‘Ah. Mr Davenport. He does have exceptionally good taste. In both underwear and in women. You will look rather beautiful in the pink.’
She handed me a parcel.
And then I continued on my way. When I got to the final stop I looked around but I couldn’t see Hugo anywhere.
What I could see was a gorgeous little sports car. It was a convertible, with a huge big red ribbon wrapped around it.
It wasn’t possible, surely. I was standing there, open-mouthed, when a man walked towards me. It was the assistant.
He was holding a key.
‘This, Candy,’ he said, ‘is for you.’
I gasped and took the key. Oh my fucking god. This was my dream car, my absolute fantasy. This was my own kind of porn.
I got into the driver’s seat, still unable to believe what was happening to me. If this was what it was like to be a sugar baby, I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I loved it.
There was a note stuck to the wheel of the car.
Drive to 42 on 7th. I will be there, waiting for you.
My whole body was shaking but I put my foot on the gas and drove to 7th. It felt fantastic to be behind the wheel. I’d never had my own car before and I certainly had never driven anything as amazing as this.
There he was outside 42 on 7th. It was an old art deco building, the kind you see in movies. Hugo was waiting on the street for me, looking casual if not a little pleased with himself.
I parked the car in a perfect little parking spot that was specially waiting for me, stepped out, slammed the door and skipped towards Hugo. I didn’t mind kissing him publicly at all. I hoped he didn’t mind either. I took his hand in my hands, pushed my young body against his, and kissed him as hard as I fucking could.
‘I cannot believe what you have done for me, this is insane, this is amazing.’ I think I was yelling.
‘Katie. Come. Let’s go upstairs. This is not quite the place for such a public display of emotion. Come. I want to show you something.’
And Hugo led me by the hand. Well, not so much by the hand. He led me, with his hand firmly on my ass all the way. And then he opened the door to number 101. And took me inside.
As soon as we were in, he pushed me against the wall. He slipped his hand up my shirt and found my nipples. He played gently, first one and then the other. He unzipped my shorts and felt for me, felt between my legs, gently fingering me. Oh god I thought I was going to die. How could it be that this man, this OLD man, made me feel so good. Not only had he bought me a car but now he was loving every single part of me.
We made love urgently but gently. The apartment was empty except for a king size bed. And that was where we lay, kissing, feeling and exploring one another. I was on top when he entered me. I was Candy.
When we were done Hugo told me to close my eyes.
I was learning to listen to his instructions. I closed my eyes. I felt something, something hard, on my cleavage. I put my hand up to feel what it was.
Keys . It was another set of keys.
And this was my next gift - the whole fabulous apartment was mine. Hugo told me that furniture would arrive the next day and that this was my new home and I never had to go back to my old one. That this was where he wanted to see me. I would never know when he was going to arrive but I was to be available to him, at all times. I could go to work and it was important that I did. But I was to come home straight after work, every single day. Sometimes he would come over and sometimes he would not. It would always be a surprise for me. And I was to always be ready. To be dressed beautifully. To look sexy. To be ready to look like, and behave just like dear sweet Candy Starlight.
And in exchange for that, Hugo would give me anything I wanted. Anything. As long as I entertained his fantasies. And as long as we sometimes watched porn together. Candy, of course.
How could I say no?
‘Yes, Hugo.’ was all I said, before kissing him with all my might.
‘Good Candy’ was all he said, before pushing me hard against the wall and fucking me one more time.
And then I lay back on the bed while he went down on me. Because we were both insatiable.
This arrangement could work for me; no problem.
Chapter Eight: Katie or Candy?
It had been two months since I’d moved into this new and very beautiful apartment. Hugo had come over almost every day. He always bought a gift, something thoughtful. It wasn’t always sexy. He bought me handbags, purses, underwear, silk scarves and lipstick, but also things that were useful and valuable. Yesterday a painting had arrived for the sitting room wall. The day before that, a few books. Persian carpets had been delivered. Antique dressers. And jewellery, lots of stunning and definitely real and valuable jewellery. My collection of rings and necklaces was growing by the day.
He especially loved it when I sat, naked on the kitchen counter, wearing nothing but my diamond pendant. He loved me on the kitchen counter!
My life had changed so much, I couldn’t quite grasp what was happening. I enjoyed what we were. I didn't mind that we were not a public couple. I didn't mind that we never went out. I enjoyed being at home, waiting for him, dressing up and then getting sexy. And of course i loved the gifts.
And oddly, I was not the one who started wanting more. I was quite happy to go to work every day, counsel clients, come home and potter around . I loved waiting for Hugo to arrive, unsure if he would come before dinner, after dinner, or not at all. I always made an effort, dressed up, put on a gorgeous new dress, had a bath, felt sexy. I didn’t mind at all when he came over that we would always stay at home, cook, watch a movie and then make long glorious porn star like love.
