Craving Sugar

by Elena M. Reyes

Pulling into my usual parking spot, I noticed a new car in the driveway. Nothing fancy, but new. Being that it was Sunday and my parents loved to host barbecues with friends, I didn’t think too much of it.

  Not until I realized—saw the bright pink car seat that belonged to Aubrey inside. The hell?

  No one was inside the house as I made my way through the front door and down the hall into the kitchen. Noises coming from the back pulled me in that direction. A warm breeze met my skin the closer I got to the sliding glass door.

  Hushed voices spoke fast, words jumping at me: school, opportunity, expensive.

  Did they know?

  “Honey, I’m home,” I called out as I passed the door’s threshold. The hushed voices quieted down, and all eyes looked up toward me. All familiar except one. The man who sat beside my sister and across from my parents I’d never seen before. Their mirrored expressions unnerved me—they looked guilty. “You guys okay?”

  “Of course,” Mom jumped in, and Dad nodded with a smile on his face. That serene smile put me at ease; had something happened, he would’ve rushed to explain. “And you, young lady, are early. Need to do laundry?”

  “Nah, I’m good. Just wanted to spend some extra time with my munchkin.” My girl’s sweet giggles met my ears a second before her feet hit the ground. “Have you seen her? It seems my little Aubrey’s missing.”

  She slammed into my legs and flexed her fingers out, asking me to pick her up. Her big blue eyes met mine, all happy and excited. “Titi!”

  My eyes watered and wandered over to my sister. “When?”

  Aubrey had been nonverbal up until three and since then had learned a few words. Just basics like: hungry, tired, potty, Bubs—which was her stuffed panda—and Mom.

  That’d been it for the last eight months. Nothing new.

  So, for her to call me the Spanish nickname for auntie...

  “We’ve been working with a new program, and she’s doing so well. Her therapist referred us to a school that opened near the Aventura mall area and she’s loving it. Even her speech therapist is amazed with what this new structured routine is doing for her.”

  Reaching down, I picked her up and placed her on my hip. “Why haven’t I heard about this? How long has she been attending?”

  A throat cleared, and my eyes left Gloria’s and settled on the man beside her. “I think it might be best if I explain, Miss…?”

  He was handsome in a generic sort of way. Seemed tall, sandy blonde hair, and brown eyes. Well dressed in slacks, long-sleeved dress shirt sans tie, and loafers. Put together in a casual way.

  Nothing like her ex.

  “You may call me Beau. I’m the younger sister and aunt to this precious thing.” I nuzzled Aubrey’s neck, causing her to laugh. Her chubby fingers pushed me away halfheartedly.

  “Pleasure then,” he replied without giving me his name.

  “And you are?” Because shit, he was in our home and selling everyone on what was best for my niece. I needed more information on him. Learn what his angle was.

  From the corner of my eye I saw the glare my sister sent my way, but I ignored her.

  “Sorry about that,” he said with a handsome grin. Reaching toward me, he extended a hand out for me to shake, but never made a move to stand up. Odd. “I’m Ivan Scott, director for the school in question.”

  Red flags were raised.

  Warning sirens blared across my processors.

  Why would he come all the way out here, on a Sunday, to speak with my parents about Aubrey’s schooling? That was something for him to discuss with Gloria alone during business hours in a formal setting on the school’s campus.

  That’s when I noticed his body language. Studied him. How he subconsciously angled himself toward her. How his fingers twitched in the armrest that separated his arm from Gloria’s.

  Then her blush.

  The daggers sent my way demanding that I don’t make him feel uncomfortable.

  Someone has more than a crush, and I can’t tell who has it worse.

  I coughed to cover my laugh. “Can you please explain what’s going on with Aubrey? What kind of program does the school have her on? Is it a PECS based system?”

  He seemed surprised by my questioning, but kept his smile in place. Only looking away once toward Gloria to get permission to discuss my niece’s improvements. “Is that okay?”

  Holding in the laugh that wanted to escape hurt. “Were you not discussing this prior to my arrival? Do I need to leave?”

