Sugar Sweet

by Christine d'Abo

  Praise for Christine d’Abo

  30 Days

  “Well-developed and engaging characters, major and minor, lead to conflicts that feel both realistic and fresh, and difficult subjects are handled with empathy and gentle humor. Romance fans will delight in this sweet and spicy expedition.”

  —Publishers Weekly STARRED REVIEW

  “Perfect for folks seeking a well-written, hot read with substance.”

  —Library Journal, STARRED REVIEW

  “Christine D’Abo crafts a rare treat in 30 Days, a book that’s equal parts sexy and heartwarming, fun and deeply emotional. Bravo!”

  —New York Times bestselling author J. Kenner

  30 Nights

  “D’Abo turns up the heat and promises a fast-moving and fun story capable of making one swoon with delight and sigh with pleasure. Readers will get a kick out of Glenna and Eric’s out-of-this-world chemistry, but will be even more entertained watching them try and hold back their true feelings for each other.”

  —RT Book Reviews, 4 Stars

  “Steamy…Delightfully stimulating and kinky…Well worth reading.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  Also by Christine d’Abo

  30 Days

  30 Nights

  Submissive Seductions

  Sugar Sweet

  Christine d’Abo

  LYRICAL PRESS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  LYRICAL PRESS BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2018 by Christine d’Abo

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Lyrical Press and Lyrical Press logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  First Electronic Edition: July 2018

  eISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0613-4

  eISBN-10: 1-5161-0613-X

  First Print Edition: July 2018

  ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-0616-5

  ISBN-10: 1-5161-0616-4

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  For Mark.

  Through the ups and downs we’ve faced, I love knowing you’re always by my side.

  Acknowledgments

  Some books are beautiful gems that come to an author fully formed. They sparkle and shine as the words flow from the author’s brain onto the page. This is not one of those books.

  This book came amidst some personal turmoil, career angst, with a side-order of writer’s block thrown in to keep things interesting. I’m convinced it wouldn’t have been finished at all without the help of some key people.

  A huge thank you to Jenny Holiday. If it weren’t for our daily writing sprints, IM chats, and your unwavering support, I don’t think I would have ever reached The End. You’re a gift to the writing community. To my agent Courtney Miller-Callihan, I don’t know how you put up with me, but I’m grateful for all that you do on a daily basis. Thank you for the phone calls and your patience while I talked out the problematic ending. And finally, thank you to my editor, Esi Sogah. Your kindness, keen eye and ability to see the heart of an editing problem are second-to-none. I’m honored to have the opportunity to work with you.

  Chapter 1

  Marissa sat on the edge of her bed in her underwear, pants down around her ankles and her apron still tied around her waist. Her phone was warm in her hands, the screen too bright in her dim basement apartment as another call came in.

  This was number four—no five. Yeah, the fifth call in an hour. That had to be a new record. Yesterday she’d only had five calls all day, which meant another collection agency must have uncovered her new number today. There was a small part of her that wondered if Andrew himself was passing her information along to them. Not that she’d given her ex her new cell number, but he’d proven to be super resourceful in his bitterness, and Marissa wouldn’t put it past him.

  This was her continued punishment for breaking up with him.

  Though technically, he’d broken up with her first.

  The screen on her phone went black, and the indicator flashed red letting her know that there was another message waiting. She set her phone into her lap, kicked off her work pants, taking a moment to rub her sore calves. She’d been working double shifts whenever she could, in a vain attempt to keep on top of these debts. Even if she’d known they were coming, the chances of her being able to financially handle them all were small at best. She’d maxed out on student loans, and because she’d co-signed for Andrew’s startup business two years ago, the bank wasn’t keen on giving her another one, even if it would help her consolidate debts.

  So double shifts between trips to the library to do research papers would be her life for the foreseeable future. She looked down at the blinking light. Morbid curiosity would get the better of her soon and she’d listen to whatever the demands were. She’d have to find a way to pay everything. If she didn’t, her dreams of starting her own business would never come to pass.

  Andrew might have screwed up her past and present, but she’d be dammed if she’d cede him her future as well.

  Setting her phone on the bed, Marissa found the energy to get changed. She needed to head into the library to meet up with Naomi. They had a group assignment due in three days and Marissa hadn’t even started on her part of the project. The musty smell clung to her T-shirt as she slipped it on. Shit, she’d just washed these and had used those stupid scent booster beads. Nothing seemed to work. The air in her apartment was dank and left a residue over everything. She’d mentioned it to Shelia shortly after moving in, and a dehumidifier had appeared the next day. Maybe the damn thing was broken.

