Sugar Love Read online

  “Alright then,” Georgia says smiling. “Let’s get you ready.”

  Rosalinda nibbles her lip as she nods, ready to make the move forward.

  ❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

  A couple of weeks later, Rosalinda fidgets on the bed, looking at the letter before her. Sitting next to her are Georgia and Aiden, both equally as nervous. Rosalinda has been in New York for almost two weeks now and it’s been trials ever since she landed. She quickly found out there was a catch for enrollment, however.

  You had to make one outfit at the school in less than five hours before it was strutting down the runway before a panel of judges. Rosalinda remembers biting her nails down to the nubs as her outfit was on the body of a Cuban model.

  Using her home and her culture for inspiration, the model is wearing a ruffled halter-top dress that falls at the top of the knees. Made of ocean-blue glittery fabric, it hugs the model’s curves while also showing off her back. Silver shoes, bracelets, and earrings complete the look.

  Rosalinda stood in the wings with the other candidates while they watched the judges look over each design personally and carefully. After they were dismissed, they waited in complete mortification for the letter she now held in her hands.

  Georgia looks at her. "Well, are you going to open it?"

  "Gimme a minute!" Rosalinda snaps, but it's really from nervousness. "I...just want to look at it more."

  "Girl, you've been looking at it since the mailman brought it up here—4 hours ago!" Aiden snaps. "Open the damn letter already!"

  He hands her a letter opener and Rosalinda takes a deep breath. Slowly and carefully, she slices open the stop and takes out the letter, her eyes scanning over its contents.

  ❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

  Dear Ms. Rosalinda Domínguez,

  Congratulations on your admission to Parsons School of Design in New York! For nearly 150 years, Parsons has proudly welcomed new artists, designers, and more; and we are excited for you to be part of this great tradition. As a member of the Class of 2020, you will join a dynamic student community in a place of endless opportunities. Parsons offers an unparalleled setting for the next chapter of your life.

  The competition for admission was particularly rigorous this year as our freshman class of 150 was carefully chosen from nearly 22,000 applicants. We were impressed by your design of the dress below and believe strongly in your potential for continued success.

  You are a remarkable individual and we are confident that you will make a lasting contribution to Parsons, and to the world. The Parsons School of Design in New York family welcomes you, and I personally look forward to greeting you on campus.

  Karen S. Felton

  Director of Admissions

  ❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

  "I'm not going," Alphonse says bluntly.

  His brother Pascal gives him an exasperated look. Alphonse has been in a foul mood for the last couple of weeks; truthfully, his whole family have all have been. A couple of weeks ago, their rock and soul left this world: their mother. She was dying of cancer and even though she was given the best care, she gave up the ghost. A dark shadow has hung over them for weeks.

  Alphonse, Lucille, and Pascal have always highly valued their mother, the immortal Charisse François. Even though she was born into poverty and had three children by three different men, she treated them all the same. She worked hard for them to have food on the table, to show them that family means everything, and so far her lessons have succeeded.

  However, Alphonse finds it bitterly ironic that Pascal wants to throw a party so soon after her death. He was the closest to their mother being the eldest and golden boy. As soon as he began to make money for himself, he poured it into her care. He thought that maybe there could be a cure found, but in the end cancer ate away at her soul.

  “I said no,” Alphonse snaps. “And that’s it.”

  “Yes, you are,” Pascal says firmly.

  “"Since when do you tell me what to do?” Alphonse grunts.

  "The day that I came into this world by the grace of our Mère," Pascal answers before crossing himself. "May she rest in peace.”

  Alphonse rolls his eyes as he lifts a cup of coffee to his lips. Pascal is hosting a masquerade ball soon, sponsored by one of his companies. Normally, Alphonse wouldn't care, but it’s the type of ball that it is. Alphonse believes that it’s just an escort to service, but Pascal swears it's not that. He says it is a meeting where classy ladies and classy men meet up and make contracts. Right now, he's standing in front of a mirror, trying on what seems to be the thousandth suit.

  "What do you think of this suit, frère?" Pascal asks him.

  Alphonse raises a lazy eyebrow. "It looks just like all the other suits you've been trying on, Pas.”