  Ivan shook his head. “Of course not. Just didn’t realize I’d be dealing with someone familiar with the process...to be honest, that makes it easier. Teacher or student, Beau?”

  “My girl should’ve been a lawyer,” Dad interjected with a laugh and a raise of his half-empty glass of iced tea. “Argumentative, determined...a pitbull when it comes to getting facts. Pumpkin has always made her pops proud.”

  “Not going to happen, old man.” I rolled my eyes, causing Aubrey to giggle once more before she snuggled into the crook of my neck. Gloria held her hands out for me to pass her over, but I shook my head before kissing the crown of her head. “Lawyers don’t get to hang out all day with the cool kids like I do.”

  “Pumpkin, you’re killing this old man’s dream.”

  Ignoring Mom’s snicker and Dad’s grunted response, I turned my attention back toward Ivan. “You must understand that this is my area of study. Anytime I see something be successful with one child, I like to do my research. Find out how I can implement it on the kiddos I work with through my student teaching.”

  “That’s really admirable.” Ivan gave me a head nod.

  “To learn is to grow.”

  “In other words, she’s the book nerd of the family. The boring one,” Gloria snorted, and I flipped my pointer finger at her. It was our private joke. It’d be wrong of us to teach the little girl in my arms to flip someone off.

  Laughter followed the act. Well, everyone except my sister’s companion and Aubrey, who had no clue as to why her crazy family was acting a fool. That, and she was too busy trying to fall asleep.

  A nap does sound glorious right about now.

  “Honey, sit down.” Dad stood up then and gave me his chair. Squeezed my shoulder as I walked over and he dashed inside to pull out a stool for himself. He came back out before I could sit down with his seat in hand and a bottle of water for me. “Food should be out soon. Hungry?”

  “Always.” His mustache twitched at my response. Always claimed my sister and I ate like men. No shame. “And thanks for the chair.”

  “Hush, kid.”

  Once situated, I made sure Aubrey was comfortable before getting back into the conversation of her schooling. “So, you were saying about this school?”

  “It’s a privately run academy where our main focus is children with disabilities. Our program runs from Pre-K to 12th grade and works with a large array of social, behavioral, and learning impediments. From Autism to Dyslexia. We work with everything in between.”

  “Impressive, right?” Gloria preened beside him, and I felt as though I was missing something important. What was the catch?

  Because if it seemed too good to be true, it was. End of.

  “And does this school run on grants?”

  “It does...” Ivan trailed off, but I waved him on. “But, and this is a minor but, Aubrey doesn’t qualify for any that would cover the complete cost. The state will pay partial tuition, but her mother will be required to come up with half each month.”

  “How much?” The knot that had all but disappeared when I stepped into my childhood home had returned with a vengeance. Knowing what was coming and being prepared for it were two very different things.

  “Total for one school year is twenty-six grand with the government paying up to ten of that. And truly, that is the best we can do.”

  “I see.” What more could I say since I knew who would be footing the bill? They couldn’t even help me now with the co-signing on a personal
loan. Their bill-to-earnings ratio had once again been hit, and on paper it would seem they wouldn’t make enough to pay all that, live comfortably, and add a new debt.

  Fucked. Utterly and unequivocally, I was fucked.

  “Oh, you need to see it, Beau.” My sister smiled, and no matter how large my own problems were at that moment, I did too. Her joy was palpable. Gloria could be self-centered at times, but she was a good mother. “She’s so happy there—Mom came last week and was amazed with just how well she’s doing. How she’s made a friend and everything!”

  “Wonderful place, kiddo. Impressed would be putting it lightly,” Mom, who up until that moment had been quiet, said. Her green eyes, identical to my own, were watching Aubrey sleep in my arms. “And her improvements; using verbal cues or the PECS system have helped. She’s happy to be understood.”

  “Then this is the place for her,” I whispered while she stirred a bit and resettled herself. Everyone nodded and continued to talk around me. Never would I be selfish enough to take that kind of help from my niece. Aubrey would always come first.

