Sugar Baby Page 3

  "Do you work for..." I started to ask, trailing off.

  "I work for a limousine service," she said.

  "This isn't a limo."

  "This is our nondescript version," she said. "It's not so flashy."

  After that, we made small talk as she drove me to my first appointment, a twenty-minute drive across town. We pulled up in front of a large steel and glass building in the heart of downtown Minneapolis. Melly put the car in park and then turned around. "I can't wait here, so you should call me when you're done with your first appointment." She handed me a business card and waited for me to put it in my purse. "I'll meet you back here when you're done."

  "Thank you, Melly."

  At that, she got out, walked around the car, and opened the door for me.

  * * * *

  I rode the elevator to the sixteenth floor. It wasn't remotely the top of the building, but when I stepped off the elevator, everything looked quite sophisticated and expensive. I turned left, passed through a heavy glass door, and stepped to the receptionist. She smiled warmly as I approached, but then she held up a finger.

  "Fox, Rose, Rice, and Associates," she said, and I realized she was taking a phone call. "How can I help you?" Pause, pause. "Of course. Let me patch you through to Mr. Dunn's assistant and she'll be able to take care of you."

  There was one more pause, then her eyes focused on me. "Good morning. How may I help you?"

  "My name is Astrid Ahlstrom. I'm supposed to have an appointment."

  "Of course." She looked down at her computer screen for a moment, then smiled again. "If you'll take a seat, I'll inform them you're here." She gestured, and I moved to one of the very plush seats in their waiting area.

  It wasn't a long wait, perhaps only a few minutes. And then another woman was standing about ten feet away. "Astrid Ahlstrom?"

  I looked up and smiled nervously. "That's me," I said. I stood, and as I approached the woman, she held out a hand, returning my smile with far more confidence than I carried.

  "I'm Sadie," she said. "I'll take care of the paperwork with you and then we'll meet with Norah. Right this way, please."

  Feeling very self-conscious, I followed the professionally-dressed woman deeper into the law office. We arrived at a small conference room, and she gestured me inside then closed the door. She gestured to a seat at the table, waited until I was seated, then took the seat opposite me.

  Waiting for us was a manila folder and an Apple iPad. Sadie opened the folder, glanced at the top sheet, then looked up at me.

  "All right, Ms. Ahlstrom. Let's start with identification."

  "Sure," I said. "Could you call me Astrid?"

  "Of course," she said. "Astrid."

  I retrieved my driver's license and social security card from my purse, passing them across the table to her. She examined both carefully then studied me and the driver's license, presumably comparing the photo to be sure it was really me.

  Then she quizzed me, which I guess I should have expected.

  "Date of birth?"

  "February 14, 1995."

  "Social security number." I recited it. "Address?"

  "I live at the college now," I said. "I don't know where I'm going to live during the summer."

  "Address as it appears on your driver's license, then," she said. So I told her. Then she asked a few more questions before nodding.

  I expected her to return the cards to me, but she slipped them into the folder. "Um," I said, pointing.

  "I'll return them later," she said. "I need to photocopy them."

  "Oh, right."

  She switched to the iPad for a moment. "I need to collect your fingerprints," she declared. "Please remain seated." But she stood and walked around the table to me. She set the iPad in front of me then said, "This is easier if you let me touch you."

  "Of course."

  She took first my right hand. One by one, she rolled the tips of my fingers across the front of the iPad, each in its own little square. She finished with one hand and then collected the other. Then she took the iPad, examined it for a moment, and made a satisfied sound. "Very good."

  Sadie returned to her side of the table then said, "We have a number of things for you to sign. I am going to give them to you to read."

  "Am I going to understand them? Are they in legalese?"

  "We cannot advise you, Astrid. Our client is Gentle Affection. If you are uncomfortable signing these papers today, you are free to seek outside counsel. Perhaps you would care to read them first and then you can decide."

  "All right."

  She withdrew several thick stacks of paper and set them in front of me. "This is a loan agreement. You will want to read the terms. This is a release authorizing a background check. This is a release of your medical records. Then we have a non-disclose agreement. And finally there is a privacy statement. We have two copies of everything."

  Then she sat back as I began reading.

  Jean had warned me about the loan. Gentle Affection was about to spend money on my behalf. In the scheme of things, it wasn't very much, and I would only have to pay it myself if I backed out of my agreements. I read it through carefully then turned to my purse to find a pen.

  "Please do not sign them yet," Sadie said. "Norah will wish to speak with you first."

  "Of course," I said, pushing my purse aside.

  The other forms seemed to be some sort of legalese boilerplate. I didn't know anything about any of this, but they were just what Sadie had said. One was a one-paragraph authorization to perform a background check. It didn't specify what sort of checking they would do, but Jean had promised they were discrete. The third was clearly a release of medical records. It was the first and the fourth that were the longest.

  I'd heard of non-disclose agreements, but I'd never seen one before. I read it carefully. Basically it made dire promises if I disclosed my patron's secrets without their permission. I read it through carefully and got a little nervous.