  She turned to go check it, when the message light caught her eye again, taunting her. There was no reason to check, because she knew what was there waiting for her, even if she didn’t know the exact words. It was simply another company that needed to be added to the list. She started out of the room, made it three steps before spinning around and snatching her phone. With a roll of her eyes, she pressed the button for her voice mail.

  Beep. “This is not a sales call. This is a message for Marissa Roy. Please contact Raylon Group at 647-555-7354 to receive important information on how to repay your debt. It’s imperative for you to get in touch with us or else your credit rating will be impacted. Again, the number is 647-555-7354.”

  She ended the call, and set her phone down on top of the dehumidifier. The motor wasn’t running, nor was the bucket in the back full. She gave it a little bang on the top, before hitting it a second time, harder. The motor kicked in, snapping and chugging away as it pulled the moisture from the air.

  Well, that was at least one thing she could fix.

  She picked up the phone and slid it into her pocket when it rang
again. Instead of her generic ringtone, this time it was the one she’d assigned to her mom. Shit. Marissa had been purposely forgetting to call her for weeks now, knowing her mom would do whatever she could to try and help her out of this. And while she loved her mom more than anything, she wasn’t going to drag her into this mess.

  Taking a breath, Marissa smiled and hoped it would come through in her voice. “Hey there. I haven’t talked to you in ages.”

  “Hey baby.” Her mom’s voice came through crisp and clear, but for a moment was nearly drowned out by something loud in the background. “I missed you.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “The church has a bake sale on the weekend and I said I’d make my cupcakes again.”

  Marissa’s stomach growled at the thought of the buttercream frosting she knew would be paired with it. “Please save me some.”

  “That would mean you’d have to come visit me.” She chuckled and what Marissa now recognized as the sound of beaters going, turned off. “How are your classes going?” There was no mistaking the pride in her voice. She’d never gone to college herself, and had been super excited when Marissa got into her business program.

  “Good. I mean, I’ve only been at it a few weeks, but so far I’m enjoying them.”

  “I’m so happy to hear that. I don’t know where you got your brains, because it certainly wasn’t from me.”

  Marissa knew better than to say anything about her father. “Well, let’s hope it stays like this until midterms. Naomi told me about a scholarship that’s specifically for women in the business program. If I keep my marks up, there’s a chance I’ll qualify.”

  “That’s amazing.” Her mother’s voice cracked, before she cleared it. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

  “Thanks.” Marissa sat down on her one and only chair.

  “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or am I going to have to pry it out of you?”

  Marissa’s stomach soured. “Why would you think there’s anything wrong?

  “You think I can’t tell when there’s something going on with you? You’re not sparkling and you always sparkle.” Her mom laughed again. “Plus, you haven’t talked to me in three weeks, which means you’re avoiding telling me something. So, spill it.”

  No. She loved her mom, but there was no way she’d pull her into this. But Marissa also lacked the ability to lie to her, which meant she was going to have to get creative. “I’ve been good. Just…a lot of things have been coming at me. School and work. And…a lot of outside pressures. It’s just been hard…financially. And I’ve picked up a bunch of extra shifts at the restaurant, but there’ve been some…unexpected bills.”

  “Sweetie, why didn’t you tell me you needed some money.” Her mom sighed. “God, I thought you’d gotten yourself into trouble with a boy or something. How much do you need? Did you want me to top up your meal plan? I just got paid myself, so you hit me at the right time.”

  Guilt was a horrible palate cleanser for telling lies. “Ah, yeah, that would be amazing.” It wouldn’t be enough to even remotely put a dent in what she owed, but at least she wouldn’t have to worry about getting groceries for a while.

  “I can log into the site and do that today. Though it sounds like there’s something else you need.”

  Oh, you know, a couple hundred thousand or so. “No, that will be good.”

  “I can put a bit extra on the card. Give you some beer money. I know you’re working hard, baby. Things will get easier for you soon. I promise.”

  “Thanks Mom.”

  Hanging up the phone, Marissa fought back a wave of tears. What a frigging coward she was, not even able to tell her mom what the hell was going on. But she knew, her mom would try and take over, she’d take on Marissa’s bills until her own finances were depleted. Then, they’d both be screwed and Marissa would be even worse off for having dragged her into this. She had to find a way out that didn’t involve family.

  A knock on her door had her lifting her head. It was probably her landlady Shelia looking for the rent. Marissa would mention the dehumidifier was on the blink; maybe she had another one upstairs in the piles of things everywhere. Marissa was about three steps from the door, when whoever it was knocked on her door again, far harder than before.

  “I know you’re in there!” The very male voice sounded more than a little angry.

  Marissa took a step back, looking to make sure she’d secured her deadbolt when she’d come in earlier. “Who’s there?”

  “You owe us money. Open up so we can talk.”

