So Sweet Read online

  SO SWEET

  A Sugar Baby Novella

  Rebekah Weatherspoon

  A Rebekah Weatherspoon Presents

  Contents

  Books By Rebekah

  Praise For Rebekah’s Work

  About This Book

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  What’s Next From Rebekah!

  About the Author

  Copyright

  WOCInRomance

  Books By Rebekah

  VAMPIRE SORORITY SISTERS

  Better Off Red

  Blacker Than Blue

  The Fling

  At Her Feet

  Treasure

  THE FIT TRILOGY

  Fit

  Tamed

  Sated

  Praise For Rebekah’s Work

  “There are actually more really great romance authors out there, but it's only every now and then that you come across writing that makes you say, "This author is going places." Rebekah Weatherspoon is one of those authors.” - Pandora Esperanza, The Last Word Book Reviews

  AT HER FEET

  “Indeed, the more I read At Her Feet I came to realize that it is the best and most original book that I have read in any genre for a very long time.” – Jim Lyon, The Seattle PI

  FIT

  “I felt satisfied by a complete story at the end, and would highly recommend this to anyone looking for a fun, relatable contemporary romance.” - Elisa Verna, Romantic Times Book Reviews (TOP PICK REVIEW)

  TAMED

  “The second in Weatherspoon's Fit series, "Tamed" is another must-read for fans of BDSM romance. - Elisa Verna, Romantic Times Book Reviews (TOP PICK REVIEW)

  TREASURE

  “This story is rich yet beguiling, magnificent yet down to earth, and intriguing yet heartwarmingly human.” – J.J., Rainbow Book Reviews

  About This Book

  Desperate times call for desperate measures...

  And desperate is the only way to describe Kayla Davis's current situation. Out of work and almost out of money to cover her bills, Kayla finally caves to her roommate's nagging and follows her to Arrangements, an online dating site that matches pretty young women with older men of a certain tax bracket.

  Convinced this "make-rent-quick" scheme will surely fail—or saddle her with an 80 year old boyfriend—Kayla is shocked when Michael Bradbury, Internet billionaire and stone-cold salt and pepper fox, offers her a solution to all her financial troubles.

  It's hard enough for Kayla to accept his generosity, but what's a girl to do when the wealthiest man she's ever met is a dream in and outside of the bedroom?

  To TL, for suggesting that I write something just for you.

  You’ve created a monster. I hope you’re happy.

  And to KB and AR. Thank you for sticking by me.

  One

  I was so numb, sitting behind the wheel of my car. The AC was cranked, blowing an excessive amount of cold air across my face, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn it down. Over thirty applications, and ten interviews, and I was no closer to finding a new job. My savings were running low and I was one rent check away from kissing the rest of my severance pay goodbye. Unemployment was helping, but if I didn’t find something soon…

  I knew what would happen. I’d worked so damn hard. Gotten my degree, landed a job as a corporate HR clerk with one of the larger cellphone carriers. The job was as boring as hell and a complete waste of my education, but the pay was good enough to support my lifestyle and I’d learned a lot about the corporate world. I was paying off my student loans, living in a spacious apartment that I loved and, three weeks before they canned me, I’d picked up my first new car.

  Over the past few months I’d fantasized about going to the dealership and just giving it back, like that sort of thing happened without adding major blotches on your credit. I’d have these moments, like this moment in traffic where I wondered what would happen if things got that far, if I was forced into true survival mode. I would hear my mom’s voice in my head. “You gotta do what you gotta do, baby girl.”

  A loud blaring horn snapped me out of my trance. The light was green.

  Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad if my roommate wasn’t out of a job too. Adler had worked as a personal assistant to Greg Wilson, a producer at Hourmark Studios. After four monumental flops at the box office he’d been forced out and, during his impassioned exit, taken Adler with him. It didn’t take long for his emotional spiral to land him in rehab, leaving his wife and kid with no source of income and Adler without a job. She was helping pay for food and other bills, but her savings were running dangerously low too.

  Both of us had emotionally supportive parents, but we’d both come from small towns where everything was cheaper than life in L.A. When I had a job, I made more money than my mom and my half of the rent was more than my parents’ mortgage. They could offer long distance hugs, but not a dime to get Adler and me through this. At least not enough dimes to help us keep up with our current living situation. We were so fucked.

  Adler was waiting for me when I walked in the door. I’m sure the answers to all of her questions were written all over my face. “Oh fuck. What happened?”

  I threw my purse down on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. I was not going to cry. “They didn’t even interview me.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I was waiting in the lobby and the interviewer comes out with this guy and they’re laughing and having a grand old time. The guy leaves and the receptionist introduces me to Christian, the guy I’m interviewing with, and he just goes, ‘Oh, I’m sorry Miss David—”

  “He called you Miss David?”

  “Yeah! The girl said Davis and he still got it wrong. So I guess he hired the guy before me on the spot. He kinda apologized and I just turned around and came home.”

  “Okay. Well that decides it, right?”

  “Decides what?”