The watching movies was interesting. He introduced me to the classics. I introduced him to chick-lit. We got into series together. And we watched occasional porn but only if Candy was starring. I could see why he thought we were similar. I did look like her. Our mouths were the same, our blonde hair, our eyes, our legs, the shape of our bodies, everything. And she was a pretty good actress!
‘You’ve definitely helped me with my porn addiction, Katie.’ Hugo said. He called me Candy in the bedroom but Katie in every day things. ‘I don’t want to watch nearly as much as I used to. I have you now.’
I loved that he no longer needed to watch porn. I loved that he felt addicted to me.
But there was one thing he didn’t love.
‘Katie. I want to show you off. I know how tricky it is, with you being so young. But I want to take you to my business dinners. I want to take you to the theatre. I want to sit and hold hands with you in restaurants. I even want to introduce you to my daughter.’
Was Hugo falling in love with me? He had mentioned a few times that he wanted to show me off; that he wanted me to meet his friends and colleagues.
But he was Hugo Davenport. The scandal would be enormous if people knew he had a Sugar Baby.
This was also the second time he had mentioned his daughter. Hugo had been married once, a very long time ago. The marriage ended in disaster and his wife had run off with his daughter. He had only met up with her again when she was sixteen and now they were very close.
But Julia was also the same age as me. And as a therapist, I couldn’t help wondering what this all meant. I was a little scared to analyze it too much. His daughter was twenty-three. I, Katie or Candy, was also twenty-three. The games, the sex, the porn, I wondered what it all really meant.
‘What would Julia think if she knew you had a Katie in your life?’ I asked. ‘Or a Candy, for that matter. She may not approve. It seems she holds you to very high standards.’
‘It may not be easy,’ Hugo said. ‘But I have this dream you two could be friends. She may like you. You’re quite similar, I think. Of course, she may also never talk to me again.’
Hugo was willing to take a few risks it seemed. He didn’t just want me in the bedroom. He didn’t just want to teach me sex games and boy, had he taught me a few new things.
He wanted a r
elationship. He was the one who wanted more.
‘Why don't we go out tomorrow night? I’m going to book tickets for the theatre. We’ll go and see a play on Broadway. And then afterwards we can have dinner. Publicly. I suggest we start slowly and see how people react to the two of us together. It is quite possible that no-one will react at all, that it will not be such a big deal’
I smiled. I looked a very young twenty-three. Hugo was magnificent and sexy and only just going grey but he did look fifty! People would think I was his daughter. Of course it would be a big deal.
And if people didn’t think I was Hugo’s daughter, they would know I was his sugar baby. They would know that we had sex. They would know he gave me all kinds of beautiful things in exchange for sex. They would just us.
Our relationship really wasn’t just sex and it really wasn’t just for the money. We were getting closer and closer and we had strong feelings for one another. I was under no illusion that this could end up in marriage or a happy ever after. Hugo was just too smart, too wealthy, to land up with me full time. But I was okay with that. It was good for now. My bank account was looking fantastic and I was no longer in overdraft. In fact, I could afford an air ticket to Europe if I wanted to. And I had been thinking that I would love to go to Paris for a week or two. Hopefully with Hugo. But if Hugo couldn’t come with me, I didn’t mind going alone.
Paris! Wandering along the Champs Elyse, seeing the Eiffel Tower, all that fabulous shopping and eating all of that divine French food. Not to mention gorgeous French men!
But it wasn’t a good time for me to think about Paris. Hugo had made dinner and was waiting for me to join him at the dining room table. He looked so dashing, sitting there in his suit although he'd taken off his tie, his top button was undone and he did have that look on his face.
I knew what to do. I walked over to him. Went down on my knees. Unzipped his pants. And took him, so big and so hard, in my mouth. I loved the way he tasted. I loved everything about what we were doing.
While I was on my knees I was suddenly thinking about Paris. If we were going to go to the theatre tomorrow, maybe we’d be able to go to Paris one day. We could stay in five star hotels and eat in all the top restaurants. We could make love in magnificent old elegant rooms, we could visit museums and art galleries, we could wander through the markets of the French Quarter, buy a French loaf and cheese, east on the banks of the River Seine.
I was getting carried away. I zipped Hugo up and took my seat at the table. Dinner was delicious. Our night together was good, cozy and intimate. Hugo left, very early in the morning, as he always did.
‘Wear something elegant tonight,’ he told me. ‘I want to feel proud of you.’
Hmmm, I thought. Doesn’t he always feel proud of me?
I got dressed and headed to work. It didn’t help that my client had just come back from Europe and couldn’t stop talking about all the beautiful things she had seen there and how desperately she wanted to go back. I listened patiently, saw my next few clients and then went to buy a dress for the evening.
I would buy something French, I decided. Simple, elegant, black and French. Maybe Hugo and I were going to do things together. Maybe theatre tomorrow as just the beginning.
