Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 106(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)
2
Rick
Present day.
I signal for a whiskey from the bartender at L’Artusi, a fancy bar downtown on the first floor of the Reynolds Hotel.
“Thanks, my man,” I murmur after it’s delivered. “Appreciate it.”
I stare at the tumbler for a moment before lifting the crystal to my lips for a slow sip. The alcohol burns as it makes its way down my throat, but in a good way. Macallen always does it right, although I generally appreciate the Rare Cask series more than tonight’s Edition. But it’s fine. Macallen is consistently good stuff, even if it is overpriced.
Then again, I’m used to overpriced because I’m paying for a date tonight. Yeah, what the fuck. Why would a good-looking motherfucker like myself pay for companionship, when I practically have women throwing themselves at me on the streets for free? But I like simplicity. I prefer a straightforward transaction, with no expectation of a second date, a future relationship, or god forbid, a wedding and a diamond ring. I’ve had enough of that shit in the past, and these days, I want a beautiful young woman who hangs onto my every word. She’s got to be sweet as well as spicy, intelligent and yet not sanctimonious, and so gorgeous that my dick goes hard at the very sight of her curves. It’s a tough combination, but I’ve found a service that gets it right each and every time: Sweet Lies.
And yes, you guessed it. Sweet Lies is a sugar daddy website, introducing beautiful young things to rich men who pay for their bodies and time. I’ve met a couple girls through the site, and my understanding is that now, Sweet Lies goes even further. You don’t have to scan profiles anymore, or read the boring bios that people put up. Instead, now the service provides “matchmakers” you can work with. The professional will do all the screening for you, and the possibilities are endless. Brunette? Blonde? Redhead? Curvy, thin, athletic? It’s all there, and you don’t have to lift a fucking finger.
Of course, the concierge service costs extra (what doesn’t cost extra these days?), but it’s fine. I have plenty of money in the bank and nowhere to spend it. I might as well pay for whatever makes me happy, and what I enjoy are young women who look up to me. Who make me feel good about myself. Who stroke my ego until my dick is hard. It’s fucking sad that I’m so needy, but a lot of dudes are like that. We’re Masters of the Universe on the outside, with our corporate power suits, take no prisoners approach and advanced degrees. But on the inside, we’re little boys with a desire to be worshipped, and that’s where the beautiful young women come in.
But I shouldn’t be such a blatant misogynist because I have a daughter who’s college-age, and I’d never want her to do what I do, much less work for an outfit like Sweet Lies. But it’s one of the quirks of being human: people are contradictory with fucked-up personalities. What can I say?
Yet Emma is the light of my life, and has been since she was born. Unfortunately, her mother and I went through a nasty divorce and Vivian won the right to take Emma with her to fucking Florida. Who the hell moves to that state? That place is a shithole swampland filled with crocodiles and hanging chads.
But Vivian disappeared with Emma in tow, and I was broken-hearted at the loss of my child. At the time, I was a young doctor who’d been placed at the best hospital in Minneapolis, and I couldn’t follow them because medical residencies aren’t like jobs. There’s a complicated matching system that pairs up-and-coming physicians with open slots, and I was lucky to land at Abbott Northwestern with a residency in general surgery. So I was helpless to follow them. My wrists were bound. Meanwhile, Vivian moved my daughter thousands of miles away, and I threw myself into work, angry as fuck at my lot in life.
But the years passed, Emma grew up, and we reconnected when my daughter decided to matriculate at Evergreen State nearby. Now, after so many years apart, my daughter lives about twenty miles from me, and incredibly, she’s pre-med too. Of course, I warned her against the profession. Medicine is grueling and the insurance industry is running a fucking scam. But Em’s just like me and stubborn as fuck, so I guess pre-med it is. I’m excited, to tell the truth, but more than anything, I’m happy to have my daughter living in the same city. I text her daily, and am always happy to treat her to breakfast, lunch, dinner, coffee or dessert. Maybe I’m an overbearing dad, but my heart was stolen when my daughter was born, and I’m grateful to have her back.