  “Kayla, I’m signing up with Arrangements again.”

  “Ads, no.” I flapped my arms out of sheer frustration.

  “I’ve done it once and I can do it again.”

  In college Adler had signed up with Arrangements, a dating site that matched college girls with wealthy men who wanted to support them, basically in exchange for sex. After a few duds Adler had been matched up with an oil tycoon who’d paid off her school loans and then promptly died on top of her four months after graduation. She’d found humor in the situation. The guy was old, after all, but her laughter died when it dawned on her that Jed hadn’t left her any cash.

  “I’m a little rusty, but I think I still got what it takes.”

  “You say it like you’re a breath away from menopause. You’re twenty-three.”

  “I don’t know, deary.” She licked her lips like she didn’t have any teeth. “This pussy isn’t as tight as it used to be.”

  It felt good to laugh, but I still didn’t like the idea. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll just throw my hat back into the ring. It’s not as bad as it sounds. I get to pick the guy I date. And if I can’t find anyone, I’ll try something else. Or wait a bit and try again.”

  “We can strip,” I joked. I wasn’t very coordinated in ultra-high heels.

  “That’s not a bad idea. You’d be good at it. I’ve seen that ass jiggle. You got plenty to shake. Yeah, girl.” I rolled my eyes after she rolled her hips and shimmied her shoulders.

  “I know, it’s a gift. I still think Arrangements is a bad idea.”

  “Why? We need money. Some old man will give us money. We will use that money for goods a
nd services. And rent.”

  “Can’t I just be worried?”

  “You just think every man is a murderer.”

  “Every man is a murderer. You’re gonna get murderered.” I pretended to sob as I flopped down on the couch beside her.

  “You should do it with me.”

  “What? No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Um let’s see.” I gestured to her slim figure. “Cute, petite white girl.” Then I gestured to myself and my not-so-perfectly tailored skirt suit. “Chunky-plus black girl. The type of rich guys I would attract are still bitter about slavery ending.”

  Adler snorted. “You are freaking beautiful. And you are not chunky.”

  Adler wasn’t completely wrong. I was cute as hell. I’d always had super clear skin and I’d inherited my dad’s to-die-for dimples. Thanks to some referrals at work I’d found a great woman to do my sew-ins. The eighteen inches of Brazilian Remy I was currently sporting were styled to perfection. I knew how to dress myself, but I was definitely on the plus-size side of things. I attracted a certain kind of man, the older creepier uncle types that hung around gas stations during the day and definitely didn’t have enough money to cover our rent.

  “I doubt there are any daddies made of sugar who’d want to sugar me,” I said.

  “Oh yeah they would. Sugar right all over those double D’s.”

  “You are the worst.”

  “Just think about it. I’m signing up today. At the very least I get no bites. Best case, I find a great guy who wants to shower me with rent money and diamonds.”

  “Will you share your diamonds with me?” I asked with a pout.

  Adler just barely touched my cheek. “You know I will.”

  “Great. Diamonds or no, I don’t think you should do it.” I kicked off my kitten heels and headed for the kitchen. “Is there any pizza left?” I asked as I went.

  “No...” That stopped me in my tracks. Adler looked extra guilty when I turned around. “I ate it. But I think there’s still some minute noodles.”

  “Just what I need for the old blood pressure.” Still, I went to the kitchen and put some water on. Food, shower, and then back to the job boards.

  ✶

  I decided to give myself a break, just for the night. I had to take a deep breath, clear my mind of the job interview that never was, using the best our streaming video services had to offer as a salve. I knew in the morning I’d have a clearer head and be in a much better place emotionally to keep the job search going. I woke up refreshed and determined, and applied for three jobs before lunchtime.

  Adler signed up with Arrangements. I didn’t think she was making a bad choice, just maybe not the best choice and I wanted her to be safe. Her first two weeks back in the ring bore very little fruit. A few dates, a few free meals, but not the big payout commitment she was looking for.

  Those two weeks weren’t very successful for me either. More applications than I could count, only three callbacks and still no offers.

  I felt nauseous as I filled out our next rent check, all sorts of desperate questions bouncing around in my head. What was it like to get evicted? Did I know anyone who would let me stay on their couch? How long could one sleep in their car?

  When I got back from our landlord’s drop box, I asked Adler what her next move was going to be. In doing the mental math, if one of us didn’t get a decent paying job in the next three weeks, we were out on our asses. I factored in the two weeks we’d actually have to work to get a check and the two-week’s grace our landlord was rumored to give if your situation was really tight.

  We had food and I was only using my car to get to and from interviews, but we needed a plan. Better yet, a concrete solution.

  “Okay. I know you’re going to say no, but Arrangements is having a mixer this weekend. I think you should come.”

  “Ads, I don’t know.”

  “You have literally nothing to lose. Think of it this way; are you opposed to being a housewife who lets their husband support the family financially?”

  “No. I kinda want that actually.”

  “So imagine you’re a housewife, but no kids and you don’t have to see your husband every day, and he still pays for everything. And then you may or may not have sex with him.”