Chapter Nine: Showtime
‘I can feel everyone looking at us,’ I whispered to Hugo.
‘Don’t you worry about that. They’re looking at you because you are so exquisitely beautiful. Have I told you how magnificent you look tonight?’
‘Only about three hundred times, ‘ I said. ‘Tell me one more time.’
But, people were looking at us. There were loads of people that Hugo knew, even if didn’t know them well. Business acquaintances and mostly people from his line of work. He greeted people politely and introduced me each time.
This is my friend. Katie. Katie, this is John. Or, Katie this is Edward. Or - I’d like you to meet Philip…’
I shook lots of hands and kissed lots of women on the cheek, all of them a lot older than me. I felt them looking me up and down, checking out my figure, my dress, my body. My age! I held my head high. Hugo was right. We did not need to explain anything to anybody.
‘Nice to meet you Katie. What is it that you do? A therapist! Gosh, you look so young. And how did you meet Hugo…’
‘Tell me Katie, who are you? A friend of Hugo’s daughter? He’s jolly lucky to have met you, the old bugger…’
And then the flashlights were going off in our faces. The media were there. My goodness, I had no idea what a celebrity Hugo really was. Suddenly everyone was surrounding us, calling out to us, look this way, look that way, Hugo what’s her name, Hugo how old is she, Hugo, Hugo, Hugo.
Hugo smiled but stared resolutely ahead. I held on to him tightly. This was a little scary and how dare they ask how old I am!
We went into the theatre, thank goodness. The show was fabulous and sitting in that theatre with my hand on his thigh, delicious. His hand rested gently on my leg. It was private and dark, no-one could see us and most importantly, no-one could hassle us.
I had never thought going out publicly with Hugo would be like that. But perhaps it was good that we had done. Perhaps what we had could be normalized.
When we left it was more of the same thing except this time there was triple the amount of media. I was blinded by the cameras, bombarded by the journalists. Or Paparazzi. I never quite knew the difference.
‘I think it’s enough for the night, don’t you?’ Hugo asked me.
‘Absolutely’ I said. ‘Let’s go home.’
But the night was crazy. I felt a little like Princess Diana when she was followed in that awful tunnel. The press followed us and when we got to my apartment, they were there. This was awful, frightening, a total invasion.
Hugo and I rushed inside. Once in, we were safe.
‘Oh my gosh, ‘ I said. ‘I had no idea, no idea, it would be like that. What do you think, will you be okay, is this going to hit the news?’
‘We shall have to wait and see what the papers say tomorrow. I will either be the darling of the business world, older man with younger woman, or I will be the villain. Let’s not worry about it now. Go to sleep…’
We slept in one another’s arms. Hugo slipped out early in the morning. When I left for work there were a few straggler journalists. They asked me questions, they wanted to know what our relationship was.
‘We’re friends, ’ I said. ‘Good friends.’ And I left it at that, picking up a newspaper as I made my way to work.
This was not good. My picture was all over the papers. Thank goodness I looked gorgeous, if a little like a porn star. The text was not as pretty. I was called a gold-digger, a sugar baby, a bitch. I was being painted as a terrible person.
Hugo was not the story at all; I was.
Typical. Men get away with anything. Women get the raw deal. We were both in this together; why weren’t they calling him bad names.
My phone was going crazy with the media calling, asking me questions, what my intentions were, why I was with a man double my age. I put it on silent when my first client walked in.
‘You’re with Davenport, she said. He must be three times your age. Does he pay you well? Do you fuck him for money?’ She wanted to know everything, even though I said I wasn’t going to talk about it.
My second client cancelled, leaving a message saying he had no interest being counseled by a sugar baby.
My third client did exactly the same. Cancel.
I felt desperate.
I tried to call Hugo but his phone was constantly engaged and I wondered what he was going through. He must have seen the papers. Was it as bad for him?
And then my phone rang again and I answered it. Maybe he was calling me from a different number.
‘Katie speaking, hello, Hugo is that you, Hugo…’
‘Katie. Shall I call you Katie? Or Candy? This is Julia, I’m Hugo’s daughter. I’m going to cut to the chase. We need to meet, today, this is urge
nt. Please don't tell my father that I have contacted you, I want to talk to you first.’
Julia. Of course she would have seen the papers. I sighed a huge sigh of relief. At least I would have her on my side. At least we, Hugo and I, would have Julia on our side.
We agreed to meet immediately. I had no more business for the day and in fact I was suddenly worried that I would have no more business ever. It was clear I was being painted as a money-grabber, a sugar baby, a terrible person My clients seemed to have lost total faith in me.
Julia and I agreed to meet downtown. I rushed home to change my clothes and to freshen up. I wanted to look decent for the meeting. And then I drove to meet her, thinking how good it was going to be.
Nicola Page 8