His Sugar Baby

by Fiona Murphy

  “No, it doesn’t go without saying. I’ve said it before, this is another way of taking care of you. If it means covering tuition for school then that’s what it means.”

  “This is different. Who knows if I’ll even get in. The guy couldn’t have made it clearer he thought I was wasting his time. Okay, fine, I should have maybe known what a book was but not every single person knows what a damned book is. What if he takes a look at my book and thinks it’s crap?”

  I land on the oversized fluffy chair with a thump. In time to see a look ripple across Grant’s face before it’s gone. I’m up again in a flash. “What did you do?” He shakes his head as he tries to walk away. I block his way out of the room. “Grant, tell me what you did.”

  His hand runs through his hair. Oh fuck, I’m not going to like this. “You’ve already been admitted into the program. I wrote a check, it’s done.”

  “You wrote a check?” Fighting the desire to start screaming I want all the facts before I lose it.

  “The same way I wrote a check to Northwestern for the visit and Connie pointing us to Norman. It went to the women’s center by the way. I would have written a bigger check to ensure you got in.

  “I wrote a check when I made the appointment three days ago, it’s already cashed. Don’t, don’t make this bigger than it is. This is the way things happen. Do you seriously think all those rich kids have what it takes to get into Harvard or Yale? Fuck no, their fathers cut a check and buy a new library or swimming pool or whatever it takes to get their precious where they want to go.”

  Even as I don’t want to know I ask. “How much? How big was the check for?”

  Grant shakes his head. “I’m not telling you because it doesn’t matter. If they had wanted twice what I wrote it for I wouldn’t have blinked. This is about making sure you have everything you need to succeed. If you need to go to the school to get the skills you need to become the best, then it’s what you’re going to get.”

  “But I didn’t earn my place there. Oh, no wait, I did. I earned it by giving you the best blow job you’ve ever had.” As last words go I’m not proud of them. I move to find a room to hide in until I can make sense of all the crazy emotions I’m feeling.

  The hand around my arm isn’t gentle, in fact, I know I’ll find a bruise there tomorrow. “I don’t remember telling you you’ve given me the best blow job I’ve ever had, because as good as you are, it’s not the best I’ve ever had.”

  Outrage at his words brings me around as I hear his zipper open, and fuck me, I’m wet at the sound. His grip tightens as he pushes me to my knees. “I’ll give you a chance now to try and beat out the other women.”

  Winding a woman up and sending her to your cock might not have been the smartest thing he could’ve done. Or it might have been the smartest thing he’s ever done. Desperate to make him forget any woman who’s come before me, I use everything I have ever learned to please him. As I do, I remember how, not long ago, I never would have done this for someone else. No matter how often Frank pleaded, I never gave in.

  This man, and only this man, has made me want and need things I never thought I would. It didn’t matter how I got here, I wouldn’t change any of those things. When I allow Grant to come, swallowing the essence of him, he tells me he loves me again. I’m full now, full of him, his love, his care. When he picks me up and takes me to bed I wonder if love might not be such a scary thing after all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I’m late to our squash game, with a smile on my face. Marshall laughs, “I take it this week was a good week.”

  “Hell, yes.” I’m not ready to share the fact I’m in love with Anne yet. She still hasn’t said she feels the same. I bring him up to date on our latest fight instead.

  “Man, you have to be careful with these women. Are you sure paying for her school is a good idea? I mean sending Northwestern a fifty thousand dollar check for a campus visit. How much did you pay to guarantee her spot in the Art Institute?”

  I shrug, “Two hundred and fifty thousand. What, man? Don’t look at me like that, it’s a fucking pittance. I get to call it a donation, it’s a write-off, same with Northwestern. All of it is worth it if it makes Anne happy.”

  “You are putting me in a tough place here man. On one hand you’re over here running all over the city to please her, getting out and shit, which thrills the fuck out of me. Except it’s with a chick you are paying to suck your cock. Do you not see where I’m coming from here, as your best friend?”

