Sugar Love

by Callie Bardot

  Effie glanced at Zander.

  “He said you’re enchanting,” Zander said. “You are.”

  A blush formed on her lovely cheeks.

  “Right this way,” Tony said. “Whatever you want to have tonight is yours. Let this be the night of nights.”

  If only that were true. Wistfulness filled Zander’s heart.

  Tony led them to a private dining area that overlooked the sea. He held out a chair for Effie at the white-tablecloth covered table.

  A single rose perched in a white vase.

  She settled in her chair, looking across at Zander with such a tender expression, he could barely breathe.

  Zander took his seat.

  Outside, the sky appeared dusky with the promise of sunset.

  “What can I get you while you look at the menu?”

  “Whiskey, neat,” Zander said. “What would you like Effie?”

  “Not sure,” she said, casting her gaze toward her lap.

  “Do you like wine, Ms. D’Archangel?”

  She lifted her face toward Tony. “Yes.”

  “I have a Masseto that’s divine.” He kissed his fingertips. “It’s one of the best Italian wines available. Can I bring you a taste?”

  “Yes, please,” she said, smiling.

  “Excellent.” Tony beamed.

  A few minutes later Tony returned with their drink order. He placed them on the table and said, “Your waiter will be right in. I’d take him up on the specials. Eat to your heart’s content. Tonight is a night for amore.” His eyes sparkled as he looked knowingly at Zander. “Enjoy,” he said, sweeping the air with his palm. Then, he turned and strode away, closing the door to their dining area.

  “Of course. Amore,” Zander said with forced enthusiasm. His heart grew heavy. He wanted the night to be about love. Instead, it seemed to be another fantasy…an unfinished story that should have been so beautiful.

  Swallowing back his sorrow, Zander lifted his glass and gazed into Effie’s eyes. “This trip has meant the world to me. Thank you.”

  She swallowed. “Thank you, too.” She sipped her wine.

  He took a drink of his whiskey, then let his eyes linger on her beautiful throat and shoulders. He wanted to memorize how she looked…to capture it in his soul as a reminder of…of what, exactly? What could have been?

  Effie turned her attention out the window.

  “This is so beautiful.”

  Her gaze tracked the ocean view outside the window. She reached for her wine glass and sipped her Masseto.

  “Not as beautiful as you,” he said.

  She straightened her blue and white place-mat, her mouth pursed in a rosebud. “Zander, I…”

  “What?” He eyed her speculatively.

  The waiter interrupted, saying, “May I share our specials for tonight?”

  “Of course,” Zander said, before lifting his white linen napkin from the side of his plate, shaking it out with a snap, and placing it in his lap.

  Effie did the same.

  The waiter blah blahed through his spiel, while Zander simmered with his tortured thoughts.

  Several minutes after their order had been placed, another waiter, a redheaded woman, arrived with their appetizers—Mussels steamed in white wine, lemon, and garlic. In her free hand, she held tongs and a silver spoon.

  “Can I get you anything else? More wine for you, miss?” the skinny waiter said.

  “No, thank you,” Effie said, smiling.

  He hurried away, and the redhead sat the plate of mussels on the center of the table. She deftly used the silver tongs to place a few mussels onto small blue appetizer plates, then gently rested one plate in front of Effie and the other in front of Zander. Then, she used the spoon to scoop some of the broth from the bowl and drizzle it on the mussels. With a curt nod, she departed.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had mussels before,” Effie said. “How does this work?”

  Zander smiled. “Well, you take this small fork…” He lifted his outer fork.

  She picked her fork up, holding it high in her slender fingers.

  “Ready with my tool,” she said, chuckling.

  “Then, you pick up a mussel shell.” He plucked one off the plate.

  She selected one of the inky dark shells in front of her. She held it before her kissable mouth. “And?”

  He inserted the fork into the shell. “Spear the meat inside.”

  She speared, lifting the morsel toward her luscious lips.

  The fragrant broth juices dripped onto her plate.

  “Dip it in the broth and eat it. The shell goes into the bowl.” He tipped his head back and inserted the forked meat. “Mmm.”