  "I think it looks very nice," Lucille’s voice says from next to Alphonse.

  "At least someone likes my suit," Pascal says.

  “I don’t see the point of it,” Alphonse says with a shrug. “I mean…it’s a ball for whores.”

  Pascal glares at him. “Will you ever tame that tongue?”

  “You know I can’t ever do that if I want to survive in this world,” Alphonse says with a shrug.

  Pascal narrows his eyes and then he smirks. "You know what? Fine. You can stay home...but I'm taking Lucille with me instead." The effect is just as he thought it would be because Alphonse leaps to his feet.

  "Like hell you are!" he barks. "There is no way my little sister is going into something...like that! Fine then! I'm coming with you!"

  Pascal nods and throws Lucille a knowing look that Alphonse pretends not to notice. He knows that they most likely planned this, but he knows that he can’t go back on his word.

  I wonder what I should wear to this masquerade, he wonders to himself. Maybe white. That would be a good color; with my skin tone, white and gold would be a good outfit. He rests his head on his hand as he thinks of the many different possibilities and outcomes the night will have.

  "What day is it?" he asks Pascal.

  "A week from today," Pascal answers with a smirk. "Everything is set up and the invitations have been sent out; all we need to do is look smashing."

  Chapter Three

  I knew this was too good to be true, Rosalinda thinks to herself in sorrow. I just knew it…

  She thought that she had finally gotten what she wanted, that she could finally look forward and make a new life for her children; she is dead wrong. Not long after she has gotten the letter, the introduction packet came and her world has come crashing down. Looking through the paperwork, she finds out the most shocking thing: going to Parsons costs 40k a term in tuition. There is no way that she can ever afford that. All the joy that she had felt with that letter has now been washed away with this new revelation.

  "Rose..." Georgia, who is sitting next to her, whispers softly. "Rose, are you ok?"

  Rosalinda sniffs, wiping her tears. "Y...yeah...it's over, Gigi…all my dreams...are over. There is no way I can afford 40k a term!"

  Georgia looks at her, slightly wondering something before walking over. She sits on the bed and takes Rosalinda’s hands in hers.

  "Rose..." she says slowly. "I have to confess something."

  Rosalinda looks up. "Alright...what's up?"

  "Have you ever thought...how I can afford this?" Georgia asks.

  "Kinda," Rosalinda says softly.

  "Well..." Georgia says slowly. "The answer is simple: I am a sugar baby."

  Rosalinda looks at her, not really understanding what she said. "A sugar what now?"

  "A sugar baby," Georgia chuckles. "I...I am paid by my boyfriend to be with him."

  Rosalinda tries to process this. Her boyfriend pays her to be with him? "That's it?" she asks.

  "More or less," Georgia says. "Now listen, Rose; there is a way you can still go to this fashion school."

  "How?" Rosalinda grumbles. "I become a sugar baby too?"

  "That was kinda my plan,” Georgia says
sheepishly.

  Rosalinda instantly leaps to her feet, shouting, “Debe estar fuera de su mente maldita?"

  "Rose, calm down," Georgia says. "You know I don't understand a word you say in Spanish!"

  "I said are you out of your damn mind!" Rosalinda hisses. "Gigi! I...I can't become a sugar baby. Someone paying me to be their girlfriend! I mean...what do you do?"

  "When he flies into town, I stay at his house," Georgia says simply. "He takes me out for dinners and I'm his arm candy when he goes to meetings..."

  "And sex?" Rosalinda asks. "Do you spread your legs willingly when he asks?"

  Georgia visibly flinches at her friend’s words. "No," she says tightly and slowly. "That's not in our agreement."

  "Agreement?" Rosalinda asks, suddenly curious.

  "Yes," Georgia says, nodding. "Our agreement. Before a contract is made, there has to be an agreement. In our agreement, sex is consented, he gives me a $15,000 allowance every month, and I am free to do with it as I wish."

  "And the price?” Rosalinda asks, knowing that there has to be a catch to this.

  "Dinners, arm candy, and yes, be willing if he does want sex and I am also in the mood," Georgia answers.

