Chapter 1 #2
She smiles mysteriously while taking another sip of espresso.
“I charge a thousand dollars per dinner date. And that’s without tip. Plus, we often dine at Michelin-starred restaurants, so I get a nice meal out of it too.”
I blink, trying to process this information. A thousand dollars for a two-hour dinner with a stranger? This isn’t sounding too bad at all! Still, I have a lot of questions.
“So you never go home with your dates?”
My friend shrugs.
“I have. Again, there’s some kissing and petting, but I’m okay with it. I only pick guys that are good-looking, Misty, so it’s not difficult either. It’s not like I’m kissing a hobo or something.”
I squint, still trying to think through this new information.
“But why would your clients agree to the arrangement, especially since you’re not putting out? I mean, four figures is a lot for just dinner and kisses.”
Jenna shrugs.
“I think they’re bored. I also think that some of my clients have wives or girlfriends, and they’re in a rut.
They want romance in their lives, but they’re not comfortable “cheating,” so to say.
So we never have sex because would be crossing the line.
But they still want the girlfriend experience, and wah-la! I provide it.”
I stare at her.
“But having a romantic dinner with a pretty young woman kind of sounds like cheating. Emotionally, at least?”
Jenna nods seriously.
“I know what you’re saying, but we’re operating in a gray area here, and if I can spice up my clients’ lives in a way that makes them happy, then I’m going to do it.
I mean, put yourself in their shoes, Misty.
Imagine being married to the same person for years.
You’ve heard all their stories a million times, and they’ve heard yours.
Maybe you even have kids together, and your life is now consumed by a carousel of playdates, work, work events, and household chores.
The spark’s long gone, but still, you yearn .
It’s kind of nice to experience romance again, right? ”
I stare at Jenna, still trying to process.
“Okay, you have a point. It does make sense. But how do you know your clients have wives and girlfriends? Is it just something you suspect, or do they actually tell you?”
My friend throws me a look.
“No, they don’t say it outright,” she replies slowly.
“But this is why we’re operating in a gray area.
Sometimes, my clients are wearing wedding bands, and not only that, but they want me to pretend to be their wife or girlfriend while we’re out.
See? These men want romance. There was even one client who brought an engagement ring for me to slip on my finger during our date, and it was like we were a real couple.
I’m telling you, Misty: men have romantic sides too, and I’m filling a gap in their lives.
Plus, I like the job, and it pays a lot.
You should give it a try, girlfriend. What do you have to lose? ”
A million things , the voice in my head whispers. No matter how much Jenna whitewashes it and paints it as “filling a need,” this is still a sketchy situation.
But then, my stomach growls painfully and I’m reminded about my current problems. I’m pinching pennies to afford stale bread whereas my friend is living like a queen. Am I willing to take a job I’m ambivalent about so that I can eat? People have done much worse in times of need, certainly.
But then my morals speak again, and I shake my head.
“I can’t,” I say. “It’s too much, and I’d feel ... I don’t know—”
“Dirty?” my friend asks in a knowing tone. “Filthy? Wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I say helplessly. “Maybe? Yes?”
Jenna smiles mysteriously while biting into her croissant again, her expression serene and unbothered.
She’s the picture of health, and practically glowing from the effects of nutritious food, regular exercise, and professional pampering.
Meanwhile, I know I look the opposite. My straggly hair is a dirty grey-blonde color; I’m wearing glasses because I’m running low on disposable contacts; and my outfit is second hand, including a patched brown sweater and overly-large slacks.
Basically, I look like a hobo, while my friend looks like a perfect princess.
But Jenna and I are buddies. We’re closer than some sisters, and she would never look down on me. As a result, the pretty blonde shoots me a kind look.
“Just think about it, okay, Misty? You don’t have to make a decision now.
Just remember that it’s not a crime to enjoy life.
It’s not wrong to enjoy the company of men, and it’s not wrong to get paid for it either.
The site is called Sweet Lies, so take a look when you have a sec.
There’s no harm in looking!” she sings. Then, Jenna glances at a blingy white watch on her wrist. “Oh my god, it’s almost time for my yoga class!
Okay, girlfriend, I need to roll, but let’s talk soon! ” she says before blowing me a kiss.
Then, my svelte buddy is out the door, with half the men in the café watching as she walks down the street with her golden ponytail bouncing up and down.
I can see why Jenna would be a hit on a sugar daddy site.
She’s young, gorgeous, and playful, as well as clever, smart, and witty.
What man wouldn’t pay a thousand dollars for dinner with Jenna?
Hell, they’re paying even more, judging from what she said about tips.
But I can’t do it. Slowly, I get up and hoist my book bag over one shoulder before busing my coffee cup and plate.
I’m just mousy Misty Earnshaw, with my thick glasses and shabby clothes.
I’m far too shy to do something bold like signing up for a sugar daddy website, and besides .
.. no one would hire me, much less a handsome alpha male.