Sugar Daddy (Sugar Bowl #1)

by Sawyer Bennett

  Sela’s eyes fill with tenderness, a new look I’m liking on her face. The cool, aloof woman is warming up in ways I never imagined.

  She reaches out, grabs my hand resting casually between us, and squeezes it. “You’re too sweet to me.”

  “You make it easy,” I assure her, actually enjoying the fact that these words of affection come easy to me.

  Maybe I was built for relationships but just never found the right one. While Sela always maintains something in reserve that is still unknown to me, I’ve seen enough glimpses inside to know she could possibly be “the one.” She’s definitely worth the effort, and I hope that she’ll fully open up to me one day. I’ve no doubt that something in her past keeps a part of her locked up tight from me, and that was evidenced by last week when she lied to me. Even thinking about it now, my shoulders tense up. I wasn’t kidding with Sela…I don’t abide by liars. I hate dishonesty and secrets and ulterior motives. I have reason to, and it’s probably the only thing that could tear me away from her.

  But ultimately, what Sela did was more of a fib than a lie. It was her terrible attempt to hide from me the fact she was feeling overwhelmed with everything that was occurring between us. Silly girl went for a walk to get her head on straight and didn’t think I’d understand or be sympathetic to her doubts.

  All of life is filled with doubt. All of us make calculated risks in our choices, and while I’m not one to second-guess myself, I fully understand that Sela might be having some difficulties in accepting what’s going on between us. It’s okay though…I’m a patient man.

  I’m not going anywhere.

  “Beck?” Sela asks softly.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re the first man I’ve brought home to meet my father.”

  I’m not surprised by this, but I am deeply flattered. Still, I know this is a big deal for her, but she’s far too serious in this moment. I don’t want this to be stressful on her, so I joke, “I won’t embarrass you, I promise.”

  “You couldn’t,” she assures me, the joke bouncing off her shadowed eyes. “I’m not even quite sure why you’re with someone like me.”

  I tilt my head, squeeze her hand, and admonish her, “If this is a shameless attempt to get me to extol all your virtues, we’re going to be very late to dinner for me to take the time to do that.”

  She laughs softly, places her other hand over the ones we already have clasped. “No, it’s just…sometimes on its face it’s hard to see us together, you know? Different backgrounds, life choices, paths. I mean…think about it. You are so out of my league, Beck. If we hadn’t met at that Sugar Bowl Mixer, chances are you and I would have never had the opportunity to even cross paths.”

  “And I certainly wasn’t looking for a Sugar Baby,” I tell her with a chuckle. “And I’m the one out of your league.”

  “But I was looking for a Sugar Daddy,” she reminds me primly, refusing to debate league status.

  “You got way more than you bargained for.” I lower my voice so it sounds ominous, “I’ve enjoyed corrupting you, Miss Halstead.”

  She snorts and releases my hands, grabs for the door handle. “I suggest you don’t go saying shit like that around my father. He has guns in the house and he’s just itching to play the role of overprotective father.”

  Laughing, I get out of the car and follow her up the sidewalk.

  —

  William Halstead is a good man. I figured it out from the minute he met us at the door and pulled Sela into a bear hug, rocking her back and forth and cooing, “There’s my baby girl.”

  It was confirmed when he finally released her and gave me a hearty handshake, clasping my hand with two of his and pumping it vigorously while smiling at me as if I was a knight in shining armor. Sela wasn’t kidding…I’m the first man she’s ever brought home, and this apparently made her father very, very happy. It again makes me wonder how this smart, beautiful creature went so long without any real relationship. With regard to me, it’s a no-brainer. My parents were terrible role models for what a healthy, loyal relationship should look like. But you can just tell that Sela grew up in a household with a lot of love and respect.

  Perhaps, maybe like me, she was just waiting for the right one to come along.

  —

  I’m relieved that the conversation flowed easily throughout dinner. Sela’s dad is a gregarious man and a natural-born storyteller. His girlfriend, Maria, is more reserved, but that could simply be because William tends to dominate conversations. I wonder if Sela’s mom was that way as well.

