Sugar Love

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Sugar Love Page 3

by Andromeda


  "She grew up and looked into the real world," Georgia snaps. "And I think you should do the same thing."

  Rosalinda watches with shock as she then turns on her heel and marches away; she is shaken. What the hell just happened? she wonders to herself. What the hell happened to the girl I had grown up with? The girl that screamed at frogs while I chased after them? The girl that I shared everything with. I guess she grew up.

  She looks at the clock; it's only 11 PM and she’s already ready to leave. That whole thing with Gabriel and Georgia has ruined the mood for whatever could have happened here. Guess she’s not going to Parsons.

  Sighing, she looks around for a way out of here. Georgia is with Gabriel and Aiden is talking to a drop-dead sexy African-American man that could only be his boyfriend. Rosalinda smiles at the sight of the two of them as she’s never seen his boyfriend before. From she can tell, the two of them look so very much in love. She can’t go and ruin their moment so she turns to look for another way out. She is so distracted that she doesn’t see the man walking up to her.

  "How much?" he asks bluntly.

  Rosalinda blinks in surprise. "W...wha...huh?" I stammer.

  "How much for your time?" he asks her. "You can't be worth that much."

  Rosalinda doesn’t know what is more insulting: the fact that he is asking how much her time is, or the fact that he is saying she’s not worth much. "I'm not for sale," she snarls, shoving past him.

  He grabs her arm painfully tight. "Hey! I wasn't done talking to you."

  Rosalinda grunts softly; his grip hurts and she begins to pull her foot back to knee him in the groin when someone grabs his shoulder.

  "The lady said that she wasn't interested," a deep voice says. "I say that's a clear message. Besides, she's taken."

  "Oh yeah?" the man holding Rosalinda growls. "By who?"

  "By me," the man behind him says.

  The man turns around and then the blood drains from his face. "M...Mr. François," he stammers. "I...I'm sorry, I didn't know she was yours."

  The man, François, narrows his eyes. "Well then, now you know. Now beat it."

  The man lets Rosalinda go and runs off as if he's pissed his pants. The man who saved Rosalinda fully turns to look at her, and her jaw almost drops to the ground.

  ❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

  He is the sexiest man she’s ever seen; chocolate brown hair, perfectly tanned skin, and emerald green eyes sparkling at her from behind a white and gold mask. He is dressed in a white suit embroidered with gold patterns, and she has to say that it looks mouthwatering on him.

  Mouthwatering? Rosalinda repeats in her mind. Damn, when did I get so thirsty?

  Alphonse notices how she is looking at him and rolls his eyes. "Geeze, are you like all those other girls who throw themselves at my feet?"

  That snaps Rosalinda out of her lust-crazed trance. "Excuse me?"

  Alphonse waves his hand dismissively. "You know what, whatever. So, how do you plan to thank me?"

  Strike one. "Excuse me?!" she exclaims before mumbling in Spanish of the different ways she could thank him using two things: her foot and his ass.

  Alphonse arches an eyebrow. "Ohhhh, a Mexican ehh? I haven't had one of those before..."

  Strike two. “And you're not going to get this one!" Rosalinda snarls. She reaches for the nearest thing and, finding a glass of champagne, throws it in his face. "And by the way, I'm Puerto Rican!"

  Lifting my dress, she marches off fuming; if smoke could come out of her ears, it would! How dare he, how dare that man before him? Is that all they think women are? Items to be bought and sold for their pleasure? Is this what I'm getting into? Hello no, I'm not!

  A hand on her shoulder makes her spin around, and she sees that it's Alphonse who has followed her. The front of his jacket is stained with the champagne she had thrown at him and she can't help but smirk.

  "What do you want?" she snaps, crossing her arms.

  "You interest me," Alphonso says. "No woman has ever resisted me like that."

  "Well then, take notice," Rosalinda hisses. "Because there is no way that I'd be interested in you after what you just did."

  He puts a hand in his pocket and then smiles softly. "Well, I do have one thing you are interested in."

  "And what is that?" Rosalinda asks, arching an eyebrow.

  "Money,” Alphonse says matter-of-factly.