  Throughout the rest of that day, I’d nod or answer when spoken to.

  My mind was elsewhere. On trying to find a rational solution to all my problems.

  And it wasn’t until I was back in my small, studio apartment—that I could no longer afford—that it hit me.

  The card.

  Zoe’s proposal, which I’d been ignoring. What she explained that night while we talked in her apartment.

  “No. I’d never sell myself for cash.”

  “I never said you had to sleep with him,” Zoe interjected while rolling her eyes, not at all deterred by my reaction. “These men understand that if anything were to ever happen sexually, it’s on your terms and not theirs. A contract would be signed with all the rules and stipulations agreed upon by the parties involved. You’d play the part of girlfriend for one year and reap the benefits.”

  “How do you know so much?”

  “Because I’m a sugar baby, Beau. Look around you for a moment; how can a grad student afford this apartment and go to school full time without a single cent in debt? My parents aren’t rich, babe. Struggling middle class at best.”

  She was right. There was no way for her to afford this on minimum wage unless you came from money.

  Nodding, I offered her a half smile. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “Please don’t be proud, and think about it.” Reaching over, she picked up a chip and popped it in her mouth. Took her time chewing while my mind ran a marathon. She—those women she hung out with were all like her. A modern-day whore. “Stop it,” Zoe chided. There was a bit of a bite in her tone, and I felt embarrassed. “We aren’t prostitutes or sex slaves. We are women who know what we want and need. What we won’t settle for. Nothing less.”

  “I’m going to be honest here, Zoe. This wasn’t what I expected at all.”

  “I know that, but what I’m offering will change your life. Let me guide you. Keep you safe while exploring an alternative option that will keep you in school.”

  “It would be a way out, and no one has to find out. One hundred percent discreet, she said.” Rushing over to my desk, I opened my laptop and settled back against my headboard. “Let’s get this over with,” I mumbled and typed out my search.

  I explored the internet for information that night, and what I found was a bit overwhelming. But like everything else in my life, I was going to tackle this head on. And so, I began to read. Everything and anything to help me transition. Know what to expect.

  How To: In the Sugar World.

  The Golden Rules for Dating Sugar.

  What Type of Sugar Baby Are You?

  There was even an article explaining what kind of an allowance one should ask for.

  Laying my head back against the padded headboard, I tried to calm my erratic breathing. What the hell was I signing up for?

  But then again, I had no choice.

  Grabbing my cell off the nightstand, I typed out three words that scared the living daylights out of me before I chickened out.

  Zoe, I’m in. ~Beau.

  FOUR

  Hendrix

  Your attendance is requested.

  We’re honoring your commitment to the greater city of Miami Development, Architecture, and Construction Association.

  Don’t forget to R.S.V.P!

  My finger hovered over the delete button.

  It’d be so easy. Just check off one little box highlighting them all, and it’d all go the fuck away.

  “Leeches,” I hissed through my teeth before slamming my laptop closed and staring off into the warm waters of the Atlantic. None of these people were my friends—people I might even consider a colleague.

  Most had never been on a job site, much less gotten their hands dirty in their life.

  Just your average snob with money to spare and who loved to make themselves feel important. This wasn’t for charity or to raise funds for the city.

  It was to rub elbows, kiss ass, and show off: three things I didn’t give a flying one about. Thousand-dollar plates and an open bar were not my idea of a good time.

  As if you remember what that is.

  Ignoring my own self-deprecating thoughts, I looked toward the shore a few feet away. The waves crashed with a bit of violence. As if the water felt my mounting ire.

  Picking my bottle up from the table, I brought it to my lips and took in a long pull. Savored the hoppy flavor while surveying the shore a few steps from my back deck.

  Nothing brought me peace like being home, and the Florida Keys was just that—my getaway from it all.

  I’d built this place with my bare hands.

  A side project between large jobs to help me decompress. Three years of blood, sweat, and calloused fingers created what would’ve been our retirement home. Our golden years retreat. Ophelia wanted to enjoy the salt life to its maximum while the grandkids we’d someday have played on the same shore in my line of sight.

