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Sugar Daddies(5)
Author: Jade West


“How long are you willing to commit?”

I drank the rest of my water. “I’m unsure… I was thinking a few months. Maybe six?”

“Six months works. We can talk again after six. Renegotiate the arrangement. Iron out any issues.”

There was an edge to his words that sent a shiver up my spine. A brooding heaviness, and it felt so ominous.

Rick piped up, his tone light. “Of course we’ll talk,” he said. “Often. Nothing is set in stone, we’re people, right?” He laughed. “This thing isn’t going to be signed in blood. We can be flexible; make sure everyone’s happy.”

Carl pulled out a mobile phone. “So, what are you hoping for in terms of the financials, Katie? Do you have a figure in mind?”

I suddenly felt dirty, and fought back the nerves. Money. I hate talking about money. “I’m really not sure… do you?”

“We paid our last companion two grand a month, but she only did one weekend out of every two. She had children.”

Their last companion. Nothing like making a girl feel special. I brushed it aside. “That’s… generous. Very generous.”

“Not that generous. You should hold out for three.”

I forced a smile. “Maybe I will.”

Rick reached out, put a hand on my arm. “We’re more than happy to give you three.”

Three grand a month. My legs were shaking. I could do a lot with three grand a month… If I kept my waitressing job, just weeknights… I could have saved enough in six months, enough for everything, or at least a shot.

My voice came out raspy. “What would you expect for three grand a month?”

The air felt heavy until Carl answered. “Three weekends out of four, ideally. A sunny disposition at all times. And sex. Lots of sex.”

“I can do that.” I wished I was as sure as I sounded, but three grand would make me sure.

“Fine.” Carl tapped at his phone. “What’s your email address?”

“Katie S loves horses at gmail dot com.”

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment. “Sent.”

My phone buzzed in my handbag and I pulled it out. Email. You received a payment from Carl Brooks. Click to accept. I clicked and there was £1000 waiting for me, just like that. My heart stuttered. I had to work weeks for that kind of cash in my regular jobs. I tried to keep a poker face. “Great. Thank you.”

“That’s just for this weekend,” he said. “If you want to stay, that is.”

Rick’s hand was on my wrist again. “You don’t have to stay, Katie. Really. Don’t feel obligated. And if you do, there is a spare room, plenty of spare rooms… we’ve got more spare rooms than you can shake a stick at.”

“I’ll stay,” I said, even though my nerves were skyrocketing. I had an overnight bag in the car, just in case. I looked straight at Carl, begging my heart to still. “Do you want to… shall I, um… now?” I reached around for the zip on my dress, cheeks burning.

The look he shot me was full of shock, and even a little indignation. “No,” he said. “You don’t seem cheap enough to spread your legs the moment the cash comes out, and we’re certainly not cheap enough to take it that way.”

I felt strangely taken aback. “I just thought… sorry…”

His eyes were so hard. “You’re not a prostitute, Katie. I don’t expect you to drop your knickers the minute you walk through the door.”

I shrivelled under his glare, turning into a gawky little girl. “I thought that maybe… sorry, I misunderstood.”

Rick groaned, loud enough to get our attention. “Drinks, please…” he said. “For fuck’s sake, let’s get a fucking beer. Jesus Christ.”

He didn’t even wait for affirmation, just took himself through to the kitchen.

I was pleased to follow him.


The atmosphere changed in the kitchen. The air felt lighter, and the evening sun lit up the room through the huge townhouse windows. Rick pulled out a beer and offered me one, but Carl was already at the wine rack, pulling out a bottle of red and holding it up for my approval.

“A good year,” he said, and uncorked. He poured, and I caught a heady whiff of fruit.

I took my glass and swirled the wine around, took a sniff. “Nice.”

A thousand pounds richer. I couldn’t quite believe it. Real money. In my account. I smiled, and I meant it, and then I drank down a large enough glug of my wine that Carl smirked at me.

Rick hitched himself onto the marble counter, tapping his brogues against the cabinet underneath. “We got off to a weird start,” he said. “We’re really not that bad, I promise. We’re pretty laidback.”

I didn’t quite believe him, but I smiled anyway. “You have a wonderful place.”

“That’s down to Rick,” Carl said. “He’s the designer.”

Rick looked out of the window rather than soak up the praise. “You want anything here, just help yourself. Feel at home. We want you to be comfortable here, don’t we, Carl?”

Carl sighed, eyes heavy as they met mine. “Yes, yes.” He tipped his head towards Rick. “He’s a free spirit, man. Rick is all about ambience, and communication, and…” He reached behind him and jabbed at some weird grill like contraption. “…shrivelled up tofu crackers. He’s quite the hippy.”

“Dehydrated,” Rick groaned. “They’re dehydrated.”

“Whereas I’m a little more, direct. I like to be direct.”

No shit. I knocked back some more wine. “What else do you do? For fun?”

“Work,” Carl said. “We work a lot. Work hard. Work smart. Other than that we watch movies, hit the occasional club, hit the occasional tennis court, too. We have a gym in the basement, and a sauna and Jacuzzi. It makes working out a little easier. How about you?”

Wine made me brave enough to show myself. “I ride,” I said. “Horses. Well, one horse. Samson.” I fought back the urge to whip out the gallery app on my phone and bore them with ten thousand pictures. Now really wasn’t the time.

They both nodded, a look passing between them.

“Makes sense,” Carl said. “The horsey type, yes. Very good.”

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