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Who's Your (Sugar) Daddy?

By: komrad1156



 *Note to readers: I hope the ending is a pleasant surprise to those who think all May-December romances end the same way.

______________________________________

"What time is it?"

"Just after six."

"In the morning? Are you kidding me? Turn the light off and go back to bed. You were studying when I came in at 1:30 this morning for crying out loud." Candice grunted and pulled her spare pillow over her head to block out the light. 

"I'm sorry, but I have a final in organic chemistry at 10 o'clock."

Candice lifted the pillow up slightly and said, "Well, at least you're not laying around crying about the breakup any more so that's a plus. But some of us around here still have a life and we'd like to sleep in." She made another huffing noise and pulled the pillow in tight.

"I got the photo shoot, by the way."

Candice threw the pillow off and sat up in bed. "Are you serious?"

"Yep. It's paying enough to cover half of next semester's tuition."

"Jesus, Meghan. That's incredible. I told you there was no need to worry about losing some guy—or any guy for that reason. You're as smart as any girl I know and you're totally hot. There'll be another guy soon and another one after that." Candice was exhausted. She'd been out all night looking for a guy of her own. Not necessarily to date but just to hook up with. She had one offer but the guy was so ugly she wouldn't have slept with him had she had five more shots of tequila. As it was, her head was pounding so hard she thought it might explode. To make matters worse, there was Meghan who had gorgeous guys flocking around her everywhere she went. She could hook up with some new guy seven days a week but nooooo! Not her. She was looking for Mr. Right to date, marry, and settle down with. Candice's last thought before she lay back down to finally get some sleep was how she'd give anything for just 10% of Meghan's beauty. Not all of it. Just the cream off the top. She wouldn't even miss it and maybe that way she could laid once in a while.

The relationship. Meghan didn't have time nor the inclination to start thinking about that again. When she told the guy she'd loved and dated for two years she was going to a different college, he was stunned. It became such an issue that he told her he wanted to take a break. Meghan was stunned and she was hurt but the school she'd chosen was a lot closer to home and it had a better science program and that was that. Or was it? 

She wanted to ace this test and it was the hardest class she'd ever taken. Sure, she had a 97% average but anything but an A but be unacceptable to her. Her parents both worked to pay her tuition, room and board, and the only way Meghan could even try and repay them was by working hard and doing well. Then again, she'd always worked hard and done well. It was in her DNA. She was good at everything she did and in spite of being an incredibly attractive girl, she was also very kind, very thoughtful, and always polite. She had every right to be a college snob, but she was anything but and she attributed that to the upbringing her parents provided.

They'd been married 25 years and had always sacrificed for their only child. They often willingly went without to ensure Meghan went to the best private schools, had piano lessons, and was able to swim and play tennis. In a word, she was their pride and joy and she loved and appreciated them for everything they'd done for her. 

Meghan tried not to think about it, but it was impossible not to. Her dad had lost his job eight months ago after 22 years with the same company and two months ago his health insurance coverage had run out. Mom's job didn't offer health insurance and what people called Obamacare was so expensive and the deductible so high, they just couldn't afford its "affordable" healthcare. It was just so hard for a man in his forties with a high school education to find another decent, well-paying job. So Meghan did whatever she could to help out. This photo shoot was paying almost $3,000 and that would go a long way toward that end.

At noon, she turned in her exam feeling pretty good about how she'd done. She knew the answer to every question and felt confident she'd gotten the A she wanted. She may have even aced it. All she needed to do now was pack her stuff and drive home for the three-week winter break and get ready to do it all again. Well, after the photo shoot, that is.

One of the benefits she received for doing the shoot (in addition to the paycheck) was being able to keep each of the four outfits she modeled. When she left, she walked away with the check in her purse and a garment bag containing two beautiful dresses as well as two very pretty skirt and sweater sets complete with two new pairs of shoes. She laughed when the director told her she keep the jewelry, too. It was all very nice looking, but it was just Cubic Zirconia. Still, it felt nice to have a 'diamond' necklace and earrings. Of course, she now had no one to wear them for, but in the back of her mind she was wondering if she might just run into Steve. Steve Brewer. The one that got away. They'd dated for her last two years in high school while he was at State University before she'd decided to go somewhere else. If he was home from State and still single then, well....

Meghan missed the city. The university was great but it was so quiet. She enjoyed the trees and the serenity sometimes, but she missed the hustle and bustle. Her parents technically lived inside its limits but they were right on the boundary between city and suburb. They were still paying on their modest ranch home and in just five years it would finally be theirs. Meghan pushed the thought of the mortgage and college costs out of her mind. It was Christmas time and she couldn't wait to see her family.

Family. That's what Meghan Keller wanted more than anything. Sure, she wanted a career. With a degree in chemistry, she'd have no problem finding a job with Monsanto or some other large firm that paid well. But more than anything she wanted to find someone she could fall in love with. Someone she could trust. Someone who'd think she hung the moon. Someone who would never betray her and who would treat her like she was the most important thing in the world. But that didn't mean she wanted to be spoiled. She would give as much as she wanted to get. She knew that marriage wasn't a 50/50 proposition. It was 100/100. You first had to BE the right person in order to attract the right person. Then you had to be sure he really was the right person. The kind who gave the other person what they needed rather than what he thought she needed. Giving was an art and giving took on many different forms and meant more than just money. It also included time, and attention, things she and most other women valued more than dollars and cents.

She knew that especially applied to the bedroom. Meghan didn't sleep around but she was no prude, either. She enjoyed sex and had gotten very good at it. More importantly, at least to her, she'd learned what men like and taught herself to enjoy those things as much as the ones she'd enjoyed the first time she tried them. The key was finding a man who felt the same way about giving and getting. She would give 'til it hurt but if he wouldn't do the same, she wouldn't agree to a second date let alone a marriage proposal. 

She thought she'd found the perfect guy in Steve. Sure, she was young but she was exceptionally mature and having watched her parents, she knew exactly what she wanted in a marriage and in life. She was convinced that life and that love would be with Steve. But he'd been so angry at her decision not to go to State even though it was four hours further away than the school she chose.

After that, Meghan had found herself bitter for the first time in her life. She hated the feeling, but she couldn't shake it. After many months of anger and resentment, she finally found a way to put the past aside and move on. She was once again feeling her old optimistic self. Even so, her thoughts turned to Steve as she pulled into the old, familiar driveway and turned off the engine. 

She'd barely gotten out of the car when she saw her dad fling open the screen door and come bounding off the steps toward her. "Meghan!"

She slammed the door and threw her arms open. "Hi, Daddy!"

Tom Keller held his daughter tight. "It's SO good to see you, honey!"

"You too, Daddy. I've missed you so much. Is Mom home?"

"No, not yet. She had to work today, but she's off tomorrow until next Monday. I've been getting everything ready for you to come home."

Her dad helped her carry in her two suitcases while she carried the garment bag and a Christmas present for each of them inside. She looked around and tried not to cry. There was a modest little tree in the corner that was sparsely decorated with just one wrapped present underneath it. Gone were all the lavish trimmings from past years. The room looked—spartan. A sick feeling welled up inside her but she knew better than to ask.

"It's so pretty, Daddy!" she told him trying to keep her concerns in check. She stood next to it pretending to admire the small, scraggly thing as she set her mom and dad's gifts underneath it.

"It's a little less than we've done in the past, but it's quality not quantity right, honey?"

Meghan nodded as they carried her things to her room. At least it hadn't changed. The same familiar posters hung on the same familiar walls and there was her old, familiar bed right where it had always been. It was then Meghan noticed her dad's car wasn't in the driveway even though he was home.

"Daddy? Is your car in the shop?"

Her dad was in the kitchen getting things ready for their Christmas Eve dinner. He didn't look up when he answered. "Uh, no. Mom took it work today, sweetie."

Should she ask? She hesitated then said, "Okay. Then where is mom's car?"

Her dad kept shuffling things around pretending to be busy but there wasn't much on the kitchen counter. Just a large ham and some yams. "Well, you know. We weren't using the other car too much and it didn't make a lot of sense to keep making payments on it and all so...."

Meghan walked up behind her dad and said, "I understand, Daddy." She knew he'd sold it and she knew why. Their savings were just about gone and next semester's bills were due. They'd sold the car to pay them, but there was no way they were going to tell their daughter just how bad things had gotten.

"This looks wonderful!" she lied as she saw the minimalist fare in front of them. 

"Your mom's bringing home some fresh bread from the bakery, too, so this isn't everything."

Meghan told him it was perfect as she turned around to hide the tears that were forming in her eyes.

Her mom did indeed bring home a loaf of freshly baked bread along with a huge hug for her daughter along with a few tears of her own. They were tears of joy, but Meghan could see the worry in her mother's face. Like her dad, she would never, ever tell her how tough things were, but Meghan knew without asking.

The next morning, she'd hoped to see a few more things under the tree, but Santa hadn't come calling like he'd always done in the past. Each of them quietly opened their one gift and made a very big deal out it. Again, no one said a word about the most unusual Christmas they'd ever had.

That evening, Meghan decided to try and talk to them about work and money and school hoping she might be able to offer some help or even some ideas. She began by telling them about the photo shoot and the money she'd made and how she could use that to help them get a second car.

"Oh, no," her dad said. "That's your money, Meg. Besides, you're gonna need it for spending money anyway, so thanks but no thanks."

She sat down between them and said, "I know we don't normally talk about this kind of thing, but can you please just tell me how bad is it?"

Neither of them spoke. "Dad? I know you've been out of work. I know you sold the car. I can take a year off and get a job and help...."

"No!" her dad said loudly. He never raised his voice and it startled Meghan. Truth be told, it hurt her feelings. Much more calmly he said, "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to yell. But no, your education comes first. Period. End of story. You will not take a year off. Your next semester's expenses are paid and we'll worry about the following semester next year. Okay? Now come on. It's Christmas! Let's put on an old movie and make some popcorn like we always do."