  Shit, could they do this? Weren’t there laws or something preventing this sort of harassment? Maybe? Probably not. “I don’t think so.”

  “I’m here for our money. Write me a cheque and I’ll leave.”

  Marissa’s mind raced and her body shook. “Your company has my phone number, I’m sure. Have them call me with the details and I’ll follow up.”

  “Open the door!”

  “Nope. Call me. Or send me an email if you want.” A hard thud shook the door. “Did you just kick my door?”

  “Over fifty grand. I want the money now.”

  Marissa’s hands shook as she pulled out her cell. “I’m calling the police.”

  “You’re a fucking lowlife, ripping off legitimate businesses. Pay what you owe, bitch.” There was another loud bang, followed by heavy footsteps as whoever it was marched back upstairs and outside.

  She couldn’t move for a solid five minutes, her gaze locked on the old door as she strained to hear if the man was still hiding outside. There was no way she was going to leave now, especially if the man could potentially be waiting for her on the street. Shit, she was going to have to cancel on Naomi.

  Fifty thousand dollars? No freaking way. If he was telling the truth, then that was in addition to the other loans that creditors were now chasing her for. She didn’t remember signing her name on a loan that large. The most she’d done was five thousand dollars for Andrew to buy the stock he’d needed for his café. None of this made any sense.

  And yet, she’d come to learn that Andrew wasn’t the man she’d assumed he was. He had this manipulative side of him that she’d never seen—or had ignored the warning signs—and now she had to assume he’d been capable of anything. Including somehow getting her name added to a loan she’d never seen.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks as the gravity of the situation pressed down on her. Even if she quit school, she wouldn’t have the money to pay off what she now owed. And without the education she’d worked so hard for over the past few years, she wasn’t going to accomplish her goal of opening her own business.

  Her mind raced through the options, and while there were a few, it was one that her friend Naomi had presented her with that kept coming back to the top of the list.

  But there was no way she could do that. Putting her trust in another man—a stranger at that—wasn’t how she could get out of this situation. If anything, it might make things far more complicated.

  And yet…

  Wiping her tears, she went to her small kitchen table and opened her laptop. It took a while for her ancient computer to come alive from power saving mode, but when it did, the email from Naomi was still open from when she’d left it yesterday.

  I know things have gotten hard for you. I was at this boot camp thing back in the spring talking about sugar daddy sites. Dude, it’s legit and some of the girls at the thing said it was a Godsend. I’ve had good luck myself. You’re hot and I’m sure you wouldn’t have any problems finding someone. Here’s the link. www.millionairesugardaddy.com. Aim high, right LOL! We can chat at school about it.

  Love Naomi.

  Marissa’s finger hovered over the mouse button. The mere thought of looking for a sugar daddy should be repulsive, demeaning. Her mother would be furious if she knew Marissa was even considering the opti
on. But if what Naomi had said was true, most of the time these guys weren’t even interested in sex. It was more about companionship than anything else. Given how hard she’d been working and how little time she’d had for anything social, it wasn’t a horrible idea to spend time with someone. And if she got some financial help out of the deal, then how bad could it be.

  She moved the mouse over the link.

  God, this was probably a terrible mistake. Maybe if she went back to the bank and talked to them again, they might be willing to consolidate the loans. Or she could declare bankruptcy and totally ruin her own chances of opening up her own business once she got out of school. They were only dreams, right?

  What harm could there be in looking?

  She clicked the link.

  * * * *

  Vince wanted to punch something, anything that wasn’t his father. The older Mr. Taylor was currently talking to a woman who was easily younger than Vince by several years, and finishing off his third scotch this hour. The girl so far seemed to be holding her own, but Vince was ready to swoop in and extract her if she gave any indication that Geoff had crossed a line.

  “The old man at it again?” Nate handed Vince a drink of his own, as he stepped beside him.

  Vince nodded his acknowledgement as he took a drink. Several women stared briefly as they walked past, only to bend their heads giggling once they were by. He knew he and his best friend-cum-PR rep, made quite the striking pair standing there in their tuxes. Nate’s dark skin was in stark contrast to his own pale tone, making them look as opposite as could be. But they were of equal height which drew more than a little attention whenever they entered a room. If the gossip sites were to be believed, two of the best bachelor catches in Toronto.

  Nate shook his head as Geoff reached over and curled a piece of the woman’s hair around his finger. “I don’t know how he does it?”

  “Don’t admire him. He’s slime.” Once upon a time, Vince had admired his father and his ability to get the girl while closing a killer business deal. He’d done his best to emulate Geoff’s freewheeling ways, until that had landed him into a pile of trouble. “He’s trying to sleep with someone young enough to be his daughter.”