  “Can I get anyone anything to drink?” Maria asks as she walks into the living room. She had insisted on doing the dishes so we could all retire in here to talk and hang out for a bit before we headed back to the city.

  “I’m good,” I say, and Sela chimes in with, “I’m good too.”

  “I’m good, honey,” William says as he reaches out to touch his hand to Maria’s with a soft smile before she plops down onto the couch next to him.

  Sela’s body tightens next to me, barely perceptible, but I’m very in tune with her mood since we got here. While she is open and friendly with her father, she’s a bit more reserved around Maria, and I know that has everything to do with the fact Sela fears this woman is replacing her late mother in her father’s affections. She’s not said much about it, but I can tell in the careful mask she keeps in place whenever she interacts with Maria.

  “So tell me more about your business,” William asks me, his hands folded casually over his stomach. William Halstead is a big man, in height and girth. Sela told me he heads the janitorial staff for the local high school and has been working there for nearly thirty years now. I do believe he’s the first janitor I’ve ever known in my life, a thought that actually humbles me a bit.

  “It’s primarily a Web-based dating site that focuses on pairing wealthy men with women,” I say, holding his gaze steady. Didn’t think it would be this hard to tell Sela’s dad what I did for a living, but I brace for censure.

  “And it’s called the Sugar Bowl?” Maria asks with a polite smile on her face. “What’s that mean?”

  Sela coughs slightly, and as she sits next to me on the love seat, I can see her from my peripheral vision put a hand over her mouth to hide a smirk. I think she’s enjoying my discomfort a bit.

  “It’s a play on the words sugar daddy,” William says with booming voice. “I read an article online about it.”

  “What’s a sugar daddy?” Maria asks, turning to look at William.

  Sela nearly chokes and her dad shoots her a sly wink. He also saves me from having to explain by telling Maria, “Sugar daddy is a term used for a man who pays for everything for his woman.”

  Maria turns her brown eyes my way. She’s an attractive Hispanic woman who made an amazing carne adobada for dinner and seemed to dote on Sela’s dad. You can tell she’s seriously in love with the man, but I could also tell that William holds something in reserve, sort of the way that Sela does with me. I wonder if Sela notices that and it makes her feel any better about him being with her.

  “So, it’s like Match.com, but it focuses more on economic factors?” she asks me, turning my way.

  I nod and smile. “That’s a good way to think of it.”

  Maria snorts and says, “Well, I can just imagine what those women have to do to land them a rich Sugar Daddy.”

  Sela chokes again, a snicker pops out, and she then lunges up off the couch, mumbling, “Excuse me. I need to use the restroom.”

  All three of us watch her walk away, and yeah…my eyes flip down to her retreating ass for a moment. Luckily, when I turn back to face William and Maria, they’re still looking at the hallway where Sela just disappeared.

  William slowly turns his face to me and says, “Well, it all sounds very impressive. I saw the net worth of your company.”

  And that embarrasses me a bit, making me feel slightly uncomfortable. I don’t want Sela’s dad to judge me on the merits of my bank acc
ount.

  “She’s an amazing girl,” William says thoughtfully of his daughter. Maria reaches over and takes his hand, giving it a tiny pat of agreement. “She deserves nothing but the best.”

  “Agreed,” I say.

  “But she’s also set in her ways,” he continues, and this piques my interest. “She views this world in a certain way and sometimes has a hard time believing in the good of it. Be patient with her. Sela has a lot to offer anyone who has the pleasure of knowing her, but she can sometimes withdraw into herself. You ever catch her doing that, you pull her right back out again, okay?”

  A sense of foreboding hits me, and a tiny spark of fear pulses within. William’s words are so serious and at odds with the jovial dad of just a few minutes ago that was thrilled to have his daughter involved with a man for the first time in her life.

  “I’m pretty sure there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Sela,” I tell William solemnly, because I feel that he wants that type of promise. “I’ll take care of her.”