  The last was even denser, but I carefully read each word. I didn't understand half of it, but I understood Gentle Affection would hold my information private, sharing only with potential patrons. However, they weren't liable if one of those patrons did naughty things with my secrets. I sighed about that but said nothing. I didn't really have secrets, anyway.

  Finally I looked up at Sadie. I tapped the non-disclose agreement. "Can you answer questions?"

  "You should talk to Norah about that. She'll be here in a few minutes."

  I paused. "Do you know what all this is for?" It was her turn to pause, then she inclined her head just once. "Do you think it's terrible?"

  "No," she said gently. "But do you?"

  I looked away. I thought I was about to start crying, but I managed to hold it together.

  "I suppose you're rich or something," I said quietly.

  "Actually, I'm not. I'm still in law school. I'm lucky to have this job. I had to save for seven years after my undergrad." She tapped the papers. "If I'd known about this, maybe I'd have done this myself. But now..."

  I looked back at her. She was attractive, and I told her that.

  "Thank you," she said. "But 30 is a little old."

  "You're not old."

  She shrugged. "No one here is going to judge your choices, Astrid." She smiled. "Hell. The place is full of lawyers." She said it like it was a dirty word. "Who are we to judge?"

  I laughed at that.

  "What are you studying in school?"

  "I'm just a freshman," I said. "I haven't picked a major yet."

  "Well, the world is your oyster, Astrid." She tapped the papers again. "You didn't answer my question. Do you think it's terrible?"

  "I don't know," I said. "But I don't have many choices, and this is better than the others." I put on a half-smile. "Maybe I'll find someone who treats me well, and I'll have a nice time."

  "I think if you don't have a nice time, you need to find someone else," she replied.

  "I'll remember that."


  Just then, there was a knock on the door, and then it opened. Sadie and I both climbed to our feet to greet a forty-year-old woman with a touch of gray in her carefully coiffed hair, dressed even more professionally than Sadie was. She stepped into the room, paused, smiled, and then stepped forward with her hand out.

  "Hello, Ms. Ahlstrom," she said. "I am Norah Day."

  "Please call me Astrid, Ms. Day," I said, shaking with her.

  "Then you should call me Norah," she replied. She moved around the table, and soon we were all seated again. "Have you finished reading the papers?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "I understand your next stop is for a visit with the doctor," Norah continued. "If you do not sign the papers today, that appointment will be postponed. If you require outside counsel, we understand."

  I shook my head. "No. Everything is fine."

  "You understand you are entering into a legal agreement," she said. "Once these papers are signed and notarized, you are legally bound to their terms."

  "I understand," I said. "I didn't see anything that suggested I was offering up my firstborn, future income, or my body to medical experiments."

  "You're not," she said. But she leaned forward and tapped the loan agreement. "But there could be a small loan to repay." She tapped the other papers. "You are giving up a portion of your privacy as well."

  I tapped the last one. "Which you won't disclose."

  "I believe you need to read that one again."

  "Fine. You won't intentionally publish, but you can't promise the potential patrons will be discrete." Then I tapped the non-disclose agreement. "Don't they sign something like this?"

  "Yes, but it's not identical. Do you have other questions?"

  "Would you do it?"

  "Would I sign these without outside counsel?"

  "Would you become a sugar baby?"

  She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table and looked at me intently. "I don't know your personal situation. But I think you've thought carefully about this, haven't you?"

  "Yes."

  "And I bet you've tried to find other solutions."

  "Yes."

  "I think, Astrid, that the world isn't going to hand you success. If you want to succeed in life, you have to reach for opportunity that presents itself." She gestured at the papers sitting in front of me. "This is one form of opportunity. I do not know how thoroughly you have exhausted the other options. And only you can guess how you're going to feel about this."

  "I'm not asking what I should do," I said. "I'm asking what you would do."

  "College wasn't always so difficult to pay for," she said. "There were more choices." She glanced down at the papers. "I'd do it," she said. "If I thought I had to. But I'd be careful, too."

  "For my safety?"

  "For my sanity," she said. "I'd be careful what I was willing to do. It would be easy to let myself be seduced by the money. It would be easy to become something I wouldn't have recognized as myself."

  I looked down, but Norah leaned across the table and lifted my chin until I was looking into her eyes. "If you ever need a friend, Astrid, we're here."

  "I'm sure you're busy."

  She smiled. "There's this thing about busy people, Astrid."

  "What's that?"

  "It's the busy people who know how to make room in their schedules. If you ever need a friend, we're here."

  "Thank you, Norah," I said. "I appreciate that."

  "It's not an empty offer." She released my chin and sat back. "Did you want to seek outside counsel?"

  "Would you sign these?"

  "I cannot offer you legal advice, Astrid. You aren't my client."

  "You can't just say 'yes' or 'no'?"

  "I would negotiate some of the terms," she said. "There's nothing egregious. But unless you're willing to hire a lawyer, I don't believe that option is available to you."

  I tapped the loan agreement. "What if I don't sign this?"

