolt,” she said.

  “Scout’s honor.” He crossed his chest with his tech-hand. “And I’m not most guys.”

  He led her into a coffee shop called Hipsters.

  Effie shivered. Some sort of date with this god of a man was about to begin.

  He was a big deal. A member of the depraved elite, if she believed her mother.

  And she was a great big nobody with a brain too big for her body.

  Chapter 5

  Effie

  As she stepped through the doorway to Hipsters Coffee and Tea, Effie’s shoe caught on the doorframe. She stumbled, and flaming heat instantly scorched her neck and cheeks.

  Zander caught her upper arm. “You all right?”

  “Sure. Fine,” Effie said, wondering if she should skitter outside and give this guy a c
hance to find someone better.

  “Scared of me?” he said.

  She shook her head, then, changed her mind and nodded, furiously.

  “I promise I don’t bite,” he said, the corners of his eyes creasing as he looked at her. “Not on the first date, anyway.”

  Oh, my god. Effie’s bones turned to jelly.

  He placed his hand on the small of her back.

  A jolt of electricity sparked up her spine. She jerked. “Yipes.”

  He cocked his head. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “Absolutely fine,” she managed to say, with a wave of her hand. “Never better.”

  As fine as one can be when she’s being led across the room by a depraved billionaire.

  “Let’s head to the back, okay?” he said.

  “Sure, fine,” she said again, trying to get her wits together as she scanned the room. Just make it across the room without tripping, Effie. You can do it.

  Customers reading books, typing on their computers, or scanning their tablets or mobile phones—it all suited her style more than a sugar daddy billionaire party.

  He stopped at a corner table and pulled out a chair for her. “What can I get you? Coffee? Tea? A chocolate chip cookie?”

  “Tea’s fine. Peppermint is my favorite.” She shrugged off her coat, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious in her tangerine-colored sweater dress. I should have worn my Star Trek sweatshirt.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back. I could use some coffee.” He softly squeezed her shoulder and turned, heading toward the register.

  She inhaled the Hipster vibe. It buzzed with caffeine, thinking minds, and curious conversation.

  A couple to her right discussed cryogenics and their applicability in modern times.

  A trio to her left held a quiet, but heated, discussion about politics.

  For a second, Effie forgot the focus of the night, recalling the information she’d heard this morning on “the numerous and intricate signaling processes involved in the development and maintenance of a functional organism.” That’s how Professor Blake had introduced the topic to her after class. He’d been explaining what to expect in the Cell Signaling and Diseases course she’d be taking this summer—if this sugar baby transaction took place. She’d sat riveted as Blake had described the “processes of cellular communication, cell signaling mechanisms and the diseases resulting from their malfunction, such as cancer, stroke, and neuron degeneration.”

  Knowledge made her giddy with excitement, especially knowledge about the human body. She considered the body to be a masterpiece of structure, form, and elegance. She loved to study people in motion and muse upon the physiological processes at play while bashing a tennis ball across the court, running a marathon, riding bikes through the streets of Seattle…or sitting on top of a guy’s face while he licked her. That thought sent her head into a spin. She glanced around in case anyone in her vicinity had mind-reading abilities.

  Zander strode back to their table, a mug of coffee in one hand, a white porcelain cup of tea in the other.

  She jolted back to tonight’s goal—become someone’s sugar baby and finish school. Nerves instantly cinched her stomach into a tight, solid ball.

  He set the tea in front of her, eying her curiously.

  She attempted a smile, hoping to cover her mind’s replay of the Saucy Lady video.

  The corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

  Oh, god, he can sense what I’m visualizing.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  She pressed her fingers into the table. “What? Why?”

  “You looked deep in thought when I came over.”

  “Uh, thinking about cellular communication, that’s all. From class this morning. Why? Did you think I was thinking something different?”

  He frowned. “I didn’t know what you were thinking. That’s why I asked.”

  “Right, right, right.” Jeez, I feel like a chipmunk on speed.

  “Although now I’m wondering what it is about cellular communication that has you so twitchy.” He chuckled and settled into his seat, coffee in hand.

  She pressed her lips together, glancing at the ceiling. Don’t think about that video, don’t think about that video, don’t think about…

  “The waiter’s bringing over a pot with the rest of your tea. I couldn’t carry it all.”

  Relieved at the topic change, she nodded, directing her attention at his hand. With her eyes trained on his prosthesis, she stared blankly, seeing nothing, trying to get the nerve to converse. “I’d like to ask you something.”

  His shoulders tightened.

  “Go ahead,” he said, crisply. His gaze shifted to his hand and then back to Effie.

  She swallowed, then paused, as a bored looking waiter placed her teapot in front of her. After he shuffled away, she said, “I…How does one make billions? My parents work and work and barely scrape by.”

  He let out a lungful of air. “That’s what you want to ask me? Aren’t you wondering about my freak hand?”