  “Actually, I’m not paying her to suck my cock. When we started it was no-go for her. If she can change, then I can change. If you’re having a hard time saying stop, then maybe now is the time to make up your mind.

  “I bought a jet for her, well not in her name or anything, but it’s to travel because she wants to travel. It’s being modified to my specifications as we speak. Delivery is expected next week. Once I get it, we’re out of the city. Rome first, then I’ll take a look at some other places she might want to go.”

  Marshall stops and stares at me. “Are you fucking kidding me, man? You bought a jet? You are going to Rome? Do you even have a passport anymore?”

  I serve, point. “Yes, I have a passport. I get it renewed every seven years.”

  “Jesus, oh man, say it isn’t so. You love her, man. You went and fell in love with her. Are you fucking crazy?”

  I nod, “Maybe I am crazy. She loves me, too. She just has no fucking idea she does.”

  “What? Then I’m sorry bro, she doesn’t, chicks know. Chicks fall in love like that.” He snaps his fingers. “If she loved you she’d be hinting and falling all over herself to tell you she did.”

  “Anne is different, man. I told you she was raised all fucked up.” I hadn’t told Marshall about the escort thing and I never will.

  “Her husband did a number on her, taking off like he did with her and a sick kid. She reads everything from memoirs to westerns but won’t read romance novels or watch romantic movies, she laughs at all of it. She wouldn’t know love if it slapped her in the face. It’s all there, I know, because I recognize her every, ‘oh fucking no’ moment for one I had of my own.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want her fucking you up.”

  “Positive, not a doubt in my mind.”

  Marshall nods, “All right then. Am I going to get to meet this chick before you get married, at least?”

  “No fucking way. I don’t need you scaring the shit out of her with the, don’t hurt my bro speech, you want to give her. I know you’re looking out for me, but no, she startles too easily. Once I get the ring on her, maybe.”

  “You got her a ring? You did! You’d better lock your shit down with an airtight prenup, holy shit. Hell has frozen over and pigs are flying. Have you told her about your parents yet? Might go a little way to showing her what a huge jump this is for you.”

  Shaking my head, I grab my neck. “No, you know I don’t like talking about my parents.”

  “So, what? She’s an open book and you get to stay closed? Not for nothing man, if she doesn’t know what’s made you into who you are, how can you expect her to really feel like she knows you?”

  It doesn’t help he’s right. I still don’t want to talk about my parents. I serve, point. Marshall gives me a look. “Are we playing or not?”

  “Not if you’re going to be an asshole. Has she asked about your parents?”

  “Kind of, not really. She asked me about getting into computers and I told her, and let it go at that. Anne doesn’t ask many questions.”

  “Maybe because she doesn’t feel like she can. We both know you’ve asked her everything down to her first fuck. Chicks don’t feel safe if they don’t feel like they can ask questions.

  “You were the one who felt bad about her not feeling safe enough to make you mad. Maybe you need to give her a little something more to make her feel safe to figure she can love you and her world stays intact.”

  “I fucking told her I love her. I t
ell her all the damned time. I’ve completely changed my life for her. How can she not feel safe with me?”

  “Hell, man, maybe you should just ask her.”

  After our game, Marshall heads in to work and I shower out. I’m too wound up to go home. I walk to my office, instead. If I’m going to be out of the country soon, I should let them know. When I go up, I notice the changes, people are happy. There are a hell of a lot more smiling faces than when Terry was in charge.

  There had, of course, been some backlash among my programmers. A few had been pissed because they felt it should be them or Mi’schelle was too young or didn’t have what it took. I’d lost two programmers, to hell with them. I told Mi’schelle to replace them and move on.

  Through the chat messages, I’d seen there was some catty backlash served up to Mi’schelle directly. She’d handled it like a pro. I was even more impressed at the way she handled it herself without running to me to play interference. I’m happy with her.