  "If you hire a lawyer, you might be able to negotiate some of the terms. But if you don't sign everything, then we'll wish you a good day and our heartfelt hopes you can resolve your current needs in another fashion."

  I sighed, and that was when Sadie slid a pen across the table to me.

  * * * *

  Melly arrived just as I stepped to the curb. She climbed from her seat to open my door for me.

  The doctor's appointment was in suburbia. Melly told me I could leave the envelope with my papers in the car. No one would disturb them. This time, she could remain parked in the parking lot and assured me she would be waiting when I was done.

  * * * *

  Two hours later, she returned me to my dorm.

  * * * *

  I received a brief email from Jean thanking me for my cooperation. She said so far everything was in order, and she would contact me as soon as they had the rest of the results.

  And so, for the next few days, I fretted, wondering if I was doing the right thing.

  * * * *

  It was Monday afternoon that my phone rang, ten minutes after I got out of my last class. I'd given Jean my class schedule, and I was sure she had made use of it to know when to call.

  "Hello, Jean," I said.

  "Can you talk, Astrid?"

  "Is there a problem?"

  "No problem. That's a question I'll always ask when I call."

  I looked around. "Just one minute," I said. I turned right and headed for the nearest academic building, one of the life sciences buildings. I then roamed until I found a quiet corner at the end of the second-floor hallway. "All right. I'm sorry about that."

  "It's quite all right. Congratulations on becoming the newest member of the Gentle Affection family."

  I smiled. "I passed."

  "Of course you passed. But you knew you would. You have a completely clean bill of health."

  I thought about it for a moment. "Thank you," I said. I couldn't think of anything else.

  "So, I suppose you are wondering what the next step is."

  "Yes."

  "I will release your profile to potential patrons."

  "Will everyone be able to see it?"

  "Only people who match your limits," she said. I could hear her smile. "So none of the guys."

  "Will I show up in random searches for people checking out your site?"

  "I need to make a confession."

  "They're fake, aren't they?"

  "Yes. It would be an invasion of your privacy to let the entire world see your profile, after all. They are, however, representative of our patrons."

  "What about the photos?"

  "Models and then heavily retouched to the point of being nearly impossible to identify."

  "So if I really liked one of them, I'm out of luck."

  "I'm afraid so," Jean replied. "Sorry."

  "It's fine."

  "So, do I have your permission to release your profile?"

  "Yes," I said.

  I heard clicking, and then a moment later Jean said, "There you go. When we publish a new profile, the patrons we think may find you intriguing receive notification. So you should start receiving interest nearly immediately. Remember to check your mail."

  "I will."

  "We also recommend you stick to using our system for communicating with potential patrons for the first few exchanges, but you won't want to drag that period out too long. They'll be anxious to move to the next level fairly quickly."

  "I understand," I said.

  "If you have questions or need someone to talk to, we're here."

  "Thank you, Jean."

  * * * *

  Jean wasn't kidding. The Gentle Affection site included custom email for each of the users. I was now mn-sweetie@gentle-affection.com. I could access my email through a browser, but I'd been a little nervous about having the Gentle Affection logo on my browser screen for that, so I added an account to my mail program. I could check all my mail all at once.

  The first mail arrived befo
re dinner. Honey and I were both in our room studying with the door open. I had a warning alarm on my phone for our typical 6:00 dinner time. When it went off, I set my books aside and grabbed my laptop.

  I had seven emails welcoming me to Gentle Affection. One was from Jean, but the other six were from various women. I read them quickly, and in the time I could do so, one more arrived.

  I had a hard time believing there were this many lesbian sugar mamas in the entire metropolitan area, much less available and interested in me. Although after reading a few of them, I realized I shouldn't jump to that conclusion.

  Jean's email welcomed me to the family and then told me I'd receive a variety of "Welcome" emails -- which was certainly true. She advised I developed the habit of drafting a fresh response email custom to each woman. This would keep the replies fresh instead of looking like a form letter. She included a few samples but warned me not to copy her samples but to formulate my own.

  I read the rest quickly. They were all some form of welcome, with a few asking a personal question or commenting on something specific from my profile. I glanced at the clock and realized I didn't have time to reply to any of them, and I thought I should look at profiles for each of the women first, anyway.

  I closed my laptop and stood just as the commotion from outside landed at our door.

  * * * *

  I maneuvered myself to walk immediately behind Maggie in the line for food. When I got a moment, I leaned closer to her. "I need to show you something later."

  She looked over at me with a puzzled expression.

  "About that web site you showed me," I told her.

  Her mouth made an "oh" shape, and she nodded. "You finished signing up."

  I nodded. "I got my first emails."

  "Right."

  * * * *

  It was an hour later that found us together in her room. Steph was out for a run, so we had an hour. I brought my laptop, and we sat on Maggie's bed.

  "This first one is from Jean. She's an employee and my main contact there, I guess." I showed it to her. And then I showed her my profile.

  She looked at me. "This is good. I'd sugar baby you."