Meghan tried to laugh when her dad laughed, but it wasn't real. She not only felt something was wrong, she could see it. He kept blowing on his hands complaining about how cold they were in spite of the room being plenty warm. Halfway through the movie, he began raising his left arm up and saying, "I think I've got some heartburn from dinner."

Her dad was only 52, but he'd been under enormous stress this entire last year. The third time he complained about his arm, she said, "Daddy. I'm scared. Pain in your left arm and in your chest is a classic sign of a heart attack. I want you to go to the ER right now."

He forced himself to laugh and said, "The ER? Are you kidding? I'm fine. It's just indigestion. I'll be fine. I'll just go grab a couple of Rolaids and...."

As he stood up, he clutched his chest as Meghan heard a very loud exhale that sounded like a "whoosh" as her dad collapsed on the floor in front of her. "Daddy! Daddy? Are you okay? Mom, call 911 right now! Tell them Dad's having a heart attack. Hurry!!!"

An hour later, Tom Keller was in ICU with tubes everywhere and monitors all around him. "Mrs. Keller, your husband's had a myocardial infarction or heart attack. While it doesn't appear to be life threatening, we need to keep him here for 48 hours to be sure. I can promise you he'll get the best care available. If you have any questions don't hesitate to ask."

"Doctor?" Tina Keller said. "We don't have insurance."

The doctor put his hand on her shoulder and said, "That doesn't matter. We'll provide care for your husband until it's safe to send him home. Your ability to pay has no bearing on the care he'll receive. So please don't worry about that, okay?"

She and Meghan knew that meant he'd receive care but that the family would also be receiving a bill. And cardiac care was extremely expensive. The next day a hospital administrator broke the bad news to them.

"So far, we're looking at just over $52,000. I won't know until he's discharged, but I'm guessing the total will be somewhere around $75,000. Unfortunately, there will be post-discharge expenses for follow-up care. Some will be with your family practice's refereed specialists and some from the hospital in addition to these charges."

Tina had already told the woman they had no means to pay and while she was sympathetic, her job was to inform them how much they owed. Mrs. Keller knew hospitals weren't running a charity and without health insurance, paying the bills was now her problem, not the hospital's. 

By the time Meghan had returned to campus, her parent's were just over $100,000 in debt for medical bills with a mortgage due, college expenses looming, plus all of the routine expenses every family faced.

In spite of her protests, her father insisted she return to school and she feared challenging him could make things worse so she'd agreed to go back to school leaving her mother to fend for her dad and herself.

To make matters worse, Meghan had received a long text from Candice who said she wouldn't be returning in January. She'd failed three classes and had no interest or motivation to retake them. She was staying in her hometown and had taken a job in a local department store. 

Meghan wasn't exactly sure how to take her new roommate, Nikki Westin. Like Meghan, Nikki was a very attractive girl. Unlike Meghan, Nikki always had the newest and nicest....everything. New clothes, new shoes, expensive jewelry, and what seemed like an endless supply of spending money. She was friendly enough but never offered any hint about where the money came from. Meghan just assumed her family was well enough off to give her the finer things of life. You know, like the new BMW she drove while Meghan walked or rode the bus—when she could afford it.

That evening, Nikki was getting ready to go out—again—when Meghan's cell phone rang. "Hey, Mom. How's Dad?" 

Nikki had just stepped into another designer dress and was buckling the ankle straps on some very expensive shoes as Meghan said, "How much do they want?" There was a pause, "Can we get an extension? Not even another week? Oh, okay. I understand. Is there anything I can do to...." Meghan stopped in mid-sentence. "I see. Well, I'm going to see if I can get another photo shoot. That would really help out. Sure. Okay, Mom. Love you, too. Bye."

Nikki was clipping on her real diamond earrings when she said, "Money problems?"

Meghan heard her but she wasn't listening. Her mind was on her parents when out of the blue she thought of something that almost made her smile. She'd bumped into Steve at the hospital. For a moment she forget her own sadness when she saw him. He was in a bed with a cast around his upper arm and a large bandage around his forehead. Initially, she wasn't sure it was him but she was almost certain. She stepped inside the room and said very quietly, "Steve? Is that you?" 

His eyes were glassy from the pain medication but after turning toward her and looking for a few seconds she heard the familiar voice say, "Meghan? What are you doing here? How did you hear about the accident? Did my mom call you or something?"

She stood beside him and said, "No. I had no idea." She explained the situation with her dad and how she just happened to be walking by. Steve told her how sorry he was for her and that he hoped her dad would recover fully and quickly. She learned he'd been in a serious car accident on the way home from his school on the opposite side of the state. He was just ten miles from home when a drunk driver crossed the center line and hit him head on. He'd broken his collar bone and suffered a serious concussion. The doctors had kept him overnight for observation. 

The two former lovers agreed to get together before New Year's Eve, but one thing or another kept them from ever getting the chance. He hadn't called her so she assumed he really wasn't all that interested. She'd thought about calling him a hundred times, but every time she picked up her phone to dial his number she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"What did you say, Nikki?" Meghan asked absent-mindedly.

Nikki asked Meghan to help her with her diamond necklace then sat down and said, "I was asking if you had financial problems."

Meghan smiled wryly. "Uh, that would be putting it mildly." She gave Nikki the short version of how bad things were at home.

Nikki looked kind of uncomfortable but said, "Hey, listen. If you need money...a lot of money...I know a way to help."

Meghan hadn't given much thought to Nikki's lifestyle, but it suddenly occurred to her she must be involved in either drugs or prostitution. She knew Nikki was a pretty good student so she tentatively ruled out selling cocaine or meth and wondered where she went all dressed up and what she did two or three nights a week. Even so, she couldn't see this pretty young girl having a pimp who slapped her around and took his cut of the money she earned. That just didn't fit.

"So...are you interested?" Nikki asked.

"Well, I guess that depends," Meghan replied.

"On?" Nikki asked.

"On what it is I'd have to do. I just assumed your parents were very well off, but you know, it's none of my business."

Nikki laughed. "Meghan. Even if my parents had tons of money—which they don't—I wouldn't be dressing like this." Nikki used her hands to show she meant the dress and jewelry. "I'd just wear the nicest stuff girls our age like wearing."


Who's Your (Sugar) Daddy?



Meghan looked Nikki over from head to toe before saying, "Should I ask who you wear this kind of stuff for?"

"If you want to make the kind of money I make, then yes, you should ask," Nikki told her.

"Okay. I'll bite. Who do you dress up for and what kind of money are you talking about?"

Nikki went to her closet and punched in a code on a small personal safe she kept inside it. She pulled a thick stack of cash that was mostly $100 and $50 bills. It was at least half an inch thick.

"Holy crap, Nikki!" Meghan said. "That's more money than I've ever seen at one time."

"I only have this much here because I haven't taken the time to get to the bank after my last two weeks worth of um...appointments."

"Appointments?" Meghan asked.

"Uh-huh," Nikki replied.

"With whom do you have these um...appointments and how often do you have them?"

"That depends," Nikki told her. "You can have them as often or as infrequently as you like."

Meghan sat up straight and said, "Okay. Let's stop playing 'Clue' and just tell me. What is it we're talking about here?"

Nikki looked at her very expensive watch and said, "Listen. I've gotta go. When I get back, we'll talk. The bottom line is there are some very generous men who well, let's just say...really enjoy...the company of younger, beautiful women." Nikki grabbed her cell phone and before Meghan could react, snapped a picture of her. "I won't tell them your name. I'll just ask if you're someone they might be interested in meeting. I can guarantee you they will be and if you're willing to um...spend time with them...you can make that kind of money and more every week."

Nikki dropped her cell into her gorgeous little clutch and opened the door. "Hey, wait! I need to ask you something else!" Meghan said.

"Sorry. I'm gonna be late and that's a serious no-no. We'll talk tomorrow, okay? Now get back to your studying."

The door closed and Meghan sat there staring at it for several minutes before she realized she needed to get back to her chemistry book but also knew there was no way she could concentrate. Not after hearing that. Nikki must have had close to $20,000 in the room. And that was only two weeks of work or whatever it was she did.

Her mom and dad were behind on the house, the car, and the hospital was getting ready to turn them over to a collection agency. Meghan was a traditional girl, but she also knew desperate times called for desperate measures. But first, she had to know what the measures were because there was desperate and then there was reckless and dangerous. Beyond that was uncharted territory.

______________________________________________________________________

Grant Ziegler took a look around the room and thought, "So now what?" This had been his home away from home for the last 40 years. He'd built the business from the ground up as a little start-up in his garage. He smiled when he thought about how afraid he'd been when he'd signed for a small business loan of $25,000. It was more money than he'd even seen in his life, and the thought of paying it back kept him up at nights.

While he was in college, he'd developed a passion for computer software, something that was in its infancy. Recognizing the potential for information security, he spent his time developing and eventually figured out how to provide data protection on computers. All he needed to do was convince computer manufacturers to produce them with his product installed. He called his product FireSoft and once he got the chance to demonstrate how well it worked, the product sold itself. And in a very big way. He'd become a millionaire by the time he was 25 with a staff of just ten people. By the age of 35, he had over 2,000 people working for him, and his net worth had just crossed the one billion dollar mark. 

At the age of 50, he retired and handed the day-to-day operations to his 23-year son and recent college graduate, Mark. Grant and his wife of 25 years, his high school sweetheart, Gayle, sailed, traveled, and lived life to the fullest. Almost no matter where they were in the world, one way or the other, Grant found a way to swim and play tennis, his other two passions in life. Even during Gayle's illness, Ziegler rarely missed his morning swim or his three sets of tennis in the afternoon. 

She'd found the large lump in her breast four years ago. It had spread quickly and in spite of a radical, double-mastectomy and the best care in the world, she lost her battle in less than a year. That's when Grant had gone back to work full-time to force himself to stay busy and to think about something else—anything else—but losing Gayle. Mark wasn't happy about taking the number two slot, but the truth was the company had lost a lot of money with the younger Ziegler at the helm. Grant quickly turned things around and spent a lot of time teaching and mentoring his son.

Now, three years later, at the age of 62, he'd had enough of the grind. He was selling FireSoft for $3.2 billion to his son, Mark.

"I saw your new digs, Grant. Think that's gonna big enough for you?"

Ziegler politely smiled and said, "Yeah, it should be. But I've got Shay to think about, too, you know."

"Oh, right! Does she get her own separate bedroom?"

"No. She gets her own wing." Shay was their yellow Lab and other than Mark, the only thing that really mattered to him any more. He loved his son and now that he was fully prepared to take the helm, he wanted him to run the company again—and to own it. He'd worked out the financing with his attorneys and Grant had agreed to sell it to his boy for $500 million less than it was worth, something he would never have done had he not sold it to family.

Money no longer mattered to him, but Shay did. She was his real best friend. She'd been there the entire time when Gayle was sick and she was at his feet during the funeral and then at the cemetery on that cold, gray morning when they laid his wife to rest. Gayle was the best friend he'd ever had, but Shay was a close second. Okay, maybe Mark was second, but that one was a toss up.

He'd bought an enormous mansion near the sleepy university campus where he'd been a computer science major until dropping out his senior year to work full-time on his firewall software. He'd been warned of the dire consequences of leaving with the degree in hand and yet he now had an honorary BS, MS, and PhD from that very university. "Not bad for a college dropout," he thought to himself.

Ziegler wasn't antisocial, he'd just lost the need to be around people after Gayle had died. He could still be charming when necessary, and he could be just as ruthless as ever when business was involved. But as far as relationships went, he just didn't care. He'd thought about dating again recently, but when he looked at available women his age, he decided being rich and single wasn't such a bad thing. Besides, he had Shay and the rest of the world to see and explore. And he made sure he had an Olympic-sized pool and a tennis court in his new home. He also had a third room that was the size of a football field where he could play fetch on days when going outside wasn't an option. He'd had the entire area carpeted so Shay could run and stop without sliding around on a slick hardwood floor. After all, Ziegler would do anything for his one remaining girl.

"It's absolutely gorgeous, Grant! If you'd like some company, you know you can call me anytime, right?" Marge Johnson was one of Gayle's best friends and she'd recently been divorced for the third time. She made no secret of her interest in her late friend's husband, but Grant always just told her he'd call knowing full well she'd be the last person he'd ever call let alone go on a date with. 

"Thanks, Marge. I'll call you, okay?"

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Grant!" she teased. She stopped, leaned closer then said, "Or maybe I'll just hold you!"

Grant smiled politely and assured her again he'd call as he closed the door. She was the last to leave after the retirement/house-warming party. Only Charlie Davis remained. Charlie was the closest thing he had to a best friend. He'd been his personal assistant for nearly 20 years, and Ziegler trusted Charlie with everything. He had access to a fair amount of his money, he had unfettered access to his home, his cars, his private jet, and pretty much everything Ziegler owned. If Charlie wanted to take the yacht out for the weekend with one of his never-ending new girlfriends, he didn't even need to ask. He just had to tell Ziegler where he'd be and how to reach him. Of course, he still had to be available 24/7, but he need not be physically present. That arrangement had worked for as long as cell phones and email had been around, and it was still in effect.

Davis may have been the most highly compensated personal assistant of all time. Ziegler paid him just over a million a year in salary plus 2-3 times that in bonuses at the end of each year because he was worth every penny. Add to that the access he had to all of Grant's toys, and Charlie Davis lacked for nothing. Most of all, Charlie had Grant's trust and that's what allowed him to be completely frank with him on any issue.

Unlike Grant, who was a younger, better-looking version of Robert Redford, Charlie Davis wasn't the kind of guy anyone would call handsome. He wasn't unattractive for a guy who was 55, but he certainly wasn't more than average looking. In his case, money really did seem to buy love. Okay, maybe just companionship but Davis seemed very happy having some new, young, pretty girl on his arm every week and they seemed very happy to be with him.

Charlie was the one person who wasn't family he trusted unconditionally. So when his beloved Shay suddenly went lame as Labs often did and there was no surgical option, Ziegler called on his best friend to arrange having the vet come to the house and put her down. Ziegler held her as she died. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the tears from flowing just as they had when he'd laid his wife to rest. Some might say it was only a dog, but they couldn't possibly understand the bond they'd shared. 

Some six months later, Davis had watched his boss and best friend spiral downward until he became concerned enough to say something.

"Grant? How 'bout we have a drink?"

"No thanks, Charlie. You go ahead. I'm not much in the mood."

Charlie paid no attention and poured two glasses. He handed one to Ziegler and said, "I want to discuss something with you so can you humor me at least?"

Out of respect for his friend, Ziegler took the glass and said, "What's the occasion, Charlie? You finally gonna marry one of those beautiful young co-eds?"

Davis laughed and said, "Hardly. But you're pretty close. 

"So what shall we drink to?" Ziegler said.

"Well, that ties into what I want to talk about. How about to 'new opportunities'?"

Ziegler looked puzzled but raised his glass and agreed to the toast. "So what new opportunities, Charlie? And it better not have anything to do with business or making money."

Davis smiled and said, "No business. I promise. But I really do have something...or someone...I'd like you to consider."

"Charlie. If you want to hire someone, you know you don't have to ask. You have cart blanche when it comes to the staff. Just do it."

"It's not about hiring anyone, Grant. It's about you, my friend." He paused, looked directly at his boss and said, "I'm worried about you, Grant. It's just not good for a man to be alone all the time. Women do okay without a man. They tend to have tons of friends. They're social creatures. They're supportive by nature. Men are competitive. We just don't do that kind of stuff well. Look, I'm your best friend so I'll hope you'll at least hear me out."

"I'm listening, Charlie, but I don't like where this is going," Ziegler warned him. Even Charlie had limits when it came to Ziegler's limits and dating was one of them.

"I want to show you a picture of someone, and I want you to keep an open mind, okay?"

Grant didn't answer him. He just stared then raised on eyebrow. "I told you I don't want another dog. I can't ever go through that again."

"No dogs, Grant. Trust me on that because I mean it both figuratively and literally. Here. Take a look." 

Davis handed him his phone and Ziegler turned it from landscape to portrait then back to landscape. "She's very pretty. But she's not even Mark's age," he said flatly as he handed the phone back to its owner.

Davis spent the next few minutes explaining the constant stream of pretty, new faces on his arm. Charlie told him who these girls were. All of them were stunningly beautiful, highly intelligent, very thoughtful, and all were incredibly charming. Davis knew he wasn't making progress so he spent the next five minutes making his case as persuasively as he could. He pushed every button Ziegler had even though there were very few of them to push.

When he finished, Ziegler sighed and said, "Okay. You've made your point. I'll think about it. But only because you're asking, Charlie. I'd have thrown anyone else out of here after the first sentence. I'm not making any promises, but I will give it some thought."

"That's all I'm asking. Look, I know how you're feeling. First Gayle and then Shay. Women our age are nice company but, well...let's just say I understand your feelings about dating them. I had my own reservations about dating girls this young but Grant, after doing it for over a year, I can tell you I'll never date anyone over 30 again."

______________________________________________________________________

 Meghan had fallen asleep at her desk. She heard the door open and it took her a second to realize where she was and who or what caused the sound. Even though no one else saw it, Meghan was a little embarrassed at the small puddle of drool on the table. She carefully pulled a tissue from the box on the desk and carefully wiped it up without drawing attention.

"You're still up?" Nikki said as she closed the door behind her.

Meghan's mouth was dry and felt...nasty. "Uh, yeah. Kind of, I guess," she mumbled. Then she remembered their conversation from earlier that evening.

"How was your...appointment?"

Nikki pulled off the four-inch heels and stretched her calves. "God, that feels good!" she said as though it were ecstasy. "It was...pretty routine."

"Pretty routine? What does that even mean?"

"Come over here and I'll explain it," Nikki told her. She patted the spot next to her on the bed indicating where Meghan should sit.

"Okay, I'm sitting. Now spill it."

Nikki turned slightly to her left to better face Meghan. "As I said, there are some very generous men who very much appreciate the company of attractive women our age."

"Uh, yeah, you already told me that. What's the catch? There's always a catch, you know."

"Of course," Nikki agreed. "The catch is that in exchange for an evening of your time, you can come home with this." Nikki reached into her purse and laid out fifty, hundred-dollar bills. 

Meghan picked a bunch of them up and spread them out like a fan. She felt the crisp paper in her hand and watched it as it turned into a mortgage payment and then into a second car for her parents. She sat it all back down on the bed then said, "That's not the catch, Nikki. That's the compensation. What do you have to do in order to come home with that much money?"

"Well, that depends on how much you want to come home with," she said. "Let's say your personal comfort zone is going out to dinner in public. You might come home with maybe $1,000. If you're willing to have dinner and slow dance a few times, you could possibly double that."

Meghan turned to face her and said, "And if a girl wants to come home with this much?"

Nikki sighed and said, "That depends." She saw a look of frustration on Meghan's face then said, "Look. If you want to play it safe, you can make close to this much by agreeing to be some gentleman's...um...missionary." She paused for effect then said, "Am I being clear enough yet?"

Meghan raised an eyebrow as she asked, "So is that what you mean by a 'routine' appointment?" 

"Yes and no," Nikki said. 

