Chapter 6

Hannah

For the first twenty minutes, things weren't terrible. Richard ordered an expensive bottle of wine without consulting me, but he was polite, asking about my studies and seeming genuinely interested in my answers. But then the conversation shifted.

"My ex-wife never understood the demands of my position," he said, swirling his wine. "Twenty-three years of marriage, and she still complained when I missed dinner for client meetings."

And just like that, the floodgates opened. For the next forty minutes, I learned every excruciating detail about his divorce, his ex-wife's spending habits, and how the judge "robbed him blind" in the settlement. I nodded and made sympathetic noises while scanning the restaurant for Emma, who was perched at the bar pretending not to watch us.

"Enough about me," he finally said, reaching across the table to touch my hand. "Let's discuss our arrangement."

My mouth went dry. "Okay."

"I travel frequently for business – New York, London, occasionally Tokyo. I'd want you to accompany me on these trips. You'd have your own room, of course, until we become more comfortable with each other."

I took a large gulp of wine. "And when we're not traveling?"

"Dinner twice a week. Various social functions – charity galas, business dinners, that sort of thing." His eyes dropped to my cleavage briefly. "And private time afterward. I'm a busy man, Hannah, but I do have needs."

The way he said "needs" made my skin crawl. I imagined those manicured hands on my body and fought a shudder.

"In return," he continued, "I will provide a monthly allowance of five thousand dollars, plus gifts, expenses, and any tuition costs. Based on what you told me about your situation, I will provide an additional ten thousand dollars, which should more than cover your immediate needs."

It would. It would cover everything and then some. I could pay off Vincent and have money left over. But at what cost?

"I understand this is new for you," Richard said, misreading my hesitation. "You're nervous. That's natural."

I nodded, grateful for the out. "Yes, I'm... this is all very new. I think I need a couple days to think about it. Is that okay?"

His smile was practiced and patient. "Of course. Take your time. I find that the best arrangements come from careful consideration." He reached out and touched my cheek. "You really are exquisite, Hannah. I hope you'll say yes."

An hour later, I was sitting in a dive bar with Emma, downing a shot of tequila to wash away the memory of Richard's fingers on my skin.

"So?" Emma pressed. "What did you think?"

"I think he's boring as hell, and I'd rather die than sleep with him," I said bluntly.

Emma laughed. "Yeah, he did look kinda... weathered. But in a sexy silver fox way, don't you think?"

"No, I don't think! He talked about his ex-wife for almost an hour. And when he touched my hand, I wanted to scrub my skin off."

"Okay, so Richard's a no." She pulled out her phone. "But you've got three more matches already. One of them is only thirty-eight and owns a tech company."

I groaned, letting my head fall onto the sticky bar top. "Is this really what I've come to? Scrolling through a catalog of rich old dudes who want to buy me?"

"Not buy you," Emma corrected. "Rent you. Temporarily. Until you get back on your feet."

"That's so much better," I muttered sarcastically.

Emma ignored my tone, her eyes glued to her phone. "Oh! You just got a new match." She thrust the screen in my face, nearly spilling my drink. "Thirty-two, he owns some kind of business. His profile just says 'entrepreneur.'"

I squinted at the blank profile picture with "VIP" stamped across it. "That's not suspicious at all."

"He might be lying about his age," Emma shrugged, "but we can give it a try. Oh wait, he's messaging you right now!" Her fingers flew across my screen. "He says he's ready to meet tonight."

"Tonight?" I blinked. "As in now?"

"Yes!" Emma bounced in her seat. "He's at a pub called The Lovely Castle. It's literally just down the street. We could walk there in five minutes."

I groaned. "Emma, I can't sit through another boring life story."

"If you pass on this one, you might have to settle for one of those wrinkly old dudes," Emma countered. "This guy is messaging right now. If he finds another sugar baby tonight, you're back to square one."

I glanced at my nearly empty glass, weighing my options. Another evening of mind-numbing conversation versus... what? Going home to my apartment to stress about my bank balance?

"Fine," I sighed. "But you're coming with me, and if he starts talking about his ex-wife's spending habits, we're leaving."

Emma clapped her hands. "Deal! Let me just pay our tab."

Ten minutes later, we were walking toward The Lovely Castle, a high-end pub that made my wallet cry just looking at it. The exterior was all polished wood and brass fixtures, with a small line of well-dressed people waiting to enter.

"This place looks expensive," I whispered to Emma as we approached the entrance.

"That's a good sign," she whispered back. "Means your sugar daddy has cash."

We slipped past the bouncer, who barely glanced at us before waving us through. The interior was dimly lit, all dark wood and leather, with a massive bar dominating one wall. Jazz music played at a volume that allowed for conversation without shouting.

"So where is he?" I scanned the crowded room, looking for a man who might be waiting for a sugar baby date.

"He said he'd be wearing a blue shirt at the corner table," Emma replied, still scrolling through our conversation. "I don't see—"

I froze mid-step. Sitting at a corner table was the mysterious stranger who had rescued me from the drunk at The Velvet Room. He was even more gorgeous than I remembered, his dark hair perfectly styled, his jaw clean-shaven. He wore a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing strong forearms.

As if sensing my gaze, he looked up. Recognition flashed in his eyes, and he raised his hand in a casual wave.

"Emma," I hissed, grabbing her arm. "That's him. The one who helped me with the drunk."

Emma's eyes widened. "No way. What's he doing here?"

"I don't know, but he just waved at me." My heart was racing. "Maybe he's just being polite? Where's the sugar daddy supposed to be?"

Before Emma could answer, the stranger stood up and started walking directly toward us. He moved with the same fluid confidence I'd noticed that night, drawing glances from several women as he passed.

"Hannah," he said when he reached us, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers down my spine. "I was hoping you'd come."

I stared at him, confusion clouding my thoughts. "You were expecting me?"

A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. "I'm Leo82 on Elite Arrangements. I prefer Leonardo Salvatore in person."

My jaw dropped. "You're... you're the sugar daddy?"

Emma made a strangled noise beside me that sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter.