She glares at him and he just looks at her.
I stand there, staring, wondering what the fuck is happening right now.
“Urgh!” Oakley throws her arms up in the air and turns back to face me. “You, go get changed out of your pajamas, put onsomething cute, and then you’re coming with me. You need to meet people, and if you plan on continuing to be a sugar baby, then getting to know the others is a mandatory requirement.”
Opening my mouth to argue, I immediately snap it shut when she bites into her apple, leaves it in her mouth, claps in my face, and points to my room.
Thirty minutes later, I’m dressed in the pink skirt with pockets and a white blouse tied in a knot under my ribs, and in the back seat of a rideshare with Oakley, a little confused about how I got here and more than a little freaking out about meeting other sugar babies.
“Okay, so, today it’s a small group, only three others can join us. Viv, Krissy, and Benny.”
That catches my attention. “A guy?”
Oakley raises an eyebrow at me. “You didn’t just think it was straight daddies on there, right?”
If I ignore the burning sensation in my cheeks, that means it isn’t happening, right? “Well, no. I just hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Benny has daddies and mommies, he plays the field. Same with Krissy. Viv is strictly daddies, like me,” Oakley continues as she scrolls on her phone. “We have a group chat I can add you to if you make it through brunch.”
“Right,” I reply, still feeling a little chastised. “Do they know anything about me?”
Oakley glances in my direction, then back at her phone. “Not really, no. I mentioned that I’d signed my roommate up, but that’s about it.”
“Cool, cool,” is my response, and who the fuck am I?Cool, cool?My nervousness is getting to me.
The back seat goes quiet for the last ten minutes of the drive, Oakley handling the Uber driver as we get out of the car. Looking around at where we are, it’s clear that our meeting spot is thebusy café directly in front of us. The other buildings are all shopfronts, boutiquey looking places, like one shirt will cost me a week-of-tuition kind of thing.
Oakley hooks her arm through mine, and the gesture is so normal for us that I feel a fraction of my tension ease away. “You don’t have to talk at all if you don’t want to. And as much as I bullied you into coming today, they have no idea I’m bringing you. You can engage as much or as little as you like. I just want you to have other people to talk to about your sugar life.”
“What, not interested in the details anymore?” I try to joke, but my throat is so dry it is practically a croak.
She laughs as she guides us forward. “Ha, you are not taking my details away. I want all the details.” Oakley pauses, like her thoughts are buffering. “Ah, actually, maybe not all of them. Like ninety-five percent?”
That makes me laugh. She’s lucky to get forty-five percent. “Sure thing, Oaks.”
As we enter the café, she immediately spots her people tucked into the far corner, and we weave our way through the table and chairs.
“Oakley! Ah, you made it. And who have you brought with you?” a black-haired beauty says as she stands and hugs Oakley, eyeing me over her shoulder as her bob, straightened to within an inch of its life, shimmers with her movements.
Oakley steps to the side and gestures at me until I step forward. “Krissy, this is Emmy, my roommate. The one I signed up to SugarLife.”
I study the other two people at the table—Benny, with his brown curly flop of hair and angelic blue eyes, and Viv, with her gorgeous red hair and lips so pouty they have got to be enhanced.
All of them are gorgeous as fuck and dressed like they have personal stylists.
And then there is me, giving an awkward-as-fuck wave and a grimacy sort of smile.
Krissy shoots a look at Viv and Benny, then comes over to me with her hand out. “Hi, Emmy, it’s really nice to meet you.”
I shake her hand and try to find a real smile. “Sorry if I seem a little awkward. I didn’t know I was coming to this until about twenty minutes ago. Oakley didn’t give me much of a choice.”
Krissy laughs. “Absolutely no worries. We always like meeting new sugar babies. There are so few of us and so many potential clients. And these brunches are a good way to vet the different invitations and accounts, make sure none are duds.”
“Duds?” I query as we all take seats around the table.
Benny offers me a menu. “Accounts looking for freebies or advertising an easy date type and then trying to pressure you into more.”
My lips form an O as I nod along. Scanning the menu quickly, I go with the first thing I see, which is a stack of pancakes with syrup, berries, and ice cream. My eyes almost bulge out their sockets when I see the price.