  She studied him intently, her blue eyes dark.

  “I think I can do that.” She dipped the mussel into the delicious-smelling broth and tipped her head back, opening her mouth.

  Zander swallowed. His cock twitched. Damn, she’s sexy. His tongue darted over his lips as she slowly lowered the fork to her mouth.

  She brought her lips together, closed her eyes and moaned. “Mmm. This is exquisite.”

  Jesus. His erection pulsed inside his slacks. “You can also try this technique.”

  She opened her eyes and studied him with a feverish gaze. “I’m listening.”

  “Pick up the shell, bring it to your lips, and suck the tender flesh.” His cock grew rigid inside his pants.

  He let his tongue flick the mussel as if it were Effie’s clit.

  “Oh, God, Zander,” she said, fanning herself with her hand.

  A slow smile crossed his face. “First you flick and then you suck.” He slurped the meat into his mouth. “Mmm.” He savored the mussel, then said, “Your turn.”

  A matching smile spread across her beautiful face. “I see. First, I flick.” She held a mussel shell in front of her sumptuous lips. Her pink tongue slid from between her teeth, and she lapped at the flesh.

  “Jesus Christ,” Zander said, his cock throbbing inside his pants. He straightened his trousers, then pressed his palms against the table.

  “And, then, when the flesh is engorged, I suck.” She placed her mouth at the opening of the shell and sucked.

  “God damn, I don’t think I’m going to last at this rate,” Zander said.

  Effie kicked her shoe off under the table and placed her foot on his crotch.

  Zander hissed.

  She set the shell down, and let her head fall back.

  “Oh, God, this is the best one yet,” she moaned. “Mmm. Mm-hmm.”

  Zander felt ready to come on the spot. Placing his hand on the foot that sat between his legs, he blinked a few times and said, “I think you’ve mastered this one.”

  She laughed. “What next, oh, great teacher?” She rubbed her foot up and down his length. “This is only the first course, is it not?”

  An intrusive ding came from her purse.

  “Are you going to check that?” he said.

  “Whatever it is, it can wait. The only person who ever texts me is Haley. She’ll understand.”

  They finished their seductive mussel dish and proceeded to the lobster bisque brought out by the waitstaff, followed by broiled lobsters, glistening with butter and fragrant with garlic. By the time they got to the chocolate mousse, Zander was ready to lock the doors, lay Effie out on the table, and fuck her hard.

  As he gazed down at the mousse in front of him, he opened his mouth to beg her to be with him. Fuck contract language and his own goddamned insecurities. He wanted to take a chance with Effie and explore every possibility of finding true love.

  She interrupted him. “I want to ask you something.”

  “What is it?” He smiled, promising the world to her.

  “Our contract is nearly over.” She inhaled sharply. Tears filled her eyes. “I’m going to miss you so much. Are you sure we have to end what we started?”

  He should have said something like, “Hell, no, not what I want,” or, “Where would you like our relationsh
ip to go? Because I’d like so much more.” Instead, he sat, stupefied, like an oncoming train headed in his direction at a million miles an hour. Answer her, idiot. Give her the declaration of love and wanting something more.

  Trisha flashed through his brain, saying, “What makes you think she wants you? You’re still nothing but a cripple. I’ll bet she feels sorry for you.” Then, a more sinister thought apprehended his brain. He imagined Trisha saying, “She’s a dead woman, Zan, if she thinks she’ll be with you.”

  He pursed his lips and said, “What do you mean?”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “It’s a simple question. We’ve gone far off the rails from the sugar baby, sugar daddy dynamic…from our contract with all its rules.”

  A killer, meant-to-seduce smile crossed her gorgeous face, blinding him.

  He couldn’t risk losing her to Trisha’s insanity. He had to get Trisha out of the way before any declarations of love.

  His cock begged to differ. Ever since the appetizers, it had been straining so hard against his slacks he figured his pants were split in the front or would be soon. His heart was another matter. To say it ached was an understatement.