  “Like a sugar daddy?” Maria asks, blinking innocent eyes at me.

  I stare back at her completely stunned, my mouth hanging open. Then she starts laughing and points a finger at me while patting William on the leg. “You two need to lighten up. Sela’s a strong girl and doesn’t need a man making things right for her.”

  I suppose that’s true, but as I look across the living room to William, I don’t see him laughing along with Maria. Instead he pins me with a direct stare, conveying silently to me that he expects me to do exactly what I just promised him. And the look on his face says that if I don’t, I will see a different side to Sela’s dad.

  Chapter 23

  Sela

  I slip on the Tag Heuer that Beck surprised me with last weekend when we spent a day shopping around San Francisco. After Caroline and Ally left, the apartment was almost stifling in its stillness, and he suggested a day out and about. It included a stop at an upscale jeweler where he insisted on buying me this stainless-steel beauty with a white ceramic face and diamonds around the edge, as well as twelve on the face for each hour. It’s beautiful and so me; not too delicate, a little bold, and not the slightest bit ostentatious despite the high price tag. I put up an argument against his getting it for me, but Beck shut me up with a simple statement.

  “Don’t take this away from me. I’ve never had anyone I could buy jewelry for.”

  Checking the time, I note I have about ten minutes before I have to get down to the lobby so the doorman can hail me a cab. Tonight’s the big dinner with JT and my nerves have been vibrating all day. Beck got called into the office about three hours ago, something I didn’t quite understand. He’s the freakin’ owner of a multimillion-dollar business and yet he was spending his Saturday at the office helping programmers with some meddlesome code. Beck explained to me that they were launching a new platform at the beginning of the year, and while that was still thirty days away, the work was round the clock to meet the deadline. When the programmers got stuck, Beck was the big cheese, and this was his baby, so he went in to work. He took a suit with him, since we were dining in a very fancy and posh restaurant, and gave me a long, sizzling kiss to help ease the sting of ditching me today.

  I easily forgave him though. It was hard not to after the wonderful time we had with my dad last night, who very much liked and approved of Beck. Before we left, he gave me an all-encompassing hug and whispered in my ear, “I’m really happy for you, honey.”

  I’m happy for me too.

  Will be much happier if I can get past tonight.

  There is no doubt in my mind that I’m getting ready to face an incredibly hard few hours. To sit at a table with my rapist—a man who is so vile I want to scratch his eyes out and castrate him at the same time—has me wondering if I have the mettle within me to pull off such an act.

  I should be able to do it. The first few weeks with Beck, much of what I showed him was nothing but a superb performance worthy of an Oscar. But that façade soon gave way to feelings and emotions that were genuine to my soul, and as I stand here now, looking in the mirror above the sink vanity, I know that if I’m going to keep the purity of my relationship with Beck, I need to stick to my new quest. I need to release my need for vengeance and pour my efforts into a relationship with a man I’ve come to care deeply for. In my heart, I know that my rewards will be infinitely greater if I manage to pull this off.

  The doorbell rings and it startles me. No one ever comes to Beck’s condo unless it’s for a delivery of some sort, and I’ve found out that Beck likes to have things delivered to me. I’ve received countless flowers, candy, and even a set of naughty lingerie that he received the benefit of that one night when I greeted him at the door wearing it.

  In fact, I’m betting there’s probably a bouquet of daisies and freesia waiting on the other side, probably an unnecessary apology from Beck for his bailing on me today.

  Smiling, I walk down the hallway, past the large dining room table and into the foyer, my heels clacking on the hardwood flooring. I pull the door open, expecting the smell of flowers to hit me, and instead find myself facing Jonathon Townsend.

  He stands there casually, both hands tucked into the pockets of an expensive pair of black dress pants. His suit jacket is unbuttoned, showcasing a pristine starched white shirt underneath, sans tie and unbuttoned at his throat.

  His eyes pin me in place and he gives me a smile that falls somewhere between licentious and bland. “Hello, Sela.”

  My fingers tighten on the knob and I resist the urge to slam the door in his face. I swallow past the dryness in my throat, will my heart rate to calm down, and ask, “What are you doing here?”

  “Knew Beck was at work. He said you were taking a cab to the restaurant, so I had my driver stop by and figured I’d offer you a ride. We still have to swing by and pick up my date, of course, but she’s just a few blocks down.”

  The room spins a little at the prospect of sitting in a car with this man, but I can’t think of a sane reason to decline his invitation. It would be utterly ludicrous for me to insist I take a cab, and the only thing it would serve would be the fact it would make a very clear statement that I detest him. While I’m not in the slightest bit worried about hurting his feelings, I also don’t want to make this evening any more unpleasant than I already know it will be. If I antagonize him now, I know the type of person JT is. He’ll make it rough on all of us tonight.

  And besides…I promised myself I’d never, ever do anything to let him know that I fear him. Because I don’t. I detest and hate him. Loathe him so much that periodic flashes of murder will still pop within my mind. I know Jonathon is the type of man who likes to intimidate women. It makes him feel better about himself, so I’ll be damned if I’m ever going to help him do that.

  So I take a deep breath and decide the sooner I get this evening started, the sooner it will be over, and I can do this for Beck.

  “Let me grab my purse,” I say, my voice sounding frosty and not the least bit grateful, so I make a concerted effort. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

  I turn to the foyer table, pick up the black clutch I bought this weekend with some of my own money. It matches the black cocktail dress I have on, also bought with my money. I turn to JT and find his gaze lowered, clearly having been staring at my ass as I turned around. At this moment I wish my gun were in my purse, so I could pull it out and shoot him in the balls before putting a bullet in his brain.

  His gaze comes up my body lazily and he gives me a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

  Not sounding the least bit apologetic.

  I don’t respond but brush past him, pulling the door shut behind me.

  I’m silent as we make our way down to the lobby and I’m relieved when I see a driver standing next to an open door of a limousine with his hand extended to help me in. I’d hate for JT to get an attack of gentlemanly airs and try to give me assistance. As it is, I can feel his eyes on my ass again as I get in, which ensures th
e simmering anger continues to froth and bubble within my stomach. I wish I’d thought to put a pack of Tums in my purse.

  JT thankfully takes the seat opposite of me and we pull away from the curb. He sits with his legs spread slightly and his hands resting on his thighs. He looks at me appraisingly, and says, “I don’t think you’ll like my date, or have much in common with her.”

  I blink in surprise, his voice sounding aloof and with airs typical of someone of his breeding. I cock at eyebrow. “Oh, why’s that?”

  I’m not imagining the slight curl to his lip, and while his voice is mild and pleasant enough, his snub is clear from his words. “It’s just she’s from money. Very old San Francisco money. Has the requisite blue in her blood, a fancy degree from Brown, and probably saving her virginity for marriage. You two would have nothing in common.”

  And in this moment, it’s clear to me that not only is JT a rapist, a vile human being, and an abuser of women and his friends, but that he clearly doesn’t like me at all. In fact, I’d even say there’s a level of jealousy within his voice that speaks to his concern that I might turn his close friend and business partner against him.

  This flushes me with power and I just smile at him sweetly. “It’s true…I lost my virginity a long time ago.” To you, you fucking slime-sucking piece of shit. “But Beck certainly likes what he sees in me.”

  “I’m sure,” he says with a polite smile on his face, but his words are dry as the desert earth.

  The limo comes to a slow halt in front of an expensive condominium and I can hear the driver get out. JT just stares at me across the expanse of the interior, and I turn my head to look out the window at the entrance doors.

  “Aren’t you going to go up and get her?” I ask as I swivel my head back to look at him.

  “I had the driver call her when we left your place,” he says with a wave of his hand. “Besides…I don’t want Amelia thinking this is anything more than an arranged dinner between our meddling mothers. She’s got marriage stars in her eyes and I don’t want them getting any brighter.”