"So, how did the date go?" Rita asked while counting money.
"You don't have to count, I already know there's a thousand dollars. About the date... I'm confused, Rita."
"Why? Did he say something that disgusted you? Did he ask you to sleep with him?"
"No, but he gave me a pretty clear hint: if we're going to start this 'business' relationship, I'll definitely end up sleeping with him."
"Business? Oh, so he doesn't like to call things what they are, huh?" Rita laughed.
" He is just very polite...and I think he was terrified to scare me or hurt me. Actually , tomorrow his driver will pass me the documents regarding our arrangement."
"Oh, I think things are about to get serious between you two. Phil told me that his friend—what's his name, by the way?"
"Alexander."
"Yeah, Alexander. He's good in business, and he treats his sugar babies well. He plans things precisely. I mean, his net worth is hundreds of millions! I'm just wondering why he only gave you a thousand..."
"Rita, don't make this more confusing! I need tonight and tomorrow to decide. I know being with him could give me financial freedom, but sleeping with him... I didn't think my first time would be with a man more than twice my age..."
Rita sat on the corner of the bed and looked at me.
"Here's the thing. You can feel sorry for yourself, fantasize about your first time, and blah blah blah. I know I'm only four years older, but trust me - I know something! The best first sex is with someone you have zero romantic attachment to. When it's over, you don't feel empty, like you gave a part of yourself to someone you loved and trusted - and then they just left with it."
She's right. My life is at a crossroads; I shouldn't focus on emotional fulfillment right now. I need to dive headfirst into this business, secure my financial foundation, and then work toward my goals.
"I think I get your point. Sounds like you're speaking from a painful experience."
"Yeah. I had that 'high school sweetheart' kind of relationship. Shortly after he took my virginity, we broke up. But at the moment, in the backseat of his dad's car, I thought it meant something. I believed in us..." Rita said, her eyes showing more anger than sadness.
"Fair enough. So, today I learned:
Alexander wants me
b. Do not have first sex with someone you love
c. I'm a thousand dollars richer."
"Yay! Good job, sister! But seriously, how did the date go?"
"Rita, you won't believe it. He booked an entire restaurant just for us. Not sure if that's cool or not, especially since he later told me he owns the place. The whole building, actually."
"Okay, now you're making me jealous! Back when I was your age, I only got to have dinner in some secret bar because my guy was scared someone would recognize us together."
"Don't compare us, please! You're my savior—I'll always be grateful to you!"
I hugged Rita. I know she's struggling, working hard for a better life. If I were her, I'd sell her designer clothes to speed up her savings, but if I mentioned that, she'd go nuts. So, whatever...
"Okay, okay... you know I'm trying my best to get out of this shithole. Even with a returning client, I can't make enough. Please don't be like me—I have high hopes for you!"
"You mean, 'the student outgrows the master'?"
Rita stood up and went into full dictator speech mode.
"No! You are you, I am me! We're both going to become rich and independent, and move into a big apartment! You'll get into college, I'll keep shopping but without hurting my bank account. Maybe I'll even settle down for love... but for ALL of that, you have to say yes to Alexander!"
Sunday, April 29. 8:00am.
I woke up to someone knocking on the door. I went to check who it was—it was definitely not Rita or her client. Rita guards her privacy to the extreme, mostly because she feels ashamed of the place where she lives. As I walked through the living room, I saw signs of the previous evening: uncomfortable heels, my dead phone, and an envelope...I felt a burst of emotions rush through me; yesterday felt like a movie.
The knocking didn't stop—someone was really trying to get in. I looked through the peephole and saw...John! How did he find our apartment? Jesus! I don't remember telling Alexander or him my actual address. I quickly opened the door while I heard Rita scream:
"Who is busting my door?!"
"Rita, wait!"
I opened the door to John. He was standing in the same tidy, formal suit with a thick paper stack in his hands...and an iPhone box.
"Good morning, Miss Charlotte. Mr. Montrose asked me to return this to you. He also wanted me to tell you the phone already has an activated SIM card—please use it only for business matters."
"John...how did you find me? How did you find my place?"
Suddenly, Rita appeared from the bedroom, wearing only her bra and panties.
"Our place!" she declared.
John and Rita's eyes met, and instead of screaming, Rita said:
"Is this Mr. Montrose? Hi!"
"Rita! This is his driver! Please give us a minute!"
John didn't even bother to answer Rita; his expression remained unchanged.
"Oh, shoot! Sorry!" she said, disappearing back into the bedroom.
"Ms. Charlotte..." John continued,
"...The power of Mr. Montrose is not something you should question. He knew your address and your friend's address before you even met him. He allowed me to tell you this, and he believes it is good manners to keep a respectful distance on the first date."
"Well, since we have no secrets anymore, when should I give these papers back to you?"
"Whenever you are ready, Miss Charlotte. Just use your new phone to send me a text."
I already knew I would say yes - I just needed to read through the document. It's a sense of deep desperation pushing me to agree; I'm ready to dive into the world of an arranged relationship with a man who could easily be my father, rather than dive into misery.
For me, misery isn't an emotional state but a lack of money and options for my future. This is a moment when I can take advantage of the fact that I've never been broken romantically, unlike Rita or many girls my age. No heartbreak from boys or even men makes me a robot in this "business". Only I need to keep this mindset, and I'll make myself proud.
"Thank you, John. Have a good day."
I closed the door and went straight to the kitchen island to read the papers. Meanwhile, Rita went to make us coffee. That is exactly what I need to brain the information.