"Can you possibly answer a question without a question just once, Nick? Please?"

"There isn't a pay scale or anything, okay? It's what you and the guy agree to. I've had guys offer three grand for doing what I got five grand for tonight. Once I made six. So it just depends on what you're willing to do and how generous the guy is."

"So...how old are these generous men you're talking about?"

"How old is your father?" Nikki asked.

"Jesus! Are you serious? That's disgusting! My dad is almost 53."

"Sorry, kiddo, but 53 is on the younger side of these gentlemen. There are a few guys in their forties but most are well—older than your father. Many are a LOT older."

Meghan wretched slightly as she said, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Nikki touched her forearm and said, "It's not that bad, Meg. Really. I mean, you get used to it. You can...you know, close your eyes and pretend it's the best looking guy you know. But that's only one part of the um...appointment...and that part is optional. Most of these guys are really nice. They just want a pretty young girl to talk to and show off in public. All you have to do is be nice back."

"You and I have very different ideas about what the term 'being nice means', Nikki." Meghan sat there for a moment then asked, "You said most of them are really nice. What are the rest of them like?"

"I've only had one appointment outside my comfort zone. I took a chance on a guy who seemed really sweet. He had a bondage fetish and he offered me $10,000 for two hours."

"And?" Meghan demanded.

"And...let's just say I'll never make that mistake again. I thought it meant maybe a blindfold and some light spanking or maybe even handcuffs."

Meghan had tried all of those things with Steve and she'd even enjoyed it. But the thought of doing that with a total stranger who was older than her father made her nauseous and scared the living hell out of her.

"It ended up with a lot of bruises and bleeding and then being...." Her voice trailed off before she said the final word but Meghan didn't need to hear it to know what happened.

"So what did you do? Did you tell anyone?"

"There's no one to tell, Meghan. I mean, I guess you could tell the cops, but it would be your word against his...and his army of lawyers. Oh, and you'd have to admit you're being paid to do it so...."

"How do you avoid getting into that kind of situation? I mean, how do you know what you're getting before you get there?"

"I've never had anyone lie to me. Even that guy told me what he planned to do. In his mind, I'm sure he thought what he did to me was completely consensual. They tell you upfront what they want and then if you agree, you negotiate the fee. You do what they paid for and go home. But if you're asking for an ironclad security guarantee, there isn't one." Nikki pointed at the money again. "But if you want...or in your case...need...this kind of money, well...."

Nikki saw the concern in Meghan's eyes. "Meg? I showed a guy your picture tonight. After the appointment, he texted me and said he has someone who's interested in meeting you. Just dinner. Inside, at his place. No hanky-panky, no nothing. Just talking and eating the best food and drinking the finest wine on earth. Oh, and he'll pay you $10,000."

Meghan's eyes opened wide in shock. Nikki grabbed her arm and said, "I had to get hurt to make that kind of money, hon. This guy is either mega wealthy or he really, really likes what he sees." She waited then added, "Or maybe both."

Nikki stood up and said, "I gotta take a shower, okay? Look. There's no pressure. You don't have to do this. But it's ten grand for dinner and small talk. If you want to give it a try, text the word "Meghan" to this number. The guy's name is Charlie. That's all I know."




Who's Your (Sugar) Daddy?



Nikki texted the number to Meghan's cell phone which buzzed a second later. "I'm exhausted," Nikki said. "But I'm $5,000 richer and I won't be able to make this kind of money when I'm 40....or 30 for that matter. Life's about choices, Meghan. Just think it through and make the best decision for you...and your family. Good night, hon."

Meghan was a science major and she was very good at math. She made $8.00 an hour working part time in the cafeteria. Compared to what she earned every two weeks, ten grand was an unbelievable amount of money. But when it came to owing a hundred grand in medical bills plus paying for a home and a car and buying a second vehicle, and paying for college, ten thousand dollars was peanuts. But she also knew that peanuts like that added up quickly as long as you put them in a container rather than eat them.

The next day Meghan went back and forth over and over trying to decide whether or not to send the text. Just after three, her phone rang. It was her mom explaining that her dad was going to need surgery on two of his arteries. "I know it sounds serious, sweetheart," she told Meghan, "but as far as cardio procedures go, this is very routine. It's absolutely necessary, but it isn't high risk. I didn't call to worry you, honey. I called to reassure you."

Meghan thanked her mom for calling then punched in the number Nikki'd given her and typed in her name. She closed her eyes for a moment then hit 'send.'

Less than a minute later she received a reply which read: "Friday evening. 7pm. Dress for dinner. Limo will pick you up in front of your dorm. Don't be late."

It was Wednesday afternoon. Meghan didn't have any more classes that day and only two on Thursday. She went to work in the cafeteria and since it was the 15th, she picked up her paycheck on the way out. She opened the envelope and saw the total: $135.19. For the first time, Meghan didn't feel worried about her decision. Concerned, yes. But not worried.

When she got back to her room, she carefully removed the garment bag from the photo shoot and looked at each outfit. She decided on the midnight-blue dress with the square neckline. She smiled when she thought about wearing the faux diamond necklace and earrings, but they were her only viable option. She laughed out loud when she wondered if wearing cheap, phony jewelry might affect the price of her first appointment. 

Meghan cashed her check and spent $25 on a mani-pedi but did her own makeup. She borrowed an expensive wrap from Nikki and a pair of black, four-inch heels and at 6:45, stepped outside to wait. At exactly 7pm, a black limousine pulled up and a man about her dad's age stepped outside and introduced himself. "Good evening, Meghan. I'm Charlie." He motioned for her to get inside and slid in next to her once she did.

Meghan looked around nervously trying to take everything in. She didn't see anything threatening or out of the ordinary but then, why would she? This wasn't a kidnapping or anything, right?

"I can see your nervous. That's understandable. Would you like a drink?"

"Oh, no thank you," Meghan said. She'd forgotten to smile so when she did it was very unnatural.

"Relax. I'm not your date, Meghan."

"Oh. I was told I'd be meeting Charlie and you introduced yourself by that name so...."

Charlie Davis smiled. "I am Charlie and you did meet me but I'm not the man you'll be spending the evening with. His name is Grant and he's a very good friend of mine. You'll be having dinner in his home and he wants you to understand that dinner means dinner. There are no other expectations, okay?"

Meghan started to speak but Charlie held up his hand. "Let me finish, please. Then you can ask me anything you like." Davis explained that Grant was a widower and how his late wife had died. He told her he was his best friend and that was the only reason he'd even agreed to meet someone. "He's a very good, very decent man, Meghan. But losing Gayle—and then his dog, Shay—nearly destroyed him. I'm asking as a personal favor that you be friendly, upbeat, positive, and very attentive. Don't be phony. I'm not asking you to do that. In fact, he'd see right through you if you did. Be yourself but take a genuine interest in him and I believe you'll see what a really good guy he is." He hesitated then said, "One more thing. How much does the age difference bother you?"

Meghan was sitting beside him so it wasn't easy to look at him directly. She turned slightly and said, "I've never been out with anyone over 25 so while you might not want to hear this, I'd say I feel um...uncomfortable?"

"I appreciate your honesty. So will he. Never lie to him. Tell him exactly what you're feeling no matter what the topic. I've known him most of my adult life, and not even I can BS him. You'd have no chance. Shoot straight with him and do your best to be friendly. That's all I can ask. If he likes you—and if you're comfortable with it—he may invite you back. As you can see, he's a very generous man." Davis handed her an envelope stuffed with cash. "When I see you later, after dinner, this will be yours."

Just then the limo left the main road and headed along a winding private drive that went on for the better part of a mile. As they rounded the last curve, Meghan saw their destination. She was mesmerized by what she saw. It was like something out a movie. It was more the size of a palace than a home yet it had a very modern look to it. She could see the top two floors over the very tall wall which surrounded it. The huge, wrought-iron gate opened as the limo approached. The driver stopped directly in front of the mansion and came around to open the door. 

"Go ahead," she said to Davis indicating he could get out first.

"Sorry, Meghan. You're on your own from here. Someone will let you in and show you where you need to go. Remember. Smile, be friendly, and be yourself. Good luck."

Meghan stepped out of the limo and the driver escorted her to the front steps where she looked up at the most massive door she'd ever seen. It slowly swung open to reveal an older gentleman who bowed slightly then, using his hand and arm, indicated she should go with him in that direction.

He led her through a series of rooms which reminded Meghan of a maze. She wasn't sure she could find her way back outside without help. As she entered a very large, very handsomely-decorated room, she saw a distinguished-looking man sitting in a large leather chair.

"Mr. Ziegler? Miss Meghan Keller."

Grant stood up and turned around. As he did, Meghan was unaware of her reaction. "Oh, my God. You're that Grant. FireSoft Grant...Ziegler."

Ziegler thanked the butler and dismissed him. He walked over toward Meghan and said, "Guilty as charged. I hope you're not too disappointed." 

His smile was still amazing. She'd seen him on television and in numerous magazines. His face was all over the media especially when his wife had passed away and now again as he was selling his Fortune 500 company.

Meghan was still staring and her jaw was slightly agape as he told her, "I know I'm not exactly the kind of guy you normally spend time with, but am I really that hard to look at?" He had a very friendly, very pleasant smile.

"Um...no. I mean, no, sir. It's just that I didn't realize you were...."

Ziegler extended his hand and said, "Come on. Let's get better acquainted and would you do me one big favor, please?"

Meghan took his hand and said, "Yes, of course."

"Please don't call me 'sir' again. Can you do that for me?"

Meghan managed to smile for the first time and she felt a little bit of the tension fade away. "Oh, sure. I'm so sorry. It's just that you're so famous and rich and...."

