Sugar Daddy (6 page)

Amy sighed. Hannah was better than she had been in forever. This was so like her. “What if he doesn’t want to be happy? Some people are happy being miserable and making other people miserable,” she argued.

“Maybe he just doesn’t know how to be happy. Maybe he’s spent all his life trying to live up to other people’s expectations and never even considered what might matter to him, give him pleasure.”

“Oooh. I see. You want to give him pleasure!” Amy squealed jokingly.

Blushing three shades of red at the thought of Gavin that close to her, Hannah stuttered, “N…no. I just mean…” She sighed. “Oh never mind.” And with that she hung up.

With three days left in the month, Hannah spent every minute outside of work packing and selling her wares. She had a small storage unit that was filling up quickly. Amy was volunteering numerous hours to help watch the girls while her friend packed and loaded and cleaned.

“Am I your latest pro bono case,” Hannah joked.

“If only. I am supposed to do more of that, but those stuffy rich folks who can’t get along keep me overwhelmingly busy.” She had files spread out all over the floor, since the living room was now devoid of furniture.

Just as Hannah moved to load the last remaining boxes into the SUV, the phone rang. At first she didn’t recognize the warm male voice on the other end of the line, but Rick quickly reintroduced himself.

“I told you I’d be in touch,” he reminded her. He was suddenly nervous, unsure of how this might turn out, given what he was about to say.

“Oh,” Hannah sighed. “I don’t know how to tell you this,” she began quietly, “so, I guess I’ll just spit it out.” She took a deep breath. “I found someone…to take us in. He’s giving me a better job. It’s really a very good deal.” She felt the need to explain.

“I see.” Rick said, the wheels still turning. “I should tell you right now, I’m not calling to offer you exactly what you’re looking for, but I might have solution of sorts to your problem.”

Hannah’s head tipped to one side. “How’s that?” She was undeniably curious.

Now it was Rick’s turn to take the deep breath. “Well, I work for
Creative Loafing
.” He waited for that piece of information to sink in. “My assignment was to see what kind of person advertises for a Sugar Daddy. Have women sunk to a new low? What could drive a woman to demean herself in that manner? That type of thing.”

Her blood was beginning to boil. “So what did you decide?” She clenched and unclenched her fists while Amy watched wide-eyed. She moved to get up, but Hannah shook her head.

“You weren’t what I expected,” he admitted. “I guess I expected some vapid blonde with designs on an easy lifestyle, surrounded by wealth, content to be arm candy for the first willing guy she met.”

“And that’s not me?” Her voice was hard, defensive.

“No, Hannah!” He exclaimed, struggling to explain. “You told me you are a good person, despite what it seemed, and I could tell that already. You’ve just been handed a really raw deal and are making the best of a bad situation.” He scowled. “The system isn’t helping you. Playing by the rules hasn’t worked. And so, you have made an unconventional choice.” He sighed before continuing. This is the part that made him nervous, revealing the reason behind his call.

“You said you had a ‘solution of sorts’ for me?” She said with an edge in her voice. She was more than ready to conclude this conversation.

“Yes. About that…well, my editor found your story fascinating. Despite your problems, you are a success story, a story of hope…”

Before he could offer more explanation, she interrupted. “I’m a story of hope! I have been hanging on by a thread. For six months I have struggled with little money, few possessions, and with only the love and support of my parents and best friend to sustain me.” She shook her head vehemently. “I can’t take care of my kids, the most important things in my life.” Tears welled up in her eyes and she sniffled.

“Hannah,” Rick said gently, “you have a roof over your head. You’re still sane. You didn’t turn to drugs or alcohol. You have never taken your anger out on your children. If anything, this has made you stronger. That is inspiring. That is the story I’d like to tell. That’s the story
Charlotte would love to read.”

“What are you talking about?” She asked exasperatedly.

“Let me write about you and your experiences. It would be a serial, running for as long as your adventures.” He softened his voice as he added, “We’d pay you for it.”

For a brief moment, Hannah thought about it. Share with the world her deepest hurt, greatest shame, divulge that her husband left her for a stripper and deserted her kids, that he not only left them to fend for themselves financially, but that he took everything with him. How could she reveal that and ever show her face again?

“I can’t,” she said, her voice a mere whisper. “I can’t tell anyone about my past, and I swore not to reveal where I would be living or the nature of the contract I signed with the man who has become my guardian angel.”

“We’d keep it completely confidential; change your name, the details, to protect you.” He could feel her closing off. “Think about it,” Rick said. “And keep my number in case you change your mind. Maybe in a few months…”

“Of course,” Hannah murmured. She couldn’t see into the future. Her ability to plan more than a few days in advance had been one of the first casualties of Brett’s departure. It would be foolish to turn his offer down completely when her circumstances could change at a moment’s notice. “We’ll see.” And with that she hung up the phone, unplugged it from the wall, and dropped it into the nearest box.

The last Saturday of March, a mere two days before April was to begin, Hannah left her children with their father for a few hours, despite his muted protests, and prepared to move into Gavin’s home.

“I’ll be back to pick them up at five,” she explained, walking rapidly toward her beat up SUV, overflowing with boxes and suitcases. “I have to move, thanks to you.” Hannah glared at him and he squirmed slightly. “The least you can do, and I mean the very least you can do, is take care of your children for a few hours while I do it,” she snapped.