  Rosalinda bites her thumb as she paces the floor, thinking over her words. Maybe...maybe if I could find a guy who...no. She shakes her head. No Rose, you can't be thinking about doing this...can you?

  Doing this will allow her to get into Parsons, and then become the designer she’s dreamed of being. She can make money; young Parsons Designers almost always get internships in their first or second years, and they are paid internships. Alumni of Parsons almost always hire their fellow students, and they pay a lot. She can make this money and send it to her children; they will not have to worry about food, clothing and school.

  She looks to Georgia after a long minute and then exhales deeply. "How...how does it work? How did you meet your...boyfriend?"

  "At a ball," Georgia says, her face lighting up at her friend’s words. "And there is another one coming up in less than a week. Would you like to come?"

  Rosalinda bites her thumb thinking harder, still a bit unsure.

  "If it makes you feel any better, I'm going," Georgia presses. "And so is Aiden."

  "Aiden too?" Rosalinda asks. "Why?"

  "Because his boyfriend is going," Georgia chuckles. "New contracts are made and old ones are touched up at this event. So tell me...will you come?"

  Rosalinda thinks of her children; she thinks of her family. She is a beautiful young woman; it shouldn’t be hard to find a boyfriend that will pay for her time. She must think of their future, so she looks to Georgia and nods.

  Chapter Four

  “Ow!” Rosalinda yelps.

  "Almost done, Rose," Georgia says. "Just have to do this last pin…”

  “It feels like you are stabbing me in the head!” Rosalinda wails.

  “I’m sorry,” Georgia apologizes. “Just one more…ok, done; open your eyes.”

  Rosalinda really doesn’t want to, but slowly opens her eyes and gasps at what she sees. She doesn’t even recognize herself. Georgia has really worked her magic. Dressed in a red floor-length ball gown, black elbow gloves edged with red lace. Red high-heeled shoes with black bows on them, red lipstick. A vintage-looking choker that consists of black lace, and a large red ruby carved in the shape of a rose, with matching earrings. Her hair is tightly curled so that is cascades down her back and bare shoulders. On her face is a half-face red mask trimmed with black lace, and a red rose that attaches to a matching hairpin.

  I look...so different, she thinks to herself in awe. I never would have thought that, never in a million years would I have this much makeup on, or be wearing a dress that costs almost seven-thousand dollars.

  "You look amazing," Georgia whispers softly behind her. "You know...I was always a little jealous of you growing up."

  Rosalinda turns around and looks at her. "Why?"

  "Because you look so beautiful naturally," Georgia answers shyly. "I mean...I'm porcelain in color. I have to use makeup and get boob surgery to get noticed by guys. You...you were the most beautiful girl in high school."

  Rosalinda looks at her dress; it’s almost like hers, but instead of roses she has silver moons with black and silver as her color scheme. She has to admit that it looks beautiful against her creamy skin.

  "Gigi," she says, taking her hands. "You are beautiful too, and you didn't have to get that surgery. I used to be jealous of you. You were a golden girl with grey eyes, blond hair, and pale skin. In some countries, you are worth 50 cows."

  Georgia laughs at that. "Great, I'm worth like what 50 tons of hamburger?"

  "Most likely," Rosalinda teases.

  Georgia smiles and hugs her tightly. "Thank you, Rose, for making me feel better. Shall we?"

  “Yes we shall,” Rosalinda says, smiling.

  They walk to where Aiden is waiting for them in a limo and then climb in, driving away into the night.

  ❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

  The beautiful ballroom is filled to almost bursting with people. Soft and romantic music plays from the speakers and the color scheme is white, gold, and silver; in other words, the symbols of wealth. Lights hang from priceless chandeliers on the ceiling while long tables full of food line the walls. A fountain of what looks like either wine of champagne shoots up at the end of each table.

  People mix and mingle, and Rosalinda notices that she’s the only one wearing this shade of red. There are different shades, but she’s the only one wearing crimson shade; most likely done by Georgia on purpose to make her stand out.

  "What do I do?" Rosalinda whispers as they walk through the room.

  "Talk to someone," she whispers back. "You have some people watching you already."