  Another ding came from Effie’s phone. She frowned. Three more dings followed. Her frown deepened.

  “Sorry for the buzz kill. I should have turned it off. I’m not used to being texted a lot.” She flashed him a saucy grin.

  “Go ahead and check it. It could be important.” And this gives me time to collect my thoughts. He lifted his wine glass to his lips and drained it.

  She plucked her purse from its perch on the chair back and fished inside for her phone. When she scanned the screen, her thumb moved fast and furious, apparently scrolling through a lot of messages.

  She lifted her gaze to look at him. Her eyes were as wide as the moon outside the window. “Oh no.”

  “What’s wrong? What is it?” He grabbed his phone from his shirt pocket, ready to call 911 or a lawyer or someone else to fix whatever had distressed her.

  “Zander, look…” She held the screen up to him.

  He snatched it out of her hand. All the sexy banter and the confusion at his inability to answer her question and the declarations of love he’d wanted to share emptied from his body. He stared, in horror, at the TMZ news piece, showing him and Effie at the sugar baby ball.

  Exclusive! He read. Did you think it was true love? Think again. Zander’s play toy is his sugar baby! So THAT’s how she pays for her pricey education.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s just gossip, Effie. Don’t pay it any mind.” He looked at Effie’s face, drained of all color.

  She kept stared through him, her eyes glazed.

  “Baby, we can fix this,” he said, his eyes drawn back to the screen display in his hand. The next headline slammed into him like a punch to the stomach.

  We’ve got the exclusive. What really happened to the TrishBitch and the God of the Wall? You’re not going to believe how it ended. Stay tuned for the full, exclusive story.

  He slumped in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. Oh, my fucking God. My secret’s about to be revealed. And Trisha’s no doubt to be blamed. She wants war? She’s going to get it.

  Chapter 40

  Effie

  On the flight back to Seattle, sitting in Zander’s private jet, Effie alternated between numb and hysterical. She huddled on one of the plush leather seats near the front, unable to tear her eyes from the phone screen.

  Her social media was rapidly being populated with cutting remarks, sexual invitations, snarky comments, and outright bully tactics. Several men offered to “friend” her on her social profile and buy her dinner in exchange for sex. She declined each one. Some of her classmates, who she’d once friended out of desperation as not to feel like a total loser with only one friend, accused her of being a gold-digger. Others said she was too lazy to work for her education. She un-friended them. A few rebels asked for info about the next sugar baby party, saying they’d sure like a sugar daddy.

  Unfriend, unfriend, unfriend.

  Haley, bless her, kept up an ongoing rant against those who wished Effie harm or accused her of “using the system,” whatever that meant. She tried comebacks like, Oh, come on. You know how much our education costs. Give Effie a break. Then, she finally resorted to Fuck off. Hypocrite. Get a life. You’d do it if you were pretty enough.

  Zander spoke to Kent on the phone. He hid at the far end of the jet, in an office with the door closed. He probably thought she couldn’t hear him.

  She wished she couldn’t hear him. His stressed-out voice boomed over the engine noise.

  “So, how are our stocks? Holding steady?”

  A pounding sound, like a solid thwack against wood with his high-tech-hand, made Effie jerk.

  “Fuck! We’re dropping? This is so fucking stupid. My private life is my business. Yeah? And who the fuck leaked our secret? Has it come out yet?” An eerie silence, like the calm before the storm, snaked through the plane. An explosive clatter followed, like Zander had swept the desk of everything it held.

  “Who do you think is responsible for this? It’s got to be Trisha.” He listened for a few seconds then said, “Keep me posted. Do whatever you can to quash it. I don’t care how much it costs, do you hear me? Stop the fucking story. Okay. Right. Right. Okay. Later.” The office door slid open and he stalked out of the office. “I’m sorry for all the calls. My business is collapsing.” He eyed the device in her hand. “You should stop looking at your phone.”

  She gazed at him, trying hard not to cry. She’d been teased most of her life. But, it was one thing to be called a geek and a brain case. Most of the time, that kind of insult rolled off her back. But to call me a gold-digger? A manipulative user? Too lazy to work for my education? People can be horrible.