  But things change. Emotional connections change.

  My phone vibrated on the small patio table, bringing me back from my thoughts. Four shakes and it stopped, only to go off again. Jax, the persistent fucker that he was, kept hounding me.

  For a week, I managed to avoid him. Had my secretary thwart any attempt at an impromptu visit.

  He was dead set on reminding me of the small but ever tightening noose around my neck.

  “Asshole,” I muttered before taking another sip from my beer. I knew what he wanted. “I’m not desperate enough yet.”

  A ping alerted me to an incoming text, and I tapped the screen.

  Pick up, fucker. ~Jax

  Busy. Stop calling. ~Hendrix

  Rubbing a hand down my face, I scratched my chin. My beard was longer than I’d ever worn it before. Something else I needed to take care of.

  If you aren’t jerking off or plowing into something tight...ANSWER ME! ~Jax

  The last one caused me to laugh aloud. Fucking was a necessary release every few months. A quick smile, buy a drink, and then bend them over the nearest available surface.

  No caresses or sweet words. Quick and dirty.

  Contrary to what Jax believed, I never took a celibacy vow.

  And since we both know you aren’t...stop being an ass and check out your account. You have several ladies ranging from twenty-one through thirty trying to connect. ~Jax

  I’d begun to type in my reply when another came...

  Keep ignoring this and I will set you up with my P.A. Lisa. Coke bottle glasses my friend. ~Jax

  I’ll drive her down to the Keys myself! ~Jax

  A shudder rushed through me. That woman had been trying to ride my dick since the day I met her. Didn’t care one bit that I was attached at that moment and found her repulsive.

  Maybe I was a superficial asshole, but I liked what I liked, and she was not it. Frizzy, over-dyed hair, clothes too tight—short, and most of the time in spandex. Her hideous glasses finishe
d off her look, but it was the nasty attitude attached to her that was my largest turn off.

  Grabbing my keys... ~Jax

  And I’ll shoot you...claim it was self-defense. One look at her, and they will understand I felt threatened. ~Hendrix

  Again, my phone rang and this time I answered and pressed the speaker button. “What?”

  “Did you look?” Like I said before, he was like a dog with a bone.

  “Ask me that again, and I’ll hang up.” And because I was a masochistic man, I booted my laptop once more and read through the emails I’d been avoiding. Why? No clue, when I knew what each one would say.

  One stood out amongst the pile:

  WE’D LOVE TO INVEST IN YOU...

  The fuck? That title alone screamed scam, but I opened it up anyway and then proceeded to crack the fuck up. People in the real estate business had balls; investors more than anyone.

  “You okay there, Parker? Is the world ending?” Ignoring his snide remark, I kept on reading. Jax hated to be ignored. “Hello...did you die? Was the laughter the end of it for you?”

  “First off, fuck you.” Again, I re-read what was supposed to be a short, vibrant email and laughed. “Came across something funny.”

  “Share with the class.” Impatient ass.

  I cleared my throat. “The Lexington Co. wants to invest in me and my newly opened—exclusive—golf course in Cocoplum. Same golf course which is finished, open to the public, and has all the surrounding properties, which I also built, purchased.”

  “Are you serious? Again with that shit,” he snickered while I shook my head. “They are trying to find a way in and buy you out.”

  “Noted, but they won’t succeed. I’m a developer, not a real estate agent or investor who wants to buy and mass produce flips. They want to buy? It’s going to cost them more than an eye to get an in.”

  At the very least, the fuckers in that office were good for a laugh.

  Deleting the message, I scrolled through a few more that I’d yet to open. They all held the same tone...

  You must attend. No choice. Tough shit.

  A few minutes later, Jax let out a long and winded sigh. “Listen, man. I’m not trying to be a pain, but trust me for once. You need this. It’ll help you get through the next few months at least.” I stayed quiet and let him talk. It was more than obvious that if I didn’t, I’d get no peace tonight. “...look at it as if it were a summer hire. An intern of sorts...just that she’d be taking care of you and not the phones in the office.”