  Rosalinda glances in the direction she is looking and sure enough, several men are watching her. Her heart pounds in her chest and she nervously begins to fiddle with her fingers only to have Georgia slap them.

  "Stop that," she snaps. "You are a grown ass woman, grow a pair of boobs."

  "You're telling me to grow a pair?" Rosalinda whispers back. "Really, Gigi?"

  "Shut up, you," she snaps, but Rosalinda can see she is trying to not laugh.

  When their stomachs growl, they walk to the food table and look over the foods. More than half of this stuff, Rosalinda has never seen before and tries to stick with that she does know: cheese, shrimp, some kind of pastry, and mini hotdogs wrapped in bread on a stick.

  Suddenly, arms wrap around Georgia's waist and Rosalinda sees her visibly stiffen before forcing a smile on her face and slowly turning around.

  "Gabriel," she says tightly. "You made it."

  The man behind her smirks and kisses her neck, but Rosalinda sees her flinch at the action.

  "I've been looking for you for ages," he mumbles against her neck.

  "I...I just got here," she says. She looks to Rosalinda and then gently pulls away. "Gabriel, this is my friend Rose. Rose, this is my boyfriend, Gabriel Mumford."

  Gabriel looks at Rosalinda and she inwardly cringes; he could pass for handsome, but it would have to be under some very good lighting. His blue eyes have a darkness behind them and when he smiles, she can see that his teeth are yellow.

  "Pleased to meet you," he says, holding out his hand.

  "The same," Rosalinda murmurs, trying to be nice as she shakes it.

  Gabriel grasps her hand tightly and she notices that he's leering at her, as if trying to picture what she looks like without her clothes on, and it’s then that she pulls away, unable to be any second closer to him.

  "So, um...Mr. Mumford, can you tell me about yourself? I didn't really know that much about you." Rosalinda is trying to be nice but if he doesn't stop staring at her like she’s a piece of meat, someone is going to get a foot up his ass.

  "Call me Gabriel," he says. "And I'm in the law business. Which reminds me—Georgia, we have a luncheon coming up soon and you are going."


  Georgia flinches again. "What if I had something planned for that day?" she asks softly.

  "Well then cancel it," Gabriel snaps. "It's in a month and it gives you plenty of time to go to the gym to work off whatever you eat here."

  Georgia takes a deep breath. "Gabriel, my weight is fine. I weighed myself last week, haven't gained a pound."

  "And it better stay that way," Gabriel grunts. "If you want that allowance to continue."

  Georgia flinches and Rosalinda can't believe what she is hearing. Never has she heard a man talk so boldly in front of her; never has she heard a man degrade a woman so shamelessly before. She doesn’t care who this man is, but there is no way that Rosalinda is going to let him get away with this and Georgia knows it.

  "Of course, Gabriel," she says in monotone, needing to get him away before Rosalinda makes a scene. "Look, there are people wanting to talk to you."

  Gabriel looks and nods. "I'm on my way, but Georgia, remember what I said."

  "Of course," she says, still in monotone. She holds still for him to devour her face in a kiss before he winks at Rosalinda and then leaves.

  The storm that Rosalinda has been holding back finally comes bursting through the gates. She curses in Spanish, using language that a seasoned sailor would blush at before turning to Georgia.

  "Gigi, are you out of your damn mind?" she snaps. "Having him talk to you like that?!"

  "You don't understand, Rose," Georgia says. "Gabriel is a...little rough around the edges but he loves me."

  "Yeah, sure," Rosalinda scoffs. "He just showed how much he loves you when he was talking about your weight. Or was it when he told you that you better at the luncheon. Oh, oh, oh, wait I know. It was when the whole time we were talking, he was looking at me as if I was a famous porn star!"

  Georgia flushes red and then grabs her arm, pulling her into a corner. "You don't understand, Rose," she hisses. "This is how it is. Sure, he might talk to me like that, but I take it with a grain of salt and let it roll off of me like water off a duck’s back. I know what I'm doing, so butt the hell out!"

  Rosalinda’s jaw drops. "Wow..." she says. "Just wow. What happened to you, Gigi? What happened to the girl that wanted to go to cosmetology school?"