  “I just—”

  “What’s the fear? What’s really bothering you about this?”

  “That it means I failed? I got out of North Carolina, got this far, but still couldn’t keep it together.” Technically becoming a sugar baby was sex work and I had nothing against that. I had friends at home who danced and a college classmate of mine made a killing as a cam girl. But I figured I had to be desperate and past the point of failure to try something I’d be so horribly bad at. I was terrible at faking it.

  “Kayla. You didn’t fail. You got laid off due to absolutely no fault of your own. I think failure would be giving up and moving back home, which is the last place you want to be.” She was right about that part.

  “And you don’t need to do this forever. Think of it like a heist. Wait no, that’s still illegal and you don’t like illegal. Think of it as a trip to Vegas—”

  “Oh my god, stop. I get it.”

  “Just try it with me. Come to the mixer and if you meet someone you like then it all works out. If not, we come home and we plan a heist.”

  “You sure they’ll take me? I still don’t think I’m the type.” The white petite blonde type.

  “Trust me. You’re someone’s type.”

  “We’ll see.”

  I grabbed my laptop, pulled up the Arrangements website and let Adler comment on every keystroke I made as I set up my profile. “If they reject my application will they email me or will someone come here in person to laugh in my face?”

  “Will you shut up!” Alder laughed. “They won’t reject you. The very, very worst thing that can happen is that no one…bites.”

  “No, the worst thing that could happens is that I meet a murderer.”

  “Whatever. You’re almost done. You just need to add a profile picture.”

  I didn’t have any headshots, but I was in a wedding a few month back and was able to crop some of those candids down to pretty spectacular profile pictures. I picked the most flattering option and uploaded it to my profile.

  “Okay perfect. Now click on the events tab.”

  I did and there was only one event listed:

  Meet and Mingle

  Peak, West Hollywood

  Saturday June 20, 2:00pm

  “Why is it in the afternoon?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, actually. The last one I went to was in the afternoon. Maybe so the men can get a look at us in daylight.”

  “Or maybe any night functions would be past their geriatric bedtime.”

  “Okay, you cannot say stuff like that.”

  “I won’t. To their faces anyway. Cross my heart.”

  I clicked the ATTEND button under the details. “Now we wait,” Adler said.

  “For what? I thought you said I wouldn’t be rejected.”

  “Will you just wait? Let’s walk down and get yogurt.”

  “With what money? We’re on a budget, toots,” I reminder her.

  “Uh… free samples. Duh.” Adler jumped up and came back with her flip-flops. I stared at my inbox until she was standing by the door, tapping the jam, waiting for me to get a move on. I bought two bucks worth of yogurt to cover all the “samples” Adler tried.

  When we got back there was an email from Monica Lawrence, Arrangements’ “Social Manager”.

  Hi Kayla, Welcome to Arrangements and thank you for RSVPing to our Meet and Mingle. Over forty men from around Southern California will be in town to meet that special someone, someone like you.

  “Oh, that’s smooth,” I muttered.

  I call the dress code garden party chic. Light and flirty, but not nightclub. Please feel free to contact me or my associate, Ryan, if you have any questions. Can’t wait to meet you. - Mo
nica

  Ps. Love your pic. Too cute! :)

  “See?” Adler rocked on the couch beside me.

  “What if she hadn’t loved my pic?”

  Adler shrugged. “We’ll never know. You’re too cute.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “We shop.”

  Thanks to my bum roommate I was already two dollars poorer, but this time Adler was onto something. If I was doing this, I was doing it in style.

  ✶

  We both looked cute as hell when we arrived at Peak, Adler in her strapless floral number and me in my tangerine halter maxi dress. The club was smack in the middle of West Hollywood. It boasted a retractable roof that opened over the dance floor and bar area for perfect ventilation while twerking up a sweat. That Saturday afternoon the open ceiling flooded the venue with natural light, bright and inviting.

  Monica greeted us at the door. She was extremely tall and bubbly, spray tanned and bleached blonde. I instantly liked her, mostly because she seemed genuine and her laugh was hysterically awkward and infectious. I kinda wanted to hang out by her the whole time, but after she introduced us to Ryan—an effeminate brunette around our age, with only a little less bubble than his associate—Monica practically shoved us into the room.

  There were girls. Tons of girls, and a buffet of finger foods and champagne.

  “Just smile and be yourself,” Adler whispered to me before she swan dove into the first cluster of men we encountered. Being the good friend she was, she pulled me with her, but I was so shocked by how not herself Adler was being I just watched, stunned, after we were all done exchanging names.

  Adler was a flirt. I teased her once that she probably winked at the doctor the moment she came out of her mom, but I never knew she could turn it on so good, so strong. The first five guys we met ranged from older, yet moderately attractive, to resurrected forefather, but Adler charmed them all, smiling, touching, giggling, asking all the right questions. I had my own jokes, but as soon as the attention turned to me I found myself clamming up. I wasn’t interested in any of these men and, worse, I didn’t want any of them to be interested in me.