  Zander stared blankly into space, his lips parted. He blinked, emerging from his trance and his forefinger flew across his mobile phone screen. Then, he held the phone to his ear. “Bryant. Where’s Trisha? Let me speak to her.” He held the phone away from his face and stared at it. “You fucking hung up on me? You asshole.” He punched the wall of the jet with his bio-hand. It made a dull clanging noise. “Fuck!”

  Effie had never seen Zander so angry. Her stomach flipped and flopped like a writhing, dying beast.

  He looked over at her, anguish etching fissures in his face. “Look. Effie. A, um, a story’s going to come out…” He paused, massaging his cheeks with his hand. “I’ve got to keep you safe. That’s paramount. I’m going to hire security to watch you.”

  A cascade of chills rippled across her scalp. “Security?” she whispered. “What for?”

  He paced to where she sat and opened his mouth to speak when his phone rang again. He held up one finger to her as he answered the phone, striding in the opposite direction.

  “What?” he blurted into the device.

  Effie’s ring tone sounded. She glanced down at the screen. My mother. No way am I going to answer that. She turned off the phone and slumped in her seat, hugging herself. Tears began to pour from her eyes. This is awful. And what’s this story?

  She closed her eyes, lay her head back against the cushy headrest, and silently wept.

  A warm body—Zander—sat next to her. He pushed one arm behind her neck. The other wrapped around her torso. “Don’t cry, baby. This will all blow over. It’s just a setback.”

  His words didn’t sound convincing.

  She opened her eyes and stared at him. “Don’t you get it? This is my worst nightmare. Being found out. Being exposed. You should hear what people are saying about me. It’s awful.”

  “Shh,” Zander said. He smoothed her messy hair away from her face and gazed into her eyes. “We’ll get through this. Don’t worry. I’m sorry you had to see me rage. I don’t usually lose my cool like that.” He kissed away her tears.

  “You have your own woes. Is your business going to be okay?” Effie sob-spoke. “And what’s this story?”

  “Don�
��t you worry about me,” Zander said, ignoring the question about the story. “You met my dad. I come from sturdy stock.” He smiled.

  Effie chuckled through her tears. “Right. He looks like a tough guy. Like that tattoo on his arm of a buxom babe inside a race car. Your mom must have been upset when he got that tattoo.”

  Zander laughed, letting a glimmer of lightness drift into the room. “Who do you think the babe is? It’s Mom in her younger days. She was quite a looker.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “But, she doesn’t hold a candle to you.” He thumbed away her tears. His ringtone sounded again. “Let me see who that is. I’ll be back, promise.” After thumbing the screen, he put the phone to his ear and said, “Tom. Talk to me.”

  Effie hunched into herself and stayed quiet the rest of the way, shut-down, empty and alone while Zander fought his fires. At one point, she wandered to the bedroom and lay down. There, she dozed fitfully on the red-eye flight home.

  In the waxing light of dawn, she awoke, her eyes swollen, her mouth dry, and her heart as heavy as stone.

  Zander sat in one of the chairs near the bed, holding his head in his hands.

  In a groggy voice, she said, “Did you get any sleep?”

  He lifted his head and flashed her a sorrowful gaze. “No. This thing has gone viral. The story is everywhere. It’s taken on epic proportions, moving backward in time. Now I’m the philanderer who’s stepping out on my loving girlfriend, Trisha, with the…” He rolled his lips between his teeth and shook his head.

  “With the what?” Effie said, sitting forward.

  “It’s nothing. It’s all lies.” He rose as if to walk away. “We’re going to touch down soon. Let’s get buckled up, okay?” He spoke in a robotic tone.

  “With the what, Zander? Tell me.” Her whole body set on fire with anger and a sense of injustice. She clenched her hands.

  “I’d rather not say,” he said, wearily.

  “I’d rather not be in this situation. Tell me,” Effie said, blinking back tears of rage.

  “With the, um…” He looked away. “With the hashtag Giant Box Savings whore. It’s all lies, you know that.”