I flipped an empty paper that was covering the contents of the other papers and saw this:"Document , that defines the terms of an exclusive personal arrangement between Charlotte Taylors..."
And he knows my legal name. That scares me. What if he dug into my past? What if he knows I lied about being an orphan?
''...and Alexander Montrose, hereinafter referred to as "The Companion" and "The Benefactor."
It feels like I'm reading a document meant for a queen receiving foreign land in some centuries-old kingdom. This contract was clearly stitched together by his lawyers, which is wild—how many more people are, at least partly, involved in my relationship with him? How do they all manage to keep their cool about it?
As I read the document and sipped my coffee, trying not to be distracted by Rita's nonstop chatter about how cool it is for me to be dealing with such a powerful man, I found myself slowly reaching Alexander's "Powerzone" section of the contract.
"Companion must not disclose any information about the Benefactor's personal, work, or marital life."
Of course he's married—just like most of Rita's clients. That's an unspoken rule about being a sugar baby or escort: you will end up involved with married men. It's almost an unbreakable deal—along with the secrets and benefits, you must hide from his family, always worrying not just about him breaking up with you if he gets caught, but also about his wife finding out.You become a secret agent whose mission is to deliver sex, your body, and sometimes you pay for it with your mental health, your tears, and your soul. It's an extreme definition, but it all depends on how far you're willing or forced to go.
"No photos or recordings of the Benefactor should ever be made by the Companion. Never appear publicly with the Benefactor, unless he says so."
The confidentiality section made sense to me. I don't want this to become public either—I can't imagine the stares I'd get at school, or worse, at university. It's my reputation as a young woman in society on the line. I know what I'm about to do isn't something you brag about, so I fully agree with keeping it secret.
Now comes part three: "Conduct and Boundaries." What does that even mean? The confidentiality section wasn't enough—he needs more rules?
"Companion must answer Benefactor's calls and texts, unless the Companion is at school. Companion must maintain discretion and emotional composure during meetings. No guests allowed at meetings with the Benefactor, which will be organized by him."
I get this part—no problem, Mr. Montrose. No emotion and all protection. Except...what is "emotional composure"?
"Rita, what does 'emotional composure' mean?"
"I'm flattered you think I'm that smart, but I really don't know what it means!" Rita said, almost choking on her coffee.
"Should I text him? He gave me a new phone for that..."
"Forget it, it's probably just another fancy expression. Just sign it already!"
Rita tried to take the document away from me.
"Enough! I'm the one giving him my virginity! You already gave yours away! Give me the papers back!"
Rita rolled her eyes and handed Alexander's offer back to me.
"Section four, "Support and Compensation.
Companion will recieve financial support in a 1000$ per meeting and 5000$ per sex, respecfully. Luxury gifts, short travel outside of New York and arranged housing, ownded by Benefactor, comes additionally, apart from meetings. Benefactor also resposible to provide safety for Companion."
He is...caring, but controlling.
"How much is he offering you for dates?" Rita interrupted my reading.
"From $1,000 for a date to $5,000 for sex."
"You better be into him! Imagine how much you could make!"
"Just dating sounds like enough for me..."
"Charlotte! Don't be a dummy! This is written to give you an illusion of choice! Of course he'll want intimacy with you! Powerful men need to release their stress frequently!"
I need to start watching tutorials on how to be good in bed—or find seduction tips for older men, if those even exist. What's harder: seducing an older or a younger man? Whatever the answer, I know neither...
"If you're right, why isn't he honest in this contract with me?" I asked.
"Because he's a man. Just accept that you'll be having lots of sex and find a way to enjoy it. If you can't, it'll be hell of a ride for you—in every sense."
I went on to the next section, circling Rita's words in my mind.
"Exclusivity, section 5.
Companion must NOT engage in any other sexual or romantic relationship."
As if I want to. I'm trying to hold myself together and not lose who I am in this relationship, and he's worried about other men...Hilarious. If only he knew—I couldn't be like him and juggle more than one person.
"Section six, Termination.
Either party may end the arrangement, after which the Companion must leave the rental property that the Benefactor gave her. Non-disclosure agreement remains binding indefinitely. If Compiaon wishes to renew the arrangement, she can seek or contact Benefactor ONLY if this was discussed prior to separation."
I finished reading the entire document. At the end, there was a signature section—Alexander had already signed his part. He didn't even hesitate to start this with me.
"Before you sign, I must sing a congratulatory melody to you!" Rita said, her voice suddenly went uplifting.
"Wait...I need one more minute..."
"Charlotte, come on! He's a serious man—he wouldn't do anything that could hurt his reputation with you or anyone else. Just sign and get ready to collect your money!"
Without Rita, I'd be doubting every decision so much that I'd never do anything. My anxiety and overthinking make life so much harder.
Rita's attempt to sing a melody set against a background.
I grabbed a pen and signed the document. My signature came out beautiful—unlike me, it didn't show any fear. Only pure confidence and belief in the future.
Sunday, April 29. 1:15pm.
I left a text message for John on the new iPhone Alexander gifted me.
-Hi John, you can come and pick up the documents.
Shortly after, I received a reply.
-Sure, Miss Charlotte. I will be near the door in less than an hour.
Just before putting the phone down, I saw another text notification pop up —this time from Alexander.
-Thrilled to see if there is your signature on a paper. If so, I will see you soon.
I will not reply to him. He should stay thrilled and find out my answer himself. I need an emotional rest from this. On top of that, in less than a month, I have school exams, which are definitely in danger now...