Ziegler laughed quietly and said, "Again, guilty as charged. But please don't judge me too harshly. Those things really aren't my fault." He was pleased when he saw Meghan smile and politely laugh at his comment.

They sat across from one another on some of the most beautiful furniture Meghan had ever seen. She tried not to stare, but just as with seeing the mansion for the first time, she couldn't help herself. "This is so amazing. I've never seen anything like it before."

"May I show you around? We have about half an hour before dinner."

"I'd love that. Thank you very much, Mr. Ziegler."

Ziegler stood up and again offered her his hand. "I don't like 'Mr. Ziegler' much better than 'sir.' Will you please call me Grant?"

The half-hour tour took closer to an hour. He walked Meghan through most of the 25,000 square-foot building, but she knew she'd seen less than a quarter of it. 

"So what do you think?" he asked as he seated her at the table.

"I can't get over the play area for your dog. I think that was my favorite room in the house. And I'm really sorry about her." She finally summoned up the courage to look directly at him and realized he was indeed very...distinguished. She couldn't bring herself to call a man his age 'handsome', but she knew from old photographs that he had been a very good-looking man in his youth. She also couldn't deny he was very....what was the word she was looking for? Appealing? As the word was coming to her she told him, "I also love to swim and play tennis so obviously I really enjoyed both your pool and tennis court."

"But?" he asked. He could see something wasn't right.

"Well, it's just that I've never been anywhere that had both of those things inside the home. I have friends whose parents have swimming pools, but they're outside the house and well, no one has their own tennis court." Now it was Meghan's turn to realize something was wrong. Instinctively, she picked up on it. "Oh, Grant. I'm so sorry. When I said my friends' parents, I didn't mean that you're...."

Ziegler smiled again and said, "It's okay, Meghan. Listen. The age difference is very real. Let's just acknowledge it upfront rather than pretend it doesn't exist. I'm 62 years old and it isn't something I can change. For that matter, I wouldn't if I could. While we're on this subject, I have to tell you that's it's just as um...strange for me. You're younger than my son, Mark, and although you're very beautiful, it seems as well...odd...for me to be here with you as I'm sure it does for you to be here with me. The difference in our ages is 40 years and it is an issue. If you and I are going to be friends, that's just a fact we can't escape. Does that make you feel any better or did I just compound the feelings you're experiencing?"

"No, not at all. In fact, I'm really grateful you addressed that early on. I've never done this before. I mean, I've never seen anyone for, you know...."

"Money?" he said filling in the blank. "If it helps, I've never paid for anyone's company before. I want to assure that just because I've paid for your time you are under no obligation to do anything but spend time with me. It's very important to me that you understand that."

"Charlie made that very clear, but I really appreciate you telling me that yourself. I only agreed to do this because my family has some very serious financial issues and I had no idea what to expect. That makes me feel much better so thank you for saying that, Grant."

They spent the next hour enjoying a true seven-course meal. Meghan ate a small amount of everything she was served and without exception, every single item was superb. During dinner, they discussed her past to include her recent breakup, her college major, her future plans, and the reason for her parents' financial woes. He in turn, shared snippets of his life involving his business, his marriage to and life with Gayle, and his love of swimming and tennis.

Meghan told him honestly. "I haven't much opportunity to do either lately, but I love both of those things."

"How would you like to join me tomorrow for an early morning swim?" he asked with genuine enthusiasm.

"I'd love to," she told him. "I mean, I wasn't trying to invite myself back or anything, I just wanted to...."

"Not at all," he assured her. "I had no idea I'd enjoy your company so much, Meghan. I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't. There's no pressure from this end so if you already had other plans or if you haven't had as good a time as I have...."

"What time shall I be here?" she asked with genuine enthusiasm.

"Old people get up very early, you know," he said flashing that smile again. "Is 6am too early?"

"Not at all," she replied. "We started swim practice at 5:30 in high school so this will be just like old times."

Ziegler didn't mention that "old times" was rather funny coming from someone her age. Instead, he told her looked forward to it and asked if she'd like an after-dinner drink. Grant's steward brought them both snifters of very expensive brandy. The subtly of the drink was lost on Meghan's virgin pallet, but she could tell it was very smooth as far as hard liquors went. She just rarely ever drank anything other than a beer or some inexpensive wine but this was clearly a very expensive brandy.

After another half hour of small talk, Grant told her, "Unfortunately, at least from my perspective, I believe our time is up. May I show you out?"

As he helped her with her wrap Meghan told him, "I had a really nice time, Grant. I honestly didn't know what to expect, but you really are a true gentleman just like Charlie said. It couldn't have been more enjoyable. Thank you, very much."

She walked hand in hand with him back to the huge entry doors at the front of his home. "I'll have Peter, my driver, pick you up at 5:45 tomorrow morning, if that's okay."

"It's very okay," she said. Then she stopped talking and said, "I just remembered, I don't have a decent bathing suit in my dorm room."

Ziegler laughed and said, "Don't worry. I'll have several here before you arrive. But I will have to ask your size even though this is our first da...our first...meeting."

Meghan smiled and thought of the word 'appointment.' "I wear a size 4 dress and well...in terms of a swimsuit I'm either a very full B or a small C."

"Got it. And Meghan? Thank you for an incredibly pleasant evening. I was perhaps as apprehensive as you were, but my fears were completely unfounded. You are simply delightful. I look forward to seeing tomorrow." He stood there for a moment then said, "I'm so very sorry. I forgot to ask. Would the same amount be acceptable for our next...appointment?"

There it was—appointment. "It's more than acceptable. It actually seems like way too much. After all, I love to swim so maybe...."

"Same amount it is then," he said ignoring her protests. 

"Well, goodnight then, Grant," she said. She had no idea what, if anything, was expected so she did what she'd do after any...date...she'd enjoyed. She put her arms around his shoulders and hugged him as she thanked him one more time for a very nice evening.

Ziegler was surprised by the hug and even more so by his reaction to it. He hadn't felt that in a very long time. "It was my pleasure, Meghan. Good night."

Charlie was waiting for her in the back of the limo. They chatted about the evening on the ride back to her dorm. As the driver opened the door for her he said, "Meghan. There's just one rule here. You don't tell anyone who you spent the evening with."

"Oh, okay. I wouldn't have anyway, but I promise you I won't tell anyone."

"Good night then, Meghan. I'll be seeing you bright and early tomorrow morning again."

"Oh. Before I forget." He handed her the envelope which she carefully slid inside her purse. Meghan simply couldn't process how a few hours of her time was worth that much money. But she did know the saying about not looking gift horses in the mouth. Especially very generous ones.

This time, it was Nikki who was in bed when the door opened just 11pm. "Sorry, Nick."

"No, it's okay. I'm still awake." She sat up and asked, "So...how'd it go?"

"Um...routine?" Meghan said as she took off the heels.

"Just dinner?"

"Yep. Dinner, small talk. Even got a tour of the palace."

"Palace? Is that hyperbole?"

"No, it's a pretty accurate description of this guy's home."

"Wow. I know better than to ask for a name, but that's pretty impressive and I've seen quite a few beautiful places." Nikki waited for Meghan to get out of her dress before asking, "So did you feel uncomfortable or grossed out or anything?"

Meghan pulled on her favorite cotton gown and said, "You know, it was actually very pleasant. Turns out, he's a really nice man."

Nikki sat there without speaking for a few seconds. "Yeah. That's how it always starts out. But then they want more."

"Uh, weren't you the one who said you could just close your eyes and make believe?"

"Yes. I did say that. It's just that well, you know, there's just something very...icky...about some guy who's skin is all saggy and wrinkled. And if he's fat and bald it's just...." Nikki shuddered then said, "Rather than 'you get what you paid for' this business is 'you get paid for what you give' so I guess I stand by my earlier statement. It really isn't that bad. Other than the money, the best thing is knowing it's only for a few hours and then you get to leave." She sat there in bed then shook her head and shivered. "Ugh! Can you imagine actually living with some geriatric case?" She shuddered again.

Meghan slid into bed and pulled up the covers. "Yeah. That would really be awful." She closed her eyes and wondered what it would be like if—no, when—he wanted something more. Could she actually do that? With him?

"No bikini?" Meghan teased as she looked at the dozen or so single-piece bathing suits. 

"No. No bikini. That just seemed impractical to swim in and above all else, I want you to feel comfortable here, Meghan," Grant told her.

She chose the white one and Ziegler said, "What a pleasant surprise. That one's my favorite!"

Meghan quickly changed in the small room just off the pool then ran to its edge and dove in. "Oh, my goodness! This feels SO good!" she hollered.

Ziegler was at the wall near one end when he said, "Race you to the other side?"

Meghan paddled over to him and said, "You're on!"

She hadn't been in the pool much the last couple of years, but she was still a very powerful swimmer. She felt good as she cut deep, heavy strokes into the water and kicked hard propelling herself forward. As she touched the wall and flipped over she noticed Ziegler was already holding the edge of the pool. "No way!" she said. "You beat me?"

"Not a bad first effort, Meghan. You're a very good swimmer. I was less than a length ahead of you. Ready to try again?"

This time, he beat her by a full length and she'd given it everything she had. Out of breath at the other end she huffed and puffed saying, "Okay. That's just not right!"

"Why? Because the old guy can swim?"

Meghan pretended to be angry and splashed him with a bunch of water. He splashed right back and the splashing escalated into a virtual battle. Ziegler hit the water hard with both arms sending up a ton of blue water, then dove under and got behind her. When he surfaced he said, "Looking for someone?"

Meghan really had lost track of him and he literally scared the hell out of her. She shrieked, turned around, and found herself face to face with him. "That was mean!" she said with feigned indignation. They both treaded water just inches from one another. Meghan was staring into his still bright, very blue eyes. For a moment, she felt something that didn't make any sense to her. It was a pleasant feeling but one she quickly dismissed.