  Strike three. "What makes you think I want your money!" Rosalinda whisper-yells. "You know what you, men are all the same! Using women for your own gain and then breaking our hearts when you tire of us! You don't care about the broken hearts that you leave behind, the pain that we feel..."

  Rosalinda turns away so that he doesn't see the tears forming in her eyes as she is talking about herself, about the hurt that she’s suffered at the hands of men; all the broken promises that she’s held in her heart...she can't do it anymore.

  "I didn't come here to just take a man’s money," she says firmly. "I am here for my family. I got enrolled into Parsons but found out that the tuition is over 40-thousand a term. There is no way I can afford that."

  "How did you expect to go to a school like Parsons and not pay the tuition?" Alphonse asks, intrigued.

  Rosalinda sighs softly with a shrug. "I dunno, scholarships, student aid, something. But it was a special application process and when I asked about financial help, it was way past the deadline." She pauses. "I have always wanted to be a designer since I was a little girl. And when I found out that I had gotten into Parsons, I was overjoyed because I knew I could get into a paid internship position quickly, and I would send the money to my family in Miami. My grandparents are watching my kids for me right now, but...they need financial help."

  Alphonse listens to how she talks about her children, her family, and as much as he tries to not feel anything, it strikes a chord in his head. Turning to a table next to them, he picks up a glass of champagne and sips it slowly. His brow furrows as if deep in thought, and then he sighs. "Alright."

  Rosalinda arches an eyebrow. “What?"

  "Alright, I'll take you on," Alphonse says.

  "Take me on?" she repeats.

  Alphonse pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters under his breath in French about incompetent women. "What I mean," he says slowly, making sure Rosalinda understands every word. "Is that I will take you on as my...girlfriend."

  Rosalinda blinks, connecting the words: girlfriend is code for sugar baby. She nibbles on her lip, knowing that new next words will change her life forever. "A...alright," she stammers.

  Alphonse nods. "Good. I will take you out this Saturday afternoon for lunch; where do you live?" Rosalinda tells him the address of Georgia's condo and he nods again. "My driver will pick you up there and take you to a restaurant for us to talk."

  Rosalinda nods and Alphonse’s green eyes rake up and down her person, taking her all in. She really is a beautiful woman, biracial with what can only be Hispanic and African-American. Everything about her is the perfect shade of caramel brown, from her eyes to her hair and skin.

  "Have a good night, Ms...you know, I don't believe I know your name," Alphonse says.

  "Rosalinda Domínguez," Rosalinda answers. "But I go by Rose."

  "Alphonse François," Alphonse says with a dip of his head. He looks her over again. "I hope you will not disappoint me, mademoiselle.”

  Rosalinda feels a shudder shoot up her spine as his accent seems to wash over her and she bites her lip. "And I hope I don't either...for my children's sake."

  Alphonse nods again, turns on his heel, and walks away. The rest of the night goes by in a blur and it's 3 AM before anyone tries to leave. Georgia and Aiden find Rosalinda and they all leave together. In the car, Georgia begs for her forgiveness, swearing that she's sorry and didn't mean a word that she said. Rosalinda gives her forgiveness, of course, but that man Gabriel disturbs her. She doesn’t know what it is, but he makes her skin crawl just by being in his presence.

  "Did
you meet anyone?" Georgia asks as they are getting ready for bed.

  "I...I think so," Rosalinda stammers. "He wants to take me out Saturday for lunch to talk."

  Georgia takes her hands and looks at her seriously. "You cannot let him take advantage of you," she says firmly. "You both have to come to an agreement and you make sure your voice is heard. If he wants you, then you have to make him fight to have you at his side, ok?"

  Rosalinda nods slowly, taking this all in. This is all so new to her and she has absolutely zero idea at what she’s doing, but her mission is clear though: get money to go to Parsons so that she can get into their paid internship programs to send money for her family. They deserve so much, having gone through hell in back these early years; they are still young and can have a new start, and if it means she has to be the pretend girlfriend of a man, then so be it. A mother would do anything for her child.

  Chapter Five

  Alphonse taps his fork nervously against his glass softly as he waits for his date to walk through the door. However, he frowns when he realizes what he’s doing and drop the fork. What the hell is wrong with me? he wonders to himself. She's just a woman, right?

  A woman you've never met before, his subconscious says to him.

  His mind can't help but go back to the ball a couple days ago, how he first saw her. He originally was going to walk on by but when he heard the voice of the man grabbing her, he knew that he had to intervene.

  He has to admit, he was taken aback by her bold and feisty spirit, and even then he grew aroused just looking at her. He is used to women being willing, wanting to spend his time and her money all at the same time; but she seems insulted that he even suggested such a thing and when she threw that drink at him, he knew that he to have her. Call him deeply curious, but there is something about this woman.

  He couldn't get her out of her mind; even when he tried to sleep, she showed up in his dreams. Immediately, he went to work researching about this Rosalinda Domínguez to see if her stories were true about getting into Parsons and having two children back in Miami. He has heard these kind of stories before and they all turned out to be lies, so he had a private investigator to look into her past and finds out she was telling the truth. She is a recently-accepted applicant to Parsons and she does have two young children, a boy and a girl.

  Once his suspicions are put down, he gets to work on the contract that he’s sure will benefit the both of them, but as he sits in his chair shifting in his leather jacket and scratching his ankle behind his boots, he has to admit he is nervous. For some reason, being alone with this woman makes him feel nervous, and he’s never nervous. He is Alphonse François, the greatest name in the world of fashion; he knows what is in style before it even comes in style, and this woman, this nobody from Miami, is making him nervous. It's laughable.

  A ding behind him signals someone has just walked in and when he turns around, he sees that it’s her: Rosalinda. Alphonse’s eyes roam over her, taking in her outfit ; a halter-style dress with teal and peach floral designs, peach-colored wedge sandals, a pearl necklace, jean jacket, and a peach beach-like purse.

  The whole outfit looks almost completely foreign here in Manhattan seeing that it's the middle of August and they are getting ready for winter, and yet it fits her. Alphonse is guessing in Miami they don't really have a winter, so they dress in bright floral patterns all the time. Her hair is loose and he smiles to himself when he sees that she is wearing it natural, the wild curls flopping over her eyes and fall down her back. When Rosalinda sees him, she walks over and he can see that she too is nervous.

  Alphonse clears his throat and gestures to the seat across from him. "Please, be seated," he says. "We have much to talk about."

  Rosalinda slowly takes a seat, trying to calm down her furiously beating heart. The moment she does, however, a waitress appears, a skinny blond woman with fake breasts and an even faker blond hair dye job. She looks from Alphonse to Rosalinda and then to Alphonse again. A smile that Alphonse knows all too well forms on her lips and he has to try to stop himself from rolling his eyes. When it comes to his relationships, when he has them, he tries to be faithful—try being the keyword.

  "Welcome to Sheraton's," the Waitress says. "I'm Mallory, how might I be of service to you?" She tries to have a sultry voice, but it comes out as a half-assed attempt.

  "A bottle of your best wine," Alphonse says coolly.

  Mallory writes that down and then turns to Rosalinda. "And you? Do you want iced tea or Kool-Aid?"

  Rosalinda's nostrils flare as she tries to hold in her temper. "Excuse me?"

  "We don't have Kool-Aid, if that's what you want," Mallory continues. "But I'm sure we can make up some iced tea for you."

  Rosalinda stands to her feet; she wants to leap across the table to beat the crap out of her, but she fights to hold it back.

  "You are lucky that I'm trying to act like a lady or else I could come on over there and pop those fake boobs, or tear out that fake ass weave you got in your head! Now, be a good little waitress and take our orders; for all you know, I would be a millionaire and would want to buy this shop. Do you know what I would do if I did? Fire your ass on the spot.”

  Mallory's jaw drops and Alphonse has to smirk to himself. He’ll give Rosalinda some credit; she handled that situation well and Mallory gulps like a drowning fish and takes out her notepad.

  "Can I take your order?"

  ❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

  Rosalinda sips her wine and then looks at Alphonse. "This is a nice restaurant."