  I also like the way she’d picked up the ball and run with it when my own creating had dropped, as I spent more time with Anne and away from the computer. Right now, Mi’schelle was working on an interesting program I’m looking forward to seeing once it’s complete.

  I knock on Mi’schelle’s open door. When she looks up she has the dazed look that tells me I’m interrupting some intense coding. “Want me to swing by on my way out?”

  “No, boss, I’m good now. I’ll get back into it. How you doing? You are looking good, all tanned and smiling. You just get back from some time on the beach or something?”

  I laugh, “No, actually, I just got out of the condo. I am going to be going out of the country, though, in a few days. I’ll be gone for probably a month. In case something comes up, I wanted you to know.”

  “I heard you bought a jet. People damned near lost their minds to hear about you buying a G7. It’s a good thing you’re coming through letting people see you. Some people are thinking you might sell up, with your productivity down and whatnot.”

  “I had no idea word traveled as fast as it appears to. I’m just making time for the woman in my life, like she deserves. While we’re talking about my productivity, I want you to know I appreciate you stepping up.

  “I like where you are going with this latest project. Keep it up, it won’t go unrewarded. You’ve been doing a good job. I’m not worried in the slightest there is anything you can’t handle while I’m gone.”

  She looks stunned, then smiles “Thank you for saying that. I want to make you proud. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “You won’t. I’m going to go check in with Glenda.”

  Glenda takes my news in stride. Me out of the country isn’t much different than me in Chicago for her.

  As much as I try to put it off, I know I need to go home. Marshall’s words won’t leave me, though. I know it’s time to talk to Anne about my parents. What he said hit home, the way I dug into Anne’s past without coming clean about my own wasn’t fair. The reason why I didn’t believe in love, had never wanted to fall in love, yet knew now I was. How, despite all the shit I’d seen, I was going to do everything I could to make what we had work.

  When I get home though, I find Anne in the bath she loves so much. Her eyes light up when she sees me. I’m a coward because when she invites me to join her, I do, telling myself it can wait another day.

  The next day I get the call the jet is ready early, it’s a nice surprise. I pick up the phone to make the call to the de Russie. It goes pretty much how I thought it would, May is a busy time in Rome, for the people smart enough not to go in the middle of summer. The heat in the summer was brutal in Italy. They regret to inform me they don’t have a single room available in the next month.

  I come back with I only want one single room, the Nijinsky suite, and I want it for at least six nights. When he apologizes again I give a dollar amount I’m willing to pay to make it happen. Whether it was to the hotel or the person who had booked the suite was up to them. I give him my credit card number and tell him to give me a call when it was done.

  I make a call to the Four Season in Florence and get pretty much the same story. With a shrug, I tell them I want the Royal Suite and make them the same offer and let them know I’ll be waiting.

  I’m on the computer, trying to decide on the next location, when the de Russie calls me back. There was a booking for eight nights the guest was willing to give up at a cost per night of ten thousand, plus the fifteen thousand of the suite all in euro. I shrug and tell him I accept, to book the room. It wasn’t for another two days though. Everything evens out since the plane was still ready almost a whole week earlier than the date I was given.

  The Four Seasons calls back before I hang up with the de Russie. It’s a new person, they tell me to give them the dates I would like and they’ll confirm it. I do. I have an email confirmation seconds later.

  When I call the Gritti Palace, I let them know I want the Terrazza Redentore Suite for two weeks. They laugh and hang up. I call back and give them my name first, then tell them I want the Terrazza Redentore Suite for two weeks. I make them the same offer I made the other hotels and tell them to call me back when they have an answer I want to hear.

  Alice brings in my snack while I’m waiting for a call back. “In a few days I’m going to be taking Anne on vacation. We won’t be back for a month. Take a vacation yourself, go see your grandkids and piss your daughter off.”

  Her face lights up. “Oh, please don’t get married without me. I don’t want to miss it.”