"Are you any better at tennis?" he asked pedantically. "I mean, I sure hope so. It would be pretty embarrassing to get your ass kicked in two sports in one day by a guy my age."

Meghan huffed and started splashing him again with water.

After drying off, Meghan noticed a pair of white shorts, a white top, a white visor, and a pair of white tennis shoes with white socks on table. She also saw a blow dryer which she used to dry her hair then put on the tennis outfit. When she exited the room, Ziegler was dressed and waiting for her.




Who's Your (Sugar) Daddy?



"Okay. You may have gotten the best of me in the pool, but I can assure you things will be very different on the court."

For the next two hours, Meghan played her heart out. She won the first set 5-3 but lost the second 6-2. They played until it was 5-5 when she said, "Grant? I'm exhausted. Can we call this one a tie and take a break?"

Ziegler laughed. "I didn't think you were the kind who gave up, Meghan. But if you want to surrender, then sure, we can call it quits."

Meghan put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. "Quit? Surrender? I'll show you quit. Bring it!"

Ziegler aced the serve then went on to beat her two games in a row.

"Maybe you should have quit while you were behind," he teased.

"Ugh! Did you know I hate you?" she said teasing back. "How do you do this?"

"Do what? Stay in shape or manage to beat someone who's twice as young as me?" he continued teasing.

"You know, if you weren't such a nice guy I'd...."

Ziegler was standing directly in front of her and cut her off. "You'd...what?"

Meghan found herself looking into his eyes again and that feeling came back. It didn't make sense because she was 22 and he...wasn't. "I'd..."

"May I kiss you, Meghan?" he asked as he put his hands on her shoulders.

Without thinking, Meghan said, "Yes." She closed her eyes as his lips pressed against hers. It had been a very long time since she'd been kissed and even longer since she'd been.... 

The kiss lasted less than two seconds but it was very...nice. Pleasant even. When Meghan opened her eyes, his were looking into hers again. "Was that so bad?" he asked as he brushed her back.

"No. It wasn't bad at all," she said honestly. "I...um...do you think...."

"What I think is, it's probably time for you to go. Again, I had an incredibly good time...kicking your ass, Meghan," he said. He smiled and instinctively pulled back when he saw her reaction.

"Oh, you are are in SO much trouble, mister!" she threatened.

"Really? I like being in trouble. Or at least I think I like the sound of that," he told her. The smile faded from his weathered face when he said, "Meghan. I'd like to ask you something."

Her smile also faded and she became serious. "Okay. Sure. Ask away."

"Let's sit down, shall we." They sat on a bench on the side of the court. "Meghan, I didn't want to see anyone, but Charlie was very persuasive. I thought it would be a waste of time, but I have to tell you, I can't remember the time I've had so much fun." Fun. That was a word Ziegler hadn't used since...well, since Gayle was alive.

"I've enjoyed it, too, Grant," she said quietly. She smiled then added, "Not the part where I got my ass kicked, but other than that...."

He extended his hand and she took in hers. "I'd like something more with you, but that's completely up to you."

Nikki's words came crashing in on her. "They always want more." But then, Meghan knew that going in. Of course he'd want more. He was old but he wasn't dead. Men liked sex and if she was going to make the kind of money she needed, that was just the way it had to be.

"I think I'm okay with that. With...something more," she said rather demurely.

"Are you sure? I ask because as strange as it sounds I find myself really liking you, Meghan. I haven't felt anything like that in a very long time." He sat there for a moment then said, "Look. I know how old I am. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for a young woman as beautiful as you are to be here with me. I just hope the compensation is making it worth your time."

Meghan had forgotten about the money. He'd offered ten thousand for the swimming and ten more for playing tennis. As badly as she needed the cash, it seemed obscene to take any money—let along that much—for doing something she'd often paid to do.

"You're more than generous, Grant," she told him.

"And I'll be even more so as we progress in our relationship. I hate talking about it, but if you're okay with taking this to the next level, there will be a check for $25,000 when you leave next time."

Twenty-five thousand dollars. Meghan's head was spinning. She'd have over $50,000 after just the first three appointments and more lay ahead. Potentially, a lot more.

"I'm very much willing to take the next step with you, Grant. And well, I've enjoyed being with you, too. Even if you did kick my ass."

Ziegler laughed and asked her if she could see him Saturday night. "Of course," she said. "What should I wear for you and what time would you like me to be ready?"

"Surprise me, Meghan. You'd look beautiful in anything. And Charlie will be by at 8pm if that's okay."

"You're seeing the same guy again?" Nikki asked with incredulity.

"Is that a bad thing?" Meghan asked wondering if she might be making some kind of mistake.

"No. I mean, I guess not. I've just never seen any man more than twice. If you're feeling pressured, you'll let me know, right?"

"Yes, of course. But there's no pressure. Or at least there hasn't been."

"What's going on, Meg? Have you reached the 'something more' level?"

Meghan was staring at her chemistry text unable to concentrate. "Uh-huh."

"I told you it was just a matter of time. Did you think I was kidding or something?" Nikki wasn't being critical. She was just concerned.

"No, of course not. And I'm actually okay with it in spite of the age difference."

"A positive attitude really helps. Remember, just close your eyes and fantasize about your favorite actor or rock star or hip-hop artist. Sometimes an old boyfriend works, too. I can promise you it really helps."

"I'll keep that in mind," Meghan said absentmindedly. She looked at her watch. It was 6:30. "I guess I should get ready." 

"Good luck, Meg. I'd say 'have fun' but I know better. Break a leg, maybe? His leg?" 

Nikki laughed at her attempt at humor, but Meghan was thinking about what lay ahead. Okay, she lay ahead. That was a given. But what would it be like making love—no, having sex—with a man who was older than her father? The thought both creeped her out and yet at some level, excited her. Maybe it was the man himself. Meghan knew that all kinds of beautiful young women threw themselves at Hugh Hefner and he was a LOT older than Grant and not nearly as attractive. Well, attractive as far as older men go, that is.

She spent a couple hundred dollars on herself for a pair of new heels but otherwise had put every dollar in a savings account she'd opened up at a nearby bank. The lady who helped her didn't stare or ask a single question when she produced nearly $30,000 in cash in mostly $100 bills. Meghan assumed that's how banks stayed in business.

She chose the one remaining outfit from the shoot she hadn't worn. It was a very pretty, iced-pink colored sweater and black skirt. The black, 4-inch heels she'd bought would go perfectly with it as would the black handbag she owned. It was really the only decent-looking thing she had and it had been a birthday present from her father when she graduated from high school. Other kids got cars, Meghan got the bag she'd wanted for her entire senior year.

It was turning cold and she was shivering by the time the limo pulled up. She'd learned not to go out more than a couple of minutes early because it was always exactly on time. She was freezing as she slid in next to Charlie.

"Good evening, Meghan. Grant had me pick this up for you when the cold front came through." He held up a gorgeous black coat in a way that told Meghan she should put it on.

"Thank you, Charlie. It's beautiful."

"It should be. It cost nearly $5,000."

"For a coat? That's insane!"

"No. That's Grant Ziegler. He likes you, kid. A lot. He probably won't tell you himself, but you've made quite an impression on him. Whatever you've been doing, keep doing it."

Meghan wasn't about to say she couldn't just keep doing what she'd been doing because that wasn't enough.

"Have fun," Charlie said with a wry smile as they stopped in front of the main entrance to 'the palace'.

Grant was waiting for her when she came inside. "Nice coat," he said smiling at her.

"Yes, it is. And thank you for it, but it's way too much, Grant. I'm a simple girl. I don't need expensive things." She watched his eyes to see if she'd offended them. It was clear she hadn't.

"Well, I can appreciate that, but I have a problem giving things to people I like that aren't nice. Nice may mean something different to you than it does to me, but I'm hoping that in time, you'll learn to appreciate the finer things in life."

He led her into another large room where there was a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a whole lot of candles. He helped her with her coat and said, "When I asked you to surprise me, I had no idea the surprise would be this pleasant." Without being lewd, he looked at her from head to toe and said, "That very much flatters your beautiful figure, Meghan. I'm very pleased."

"Thank you," was all Meghan could manage to say. She had that flutter again. That feeling she'd had in the pool and then again later on.

"Speaking of finer things, are you a connoisseur of fine wines by any chance?" he asked as he showed her the bottle.

"I'm afraid all I know is that bottled wine is supposed to better than the boxed kind."

Ziegler laughed but not in a rude way. "This is called Penfolds Grange Hermitage 1951. There are more expensive wines, but this is by far my favorite and it's well under fifty a bottle."

"That's amazing," Meghan said. "I would have thought a really fine wine would cost at least several hundred dollars. I can't wait to try it."

Ziegler looked at her and patiently without being insulting said, "No, my dear. Under fifty thousand. In fact, it's under forty thousand and to me, it's the most drinkable wine on earth. I hope you enjoy it, as well."

As he helped Meghan with her chair she couldn't stop staring at the bottle. It was worth more than the two cars her parents had owned combined! He poured her a small sip and handed her the glass. She did know she was supposed to taste it before he would pour more. "It's very nice," she said hoping her complete lack of experience wouldn't belie her answer.

"I'm glad you like it," he said as he filled her glass not quite half full before doing the same to his.

"To new experiences?" he suggested.

"Yes. To new experiences." Both took a modest sip and sat down their glasses.

"That is heaven on earth," Ziegler said.

He asked her how she'd been and what she'd done since their last...appointment...then told her how he'd spent his time. They finished the glass and Ziegler asked if she'd like some more.

"Oh, no thank you. It was wonderful, but I can't help but think I just spent more of your money on that one glass than I made all last year."