He sighed. “Okay, but we have plans tonight. No later than five.” He placed his hands on his hips as though delivering some edict.

Her eyes narrowed. “Or else?” She crossed her hands over her chest. She could hardly stand the idea of the kids being around the stripper period, let alone for an extended length of time. She closed her eyes as she imagined having to explain what pasties were or why Krystal’s underwear had no crotch. “Never mind,” she sighed. “I’ll be back in time.”

And without giving him further chance to respond, she blew kisses at the girls, who were waving at her from the window, and headed north to the lake.

Having no idea what to expect, but armed with some knowledge of the area, Hannah drove by mansion after mansion following the detailed directions Gavin had emailed her. She reached the cobbled drive and swallowed hard as she pulled in. She didn’t want to gape, but it was hard not to. Judging by the exterior dimensions, the house had to be at least eight thousand square feet, covered in stucco and stone. It was majestic, but all she longed for was a home.

Carrying only her purse, she hoped to get a lay of the land before moving even her first box. Almost instantly an older woman wiping her hands on an apron that was no doubt a permanent fixture about her waist answered her knock. Hannah knew instinctively this was most definitely
not
Mrs. Meyers, yet still she squirmed under the scrutinizing gaze this woman gave her.

“Follow me,” the woman demanded curtly.

Doing as she said without question, Hannah traipsed along after her, noting the travertine floors that appeared to cover the entire first floor, the dark wood moldings, and the even darker shades adorning the walls that gave the place a cave-like quality. Somehow it wasn’t right. She made mental notes to institute a few changes as soon as possible.

“Ah, I see you found the place,” Gavin said seriously. He stood from behind his desk in the study.

It was definitely a man’s room, but at least there was a hint of warmth here, and not just from the fire burning in the floor to ceiling stacked stone fireplace. The walls were lined with shelves filled with books that Hannah longed to explore. There were two leather chairs angled to face the fireplace and anchoring a colorful Art Deco rug that covered the center of the room. Gavin’s desk, large and mahogany, was clearly more functional than decorative with the papers scattered across it and files lining one side of the desk. Behind it, two sets of French doors covered with gauzy curtains, allowed filtered sunlight to spill into the room, which was painted a soft shade of sage.

Inhaling deeply, Hannah sighed. Leather and wood. This room was Gavin. Tilting her head to one side, she asked, “So, do you have a moment to show me around or should I just find everything on my own?” After dealing with Brett and worrying about the girls the entire drive north, she was feeling a bit peevish.

Gavin raised his eyebrows at her. “I can show you around,” he said. And without another word, he gestured toward the door she had just entered and followed her into the hall.

Though the hall clearly stretched to the left, he turned the other direction. “What’s down there?” She asked pointedly.

He stopped. “You won’t need to go down there. Those are my rooms.” His face was stony as he led her to the kitchen.

She scrunched up her face. Normally she loved kitchens. And this one should have been her dream come true with its granite counter tops and top of the line stainless steel appliances, real wood cabinetry. Instead, it felt as oppressive as every other part of the house, dark and dank, smelling of lack of use. Well, at least that much she could work on. She continued to make mental lists.

There was a keeping room off the kitchen, with a warm stone fireplace that had a rough-hewn wooden mantle. She smiled. This place had potential; she could certainly breathe life back into it. She glanced at the clock over the mantle and scowled. The long drive had cut into her move time.

“What if I look around later? Right now, if you could just show me to our rooms…that’s about all I have time for before I have to go pick up the girls.”

“That’s right,” said Gavin. He had very nearly forgotten that she came with children as he had yet to meet them. “So where are they now?”

Hannah hugged her arms around her body. “With their father,” she murmured.

He wanted to pry. He was under the impression the father wasn’t in the picture any longer. If they were still…on good terms, this would never work. And yet there was something in the way that she looked when she told him where the kids were that he found incredibly reassuring. She wasn’t happy. She wasn’t comfortable. And she was in the worst mood he had yet to see her in. Gavin tipped his head to one side as he thought.

In silence, they walked up the stairs to the second floor. Moving down the hall, he pointed to the first door on the right and opened it. “The girls will have to share a room. Will that be a problem?”

She shook her head. “They’ve never roomed apart,” she commented quietly as she explored the room. This room was utterly untouched. It was as though no paint, save the basic eggshell white coat had ever been applied to the pristine walls. There were two large windows with window seats separated by a large bookshelf. And on either side of the windows were built in cabinets.

“There are other cabinets beneath the seats for storage,” he explained, lifting the hinged seat to reveal the empty space below.

Hannah smiled and nodded. This was a great room for the girls. And with very little effort, she would have their beds made up and their toys and books unloaded before she went to pick them up. That should help them adjust. “This is perfect,” she murmured.

Somehow that admission, the first pleasant interaction between them since her arrival, made a smile tug at the corner of Gavin’s mouth. It took him a moment to realize what it was. And ever so slowly, a smile spread across his lips, only to be shattered when she calmly asked, “And where will I sleep?”

It was an innocent question. He knew the answer; he just could hardly bear to show her. Trudging down the hall with her on his heels like a trained dog, he finally stopped before a set of double doors at the end of the hall. Inhaling deeply, he gave the doors a push to reveal her room, then stepped aside and allowed her to enter.