  "Thank you," he says, crossing his fingers over each other. "Now, shall we get to work?" Bending over the side of the table, he reaches for his briefcase and takes out a stack of papers. "This in our contract," he explains, handing it to her. "Inside, I'm sure you'd find everything to your standards.”

  After doing his research on her, Alphonse makes the contract based on her needs. First, he makes an account in her name and put $100,000 in it to start with. She will get a $15,000 allowance every month, and he will send $10,000 every month to her family in Miami. He will pay for her tuition at Parsons and she will get her own apartment and car, but will have to pay the rent, utilities, and car note. Even though he will buy the car in the beginning, he will transfer ownership to her if they ever happen to break up. Her side of the deal is time: the only thing she would have to do is be at his side at events and do what he says.

  Rosalinda looks over the contract and raises an eyebrow. "And this is all valid?" she asks. "What if I wish to break the contract?"

  "Break the contract and you go on your way," Alphonse says simply; he tried to make the contract as simple as he could. "The money in the account is in your name and you can do with it whatever you will. You also get to keep the car."

  Rosalinda looks through the contract, finding everything satisfactory until she gets to the almost-last page and her heart freezes in her chest. "Erm...what’s this about sex...?"

  "What about it?" Alphonse asks.

  "When would we have it?" she asks.

  Alphonse rubs his chin. "Well...I would want you to be willing so I will wait for you to be ready. However, know that once we do, I expect it...once a week, maybe twice."

  "Twice a week?!" she gasps.

  "And I don't do condoms," he says simply.

  "And what if I got pregnant?" she snaps.

  Alphonse shrugs. "Then you get rid of it, it's very simple."

  Rosalinda frows and then she narrows her eyes. "I better get on birth control then."

  Alphonse nods to her. "Good girl."

  Rosalinda tries to keep herself from throwing the contract in his face, but she knows that she needs this to help her family. Alphonse watches her; he doesn’t know what the big deal is about the child. It’s simple for her to get rid of it if they catch it quick enough. Don’t get him wrong, he likes children; he just doesn’t want any more. He’s been through this matter before and is paying for his mistakes now.

  After a
couple of moments, Rosalinda sighs. "How can I refuse? Do you have a pen?"

  Alphonse takes one out and hands it to her, watching as she writes out her name.

  "Good," he says, taking the papers. "And let me give you this first gift."

  Taking out a small box, he hands it to her and she opens it, revealing a Samsung Galaxy.

  "Why not an iPhone?" she asks.

  Alphonse shrugs. "Everyone has Apple and I like to be different." He raises his glass. "Shall we toast to her new contract?"

  Rosalinda raises her glass and clinks it against his. Why does she feel as if she’s made a deal with the devil?

  Chapter Six

  "Gigi, what do you think?" Rosalinda asks as she holds up a dress.

  Georgia looks at the green dress and frowns, shaking her head. "Green isn't your color," she says. "Red is."

  Rosalinda can’t help but laugh. Growing up, people have always told her that scarlet red will forever be her only and color. She can pull pink off every now and then, but her color will always be red. Secretly, she’s always liked the color, no matter what the reputation it has. It also helps that her nickname is Rose.

  "Ok then, I'll get the red one," she says, picking up an identical dress that is red. "You see anything that you want?" she asks, looking through another rack.

  Georgia shrugs. "Well yeah, but...you can't be spending this for me, Rose."

  "Gigi, it's my treat," Rosalinda says firmly. "Go ahead and pick anything you want."

  "You know you have yet to tell me who your...boyfriend is," Georgia says, looking at a blue and white floral print pantsuit.

  "Because I'm still testing the waters out myself," Rosalinda says with a shrug. "I mean...things are still new, I only signed that contract like two weeks ago."

  After signing that contract, things have gone by fast for Rosalinda. Alphonse takes her shopping in order to make her presentable at his side. They look at apartments, cars, furniture, and so forth; he gives her a credit card linked to her account that was already full of money. The only thing he didn't go shopping for with her for are clothes; instead, he gives her a list of what he expects her to have.

 

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