"Keep in mind, it is my money, Meghan, and also please try to understand that I very much like spending it on you." He gauged her reaction which involved a smile and a look in her eyes that told him she was enjoying letting him do just that. What he liked most of all though, was how that look didn't have 'greedy' written all over it. Charlie had done his research well. Of course, he always did, but Meghan was truly amazing.

"So. Do you still feel comfortable enough to join me upstairs?" he asked.

Meghan looked down for a moment then back up. She looked directly at him and said, "I do." Her smile made him very happy.

He took her hand and led her up a very long spiral staircase to the second floor. They walked hand-in-hand down a long, wide hallway then into a room that seemed nearly as large as her parents' entire house. There was a massive bed in the middle surrounded by the kind of furnishings she'd only seen in magazines and then only a few times. There was an enormous hot tub, a sauna, and a steam room on the far side separated by marble tile. The artwork had to be very expensive, but Meghan didn't recognize anything. She was clearly not just out of her element but entirely in another world. "I might be able to get used to this world," she said to herself.

Grant said, "Play Sinatra" and immediately the room was filled with the sound of his rich baritone voice. Meghan didn't know the song, but it had a very romantic quality to it.

"I thought we might ease into this gently by starting out with a slow dance or two." He held out his hand and said, "Would you favor me with a dance?"

Meghan nodded, smiled, and took his hand. As he began leading her she was glad she'd allowed her father to teach her how to dance when she was much younger. She enjoyed dancing but rarely had the opportunity. This was very...pleasant. And as odd as it sounded, the revulsion she expected to feel when this older man with graying hair took her in his arms wasn't there. In fact, she felt something else entirely unexpected. This felt...comfortable. It was...nice.

As the song ended, Ziegler asked, "May I kiss you again?"

Meghan felt that flutter again and said, "Yes." As she closed her eyes she remembered to think about a younger, handsome man. Tom Brady, the football player came to mind as his lips pressed on hers. It was then she realized even Brady was much older than she was but still much younger than the man who was kissing her. 

She found herself lost in a swirl of thoughts and emotions and when he released her, she realized she was thinking about...him. About Grant Ziegler. She felt her cheeks fill with blood, something that hadn't happened in many years. "Did I embarrass you, Meghan?" he asked with genuine concern.

She couldn't look up at him or he'd know. She shook her head and told him, "No, not at all. That was just...very nice."

Ziegler sensed what she was feeling. "And that surprised you, didn't it?" he asked her. "It's okay. It surprised me, too."

When the next song ended and Ziegler kissed her again, Meghan kissed him back. That flutter became a rage of urgent needs and she felt unable to keep from pushing her tongue deep into his mouth. He accepted her offer and gave his in return.

Her hand instinctively slid down his body and stopped at the growing bulge in his crotch while his made its way just below her soft, round breasts. Both of them gently squeezed and fondled one another at the same time.

Meghan sighed then moaned loudly as he squeezed harder. "Fuck me, Grant," she said. She didn't care how crazy this was or how old he was. She just wanted him inside her. No, she needed him inside her. She'd never gone this long without sex and she was beside herself with need and passion.

Ziegler pushed her onto the bed as he unbuttoned and removed his shirt. Meghan worked furiously on his belt and zipper until he was naked and on top of her. She noticed the gray chest hair but didn't care. She needed him to fuck her and to fuck her now.

She lifted up and slid off her skirt. Grant pulled it down and she kicked it the rest of the way off with a fling of her foot. She reached out and grabbed his cock which was pleasantly large and growing in her hand. "Mmmm. That feels so good. Please fuck me with it," she moaned.

He slid his hand between her legs and found her warm, wet, and ready. He toyed with her clit long enough to make her gasp and pull him toward her. "I need you inside my pussy. Fuck me now!" she begged him.

Ziegler slid into her effortlessly. She was drenched in her own juices. She was firm and tight and so beautiful. Ziegler hadn't been with anyone since Gayle died and he knew he wouldn't last long. He also knew he couldn't cum inside her without a condom. He was amazed she hadn't insisted he wear one. As he looked at her pretty face he could tell she was completely lost in the experience.

"Oh my fucking God!" she screamed. "Jesus! Oh, God! Oh, fuck me!"

Ziegler hammered her pussy hard until he felt himself begin to explode. He withdrew and used his hand to shoot large streams of warm cum all over her pretty pink sweater. As he did so, Meghan used her own hand to intensify her first orgasm with this very...handsome older man. 

Meghan screamed as she came so hard she thought she might break apart. Still panting she pulled him down next to her to avoiding the long strings of semen all over her tits, neck, and chin.

"Oh, my God. That was...amazing!" she managed to say. She was once again aware of who she was with and said, "Oh, I'm so sorry. Was that okay for you, Grant?"

Ziegler laughed loudly and said, "Okay? It was more than okay. It was...the shit."

Meghan laughed at his attempt to say something hip. She rolled over getting cum all over him anyway as she said, "Grant? You don't have to be cool to impress me."

"Did I impress you?" he said as she kissed him again.

"Mmmm. Very much. But not with your words." She reached and stroked his now flaccid cock. "With this."

"There was a time when I'd be ready to go again right now," he said as he stroked her soft hair. "I'm afraid that ship has sailed."

"That's okay," Meghan said. "I'll take quality over quantity any day."

Ziegler smiled again and said, "I like the way you think."

After a few minutes of laying in one another's arms, Ziegler said, "Meghan, I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure," she purred. "Anything."

"It's about...quality," he said.

"Regarding sex?" Meghan was very concerned she'd done something wrong. "I'm sorry I didn't...you know...take you in my mouth, but I just wanted...."

He interrupted her and said, "No, no, no. It isn't that. I enjoy that, of course, but that's not what I want to discuss."

"Oh, okay," she said.

"Meghan. I have...needs. Well, one very special need. Don't get me wrong. Tonight was wonderful. It was truly amazing. But I don't do well with just...well...what people call 'vanilla sex.' I need something more."

Meghan felt her throat tighten as a chill ran down her back. "Can you tell me what kind of needs?" she asked trying not to let her growing apprehension show through.

He rolled her over on her back and leaned up on his elbow. "I made quite a mess here, didn't I?" he said as he looked at the cum stains that were already hardening on her sweater. "I'll have several new things sent to your room, okay?" he said.

"No, that's okay. You don't need to do that. I can buy my own now with the money you...." She stopped when she realized she was talking about sex for money. It made her feel...dirty.

"That's your money, Meghan. All of it. Please let me do this for you, okay?"

She forced herself to look at him and nodded.

He looked directly into her eyes and said, "Have you heard of erotic asphyxiation?"

Meghan shook her head. "No. What's that?" she asked.

"It's what I need to fully enjoy this." He could see she had no idea what he meant so he continued by saying, "Here. Get on top of me, okay?"

She did as he asked and as she did she felt her still-wet pussy against his body. "Put your hands around my neck." She did. "Now, don't be afraid, but I want you to choke me."

Meghan recoiled and pulled her hands back. "What? Choke you? I don't understand."

"It's okay," he told her. "You won't hurt me. I promise. Give me your hands." He put them back around her neck and said, "Right there. Just like that. Now, I want you to use your thumbs to press down right here on both sides." He positioned her thumbs on top of his carotid arteries then said, "Now press down."

Meghan didn't move. "I can't. I don't want to hurt you," she said. There was fear and confusion in her eyes.

"You won't. I promise you. This is what I need to really enjoy sex with you. So please do this for me, okay?"

Meghan sat on top of him looking into his eyes. The feelings she'd had were fading and they were being replaced by something else. Something she couldn't explain but something she didn't like.

Finally, she began pressing down. Very gently at first then slightly harder. "Good," he said. "Harder." She increased the pressure. "Now watch my eyes. Keep pushing harder and harder until my eyes close. When they do, immediately take your thumbs away."




Who's Your (Sugar) Daddy?



"What does this do for you?" she asked with genuine concern.

"It's the greatest rush you can ever experience without a needle," he told her. He felt himself growing hard again as he thought of this beautiful creature on top of him, cutting off the supply of oxygen to his brain followed by its immediate return. A good or even a great orgasm would taken to new and unbelievably pleasant heights when the oxygen re-entered his brain.

"So go ahead. Do it for me. Please?"

Meghan pressed harder and harder then harder still. She watched in a mix of horror and amazement when his eyes fell shut. Immediately, she lifted up her hands. As she did, she heard a loud sucking sound as his lungs involuntarily pulled in a desperately-needed volume of air. Seconds later, he was fully recovered.

"You see? I'm very much alive and well. When you do that during an orgasm it's beyond amazing." He held her hands in his and said excitedly, "Will you do that for me? Next time?"

Meghan felt dizzy. She wasn't a prude. She'd done quite a few things with Steve to include anal. Had he asked her for that, she'd have been happy to say yes because, truth be told, she'd kind of enjoyed it the two times she'd tried it. But this was...scary. It frightened her. Even so, she managed to croak, "Okay. I'll try it."

After they'd both showered and he'd found her something to wear home, he handed her two envelopes. "Go ahead. Take a look," he said.

She opened the first and saw a check for $25,000. "Wow. Thank you so much, Grant."

"Now the other one."

This one was different. It had something hard inside. When she tore it open, a set of keys fell to the floor. Meghan bent down and picked them up. They were for a Jaguar. She held them in her hand and just stared. "Grant, I can't. This is...."

"Too expensive?" he offered. "Nonsense. I want you to have it."

Meghan kept turning the keys over and over in her hand. "No, it isn't the money. It's the car." She looked up at him and said, "I can't go from walking to...this. It will raise questions I can't answer. Questions I don't want to answer."

He opened the desk drawer and said, "I thought you might feel that way." He took the keys to the Jag from her and replaced them with a set that had the Nissan emblem on them. "A brand new Altima coupe with a V6 engine shouldn't arouse too much suspicion."

"I don't know what to say," she said as she looked at the new set of keys.

"'Thank you' would be nice," he said cheerfully.

"Thank you. I'm just speechless," she told him.

"I don't need a speech, Meghan. I just need you to try and understand me." He moved closer and told her, "If you could learn to like me, that would be even better. But for now, I'll settle for you just trying to accept me...and my needs." He put his hands on her arms and said, "I understand how unusual my request is, Meghan. I can tell it's something you're not used to. But it's an essential part of sex for me so this is my way of letting you know just how much I appreciate your willingness to do this." He took the keys from her hand and laid them on his desk. "You'll get another one of those, too," he told her pointing to the envelope she was still holding. "But there will be a lot more money in it. You see, Charlie's told me how much your parents owe for medical bills and so forth. Let's just say you won't have to worry about that after our next date." He brushed her hair back and said, "Do you mind me calling it that?"

"Um, no. That's fine, I guess. Wow. I don't know what to say. This is all just so much to take in," she said.

"Say 'yes'," he whispered. "Say yes for me, Meghan."

She slipped the envelope in her purse and without looking up quietly said, "Yes."

He took her in his arms and kissed her. Meghan responded but not like before. This request, this...need of his...had changed things and she wasn't sure she could get passed it. Maybe it would be different...better...after she'd tried it once, but that seemed unlikely. It wasn't just risky, it felt...dangerous. Not like riding a motorcycle too fast or jumping 50 feet from an old bridge into the river near her grandparents' house but.... She chose to stop thinking about it because no matter what, this was the only way to change things for the better for her family so like it or not, she knew she would do it.

"So next Saturday then? Same time?" he said as he showed her out.

"Um...yes. That sounds fine. Good night, Grant. And thank you again for...everything."

Meghan stepped outside and shuddered. It was cold to sure, but the shudder came from somewhere deep inside and had little to do with the weather. 

The bedroom was exactly as she remembered it. There were a few more candles but otherwise it was as it was the week before. Grant had requested she wear the new things he'd bought her and laid out in a private room. She had to admit, she liked the way she looked in the white bustier, stockings, and heels. The string of expensive pearls and matching earrings added a touch of class to her already very sexy look. He'd told her they were hers to keep and that he hoped she might wear them for him again sometime.

She'd found it impossible to think about anything else the previous week and for the first time in her life she'd failed a test. Meghan was distraught any time she made a B. Failing was unheard of. And yet none of that seemed to matter to her anymore. Her once stable life had turned into a roller coaster ride of emotional ups and downs with the ups being few and the downs being many. Now she was at a turning point she knew she should turn away from but found herself unable to do so. She felt like the proverbial moth being drawn toward the flame. No matter how warm it got she was unable to fly away from the fire that would consume her.

Grant was in a silk robe waiting for her. "Are you ready, Meghan?" he asked as she came near him.

Every fiber of her being wanted to run but she found herself smiling and saying, "Yes, I'm ready."

Ziegler asked her to do everything they'd done the last time to include fellating him. Meghan took him in her mouth and this time she did fantasize about someone else. She thought of Steve and they way they'd made love those many times. Even the first time—her first time—had been very pleasant. Her friends had told it would hurt but if there was any pain it was subsumed by the pleasure she felt as his large, hard cock hand penetrated her for the first time. She'd been lost in his eyes and his promises of love followed by the warmth and fullness of him inside her. The next time, she'd taken him in her mouth for the first time and she clearly recalled that it was even more exciting for her than having sex. It was so...naughty. It was so...personal. She felt sexy and desirable when she did that. So as she took Grant in her mouth, he became Steve.

She was lost in her thoughts when he pushed her away. "Jesus, that's amazing, Meghan. No one has ever done that to me like that," he said as he pulled her top of him.

"Slide down on my cock, okay?" he said as she guided him in.

Again, she closed her eyes and dreamed of Steve as Ziegler's rhythm increased. Harder and faster. She could Steve's handsome young face and actually feel him inside her wet pussy. "Okay, go ahead," she heard him say.

Her puzzled look concerned him. "You didn't forget, did you?" he said as he slowed slightly.

"Oh. No. Of course not," she said. She leaned down and put her hands where he'd shown her as he again increased the pounding. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Push down. I'm getting close. Don't stop until my eyes close, okay?"

Meghan nodded as she began pressing. He was slamming her as hard as she'd even been fucked and in spite of all of the confusing feelings it felt...so...good. She was now breathing in short little gasps of her own. Sharp inhales and small cries of pleasure as she pushed down harder.

"More," he croaked. "Harder."

Meghan pressed down harder and harder until she felt him stop fucking her as his eyes closed. She released immediately just as he'd told her but his eyes didn't open like they had that first time. "Grant? Grant! Are you okay? Wake up! Grant!"

Meghan was panicked. "Oh, Jesus! Oh, God." She was trembling as she tried to think. What should she do? Where was her cell phone? In her purse. Where had she left her purse? Was he...dead? She put her ear next to his nose. She thought he was still breathing, but she wasn't sure.

She slid off him and then off the bed. She looked around frantically when she remembered. "Charlie! Oh, please God, be outside," she thought as she ran to the front of the house completely unaware she was naked from the waist down. She flung open the doors and saw the limo. She ran outside and banged on the door. "Charlie! Open the door! Something's wrong with Grant! Jesus! Open the...."

The door flung open wide and Charlie jumped out of the limo. "What the hell is going on, Meghan?" He looked at her and saw he shaved pussy dripping with cum. She was unaware Grant had begun shooting his load as she was cutting off his air supply.

Charlie knew exactly where he'd be. He sprinted up the stairs and found his boss in bed and still unconscious. He didn't even need to ask what happened. There was a handle on one of the walls. Davis pulled it open and there was an O2 bag and a defibrillator inside. Since Grant was breathing but ever-so shallowly, Charlie left the defib and began bagging. He tossed his cell phone to Meghan who'd just entered the room. "Hit #1 on my speed dial—now!"

Her hands were still trembling and her entire body was shaking. She managed to find the menu then did as she was told. "It's ringing," she said. 

"Put it on speaker and set it on the bed," he told her as he kept forcing air into Grant's lungs.

Both of them heard a man's voice on the other end say, "Say instructions."

Charlie called out, "ER team to the residence. Second floor bedroom. Unconscious but breathing."

In less than five minutes, two men were running up the stairs carrying a gurney followed by a third man in scrubs.

While they opened the stretcher, the third man pulled out his stethoscope and listened to his heart and then to each carotid artery. "Sounds like a blockage." He reached into the black bag he'd carried and filled a syringe then injected it into Ziegler's still body.

"Blood thinner. Get him on the gurney!" he called out. As they did, Charlie tossed a blanket over Grant's body.

He threw another one at Meghan and said, "Wrap this around you and follow me."

"What's going on, Charlie? Is he going to be okay?" Meghan called out as she pulled the blanket around her waist and followed him downstairs.

"I don't know, but no more questions for now, okay?"

There was a black vehicle outside next to the limo. The back end was open and the gurney was quickly slid inside it and the two men plus the man in scrubs jumped in beside it. The doors closed and the vehicle sped off to the rear of the house where Megan watched it disappear into what looked like a garage from the outside but appeared to be some kind of medical facility from what little she could see.

"It's a private hospital," Charlie told her. "Listen. We've gotta get you dressed and out of here right now. Go grab your things and get back down to the car as fast as you can!" he ordered.

Charlie was on a kind of special black phone with a large, fat, black antenna the entire ride back to her dorm. Meghan was still shaking and scared out of her mind. All she knew was Grant was alive and that he'd likely had some kind of seizure or possibly a stroke. Charlie told her several times not to worry, but she was well beyond worry. She was...afraid. She was dazed and trembling as Charlie told her to go inside and act like nothing happened. She hadn't even noticed when he'd dropped the keys to the new car and the envelope in her purse. 

As she stepped outside into the cold air, she just stood there staring as the limo pulled away. At some point, she began making her way back to her room where she saw Nikki sitting on her bed with a pair of headphones stuck in her ears listening to some very loud music.

Meghan dropped everything she was holding on the bed before Nikki finally noticed her. "Hey! You like shit. Everything okay?" Only then did she realize Meghan looked like she'd seen a ghost. 

She jumped up and put her hands on Meghan's shoulders. "Meghan? Are you okay? What happened? Talk to me, sweetie. Tell me what's going on."

Meghan sat on the edge of her bed and just stared into space. "Did someone hurt you?" Nikki demanded to know. "Meghan!!!"

Meghan turned toward her. As she did her faced screwed up and she began to cry. Not like before but uncontrollably. Nikki sat up with her the entire night until both of them fell asleep on Meghan's bed. As before she knew better than to ask questions.

On Monday, Meghan forced herself to get up and go to class. She'd stayed in bed the rest of the weekend and had forgotten about her purse and the things she'd brought back with her. Nikki had laid them in one of the two small chairs in the room and set Meghan's purse on the desk. That's when she saw the envelope. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and slid one of her nails under the flap. As promised, there was a check for $150,000. As she picked up her purse to put it away, she heard an unfamiliar jingle. "The car," she said to herself. There it was. A keyless fob for a brand new Nissan Altima.

Meghan checked her cell phone but the battery was dead. She plugged it in and noticed several texts. There were ten from her mom, one from Charlie, and one from.... She blinked several times then looked again. There was one from Steve. Even in her depressed state, she felt her heart flutter as she saw it. She opened the text and read: "Meg. I graduated mid-semester. Long story there. I'm in town and came by your room but no one was in. I'll be here 'til Monday. Call me. S."

Until Monday. What day was it? Jesus, it was Monday. Meghan didn't feel like talking yet but she wanted to see him. See replied: "Sorry. Been busy. Hope you haven't left