  She scrunched up her face. “I figure that’s your business. Whatever happened, it couldn’t have been pleasant. Probably pretty devastating. And, I only thought it was a cool hand. You’re pretty nimble with it.”

  His eyes narrowed as if he didn’t believe her.

  She held up her hand. “Physiology geek, here, remember?”

  He picked up his coffee and sipped, studying her. After a moment, he said, “You wondered how I became a billionaire. My dad was a pro racer. If it was fast, he raced it. He went from Hydroplanes to Formula Ones, drag races to motorcycles. Everything he touched, he excelled at. And, he won. He’s generous, my dad is, so he helped me start my company. It’s called EXcape. You heard of it?”

  “No,” she said. The memory of being in the library, the Saucy Lady scene, and Todd and Roy crawled into her head, dragging embarrassment along with it. “Wait. Yes. Isn’t that the company hosting some event called Rocket Fuel Rodeo?”

  “That’s the one.” He smiled, revealing dimples in his cheeks. “Are you going to the event?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Not my thing.”

  “Ah,” he said. He slurped his coffee.

  She took a timid sip of her tea. It tasted fantastic. “Wow, this tea is amazing. I’ve had peppermint tea before, but this is divine.”

  “Duly noted,” he said, one eyebrow cocked.

  Her mobile phone buzzed. It’s probably Haley. Thinking of Haley reminded her of her goal. Sugar Baby. Dance with the enemy. Consort with the depraved. She chewed on her lower lip.

  “I guess we should get this over with. The reason I came to tonight’s event is…I lost my scholarship. This summer is my last semester. I have a full class load and no way can I afford to keep going. And, it feels so stupid being here, asking for money. You seem like a nice guy, and you probably have women all over you. I’m surprised your girlfriend let you come to this event. Unless she doesn’t know.”

  “Right. The purpose of being here.” He leaned forward. A laugh escaped his throat. “I forgot about this thing.” He retrieved the box from his pocket. “It’s been jabbing into my hip ever since I snatched it from the tree. Here.” He extended it across the table.

  “What is it?” she asked, reaching for the glimmering gold box.

  “Don’t know. Let’s see. They’re usually pricey gifts. They give them out to the girls who didn’t make the cut.”

  Any hope she might have held about the night vanished.

  “I see.” She slumped in her chair. Tears stung her eyes, warring with the rage in her belly.

  There goes my education. You’re among the disadvantaged, Effie, don’t forget.

  Suddenly, she wanted to get up from her chair and run, far and fast.

  “This was a stupid idea,” she said, pushing away from the table, eying the doorway.

  It will take approximately twenty-two steps to get to the door.

  �
�Oh, Jesus.” Zander’s expression fell dark. “That came out all wrong. You probably think I’m giving this to you because you didn’t make the cut.”

  Effie nodded, shaking a tear loose. She quickly grabbed a napkin off the table and swiped at her face. Her tears added fuel to her sense of angry humiliation.

  Being poor sucks.

  Zander rose and rushed around to her side of the table, startling her. He took the napkin from her hand and gently wiped her tears away.

  “Forgive me. I grabbed it, thinking about how the club buys all these baubles and they’re usually pretty fantastic. I don’t bow to convention, so I thought it would be a fuck-you statement to the organization…where I used their stupid bauble to seal the deal when I told you I’d be your sugar daddy, or consort, or whatever they call it. I hate the term. Except the phrase ‘sugar baby’ does sound sweet and delicious. And that’s what you remind me of. Something sweet and delicious.”

  She blinked rapidly. “I do?”

  Then, she squinted. Sounds like something a player would say.

  He nodded.

  “And you will? Or, you’ll let me be your sugar companion or whatever?”

  “That’s my plan,” he said, resting one warm hand, and one cool, fake hand on her thighs.

  For a second, she thought he might kiss her.

  Then, he stood. “I have more than enough money to pay your tuition. All you have to do is date me.” A sneer curled his lip. “Because I like to pay for dates. That’s how I get all those women you mentioned to go out with me.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was sarcastic. It sure sounded sarcastic. But, she’d only known him, what…two hours?

  “There are rules to this arrangement.” His jaw turned to stone.

  “I understand.” Her head bobbed up and down.

  “I can’t love you. My heart got crushed to a pulp. So, no love. And, no sex. You’re only to be a companion.” He tapped his fingers on the table, giving her a hard-edged glare.

  “Got it. No love. No sex. Companionship only.” That sounds easy enough. She fiddled with her teacup handle.

  “When I need you, I’ll call. But, please don’t call me unless it’s an emergency. I’m a busy man. I run a billion-dollar business. It takes up most of my time.” He gave her a flinty-eyed stare as if assessing her reaction. “Let’s see what’s in the box.” He inclined his head toward the gold package, then strode to his side of the table.