  “I bought a jet, Alice, maybe you’ll get to see the inside of it. I don’t know. We might come home with nothing more than a good tan. Don’t tell Anne. I want it to be a surprise.”

  “Don’t be so pessimistic, things have a way of working out.”

  While I talk to her, I bring up my bank account and make an extra transfer into Alice’s account for her vacation. If I’m going on vacation, I want to make sure she enjoys herself. But also remembers me fondly enough to come back when it’s over. “I hope so, Alice. I really do.”

  “I’m going to call my daughter now. I think tonight’s dinner will be me trying out the braciole recipe I found. I’ll start the marinara now.”

  The Gritti Palace calls back and confirms the reservation. Everything is in place.

  My cell phone rings and I check, worried one of the hotels has changed something. It’s Marshall. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  “Are you busy? You know what, I don’t care. I need to talk to you. Can you come by now? Like right now?” His voice is practically vibrating with stress.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right over. Give me 10.” I’m heading to my room to get grab a shirt since I’m only in jeans.

  “Thanks, man.” Marshall hangs up.

  Shoving my phone in my pocket, I wonder what’s up with him. He rarely lets anything get to him.

  Anne is on the couch reading, unaware or uncaring that her shirt has moved up and the swell of her round breasts are peeking out. When she sees me she smiles. Until she takes in my concern. “What’s the matter? Are you leaving?”

  Sitting down at the edge of the couch I run a fingertip over her the line between her eyes. “I’m not sure what’s wrong. Marshall is in a mood and he needs to talk. I’m headed over to see him. I shouldn’t be too long, but just in case, don’t wait to eat dinner, okay?”

  “Okay, you’ll be home to make good on those promises you made this morning in the shower, won’t you?” Her hand runs over my cheek as she pulls me down for a kiss.

  Trying to remember my best friend waiting for me, I keep the kiss brief, too brief her pout tells me. “Of course, I won’t be gone that long.”

  As I leave I try not to build up my hopes for our time in Italy. Depending on what’s going on with Marshall I think I’ll ask him what he thinks about how to make sure the trip ends the way I want it to. If he’s as much of a mess at the end, like he sounds like now, I won’t bother him.

&
nbsp; The doorman asks if I want a cab, startling me, I decline. The walk is only a little more than five minutes to Marshall’s place. It’s a smaller five floor building, with an apartment on each floor, on Cedar street. The place is not what I had expected when he bought it almost six years ago. His old place had been a high rise condo like my own. Marshall said he couldn’t take all the glass and chrome, and not being able to open a window.

  He bought the fifth floor and opened it up. There was already a deck opening out from the kitchen and dining area where he had a massive container garden. The garden was his pride, he relied on his housekeeper to keep it alive when he was too busy.

  He added another deck off the master bedroom and put in a hot tub. When he was done I was reminded of a high-end home in suburbia. Not at all the home of a man with his hardline no marriage, or kids decree.

  Marshall buzzes me up and I climb the stairs. His door is open, waiting for me. I go in, finding him on the deck outside staring into his glass. A bottle of scotch that was in the house for Marshall’s dad is open. Before I say a word, he throws back the two fingers, his face contorting at the taste and no doubt burn. Well, hell, this was a big deal. Marshall doesn’t drink, anything, not even a glass of wine.

  I grab the bottle as I sit on the deck chair across from him and wonder what pushed him this far. Was his company in trouble? I can’t imagine the Rachel issue sending him into this state. Before I finish the thought I find I’m wrong.

  “She has a kid. Rachel has a kid, a kid with cancer, a three-year old with cancer. Fuck man, she’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. A mini-me of Rachel, only without the hair just a little fuzz of black hair because of the chemo. She has this smile that lights up her tiny face with these chubby cheek dimples. It’s fucking insane how happy she is plugged into an I.V. It’s so fucking twisted.

  “She lied to me. Rachel fucking lied to me. She wasn’t doing the sugar daddy thing for school. She was doing it to cover her living expenses so she could spend her days with Cara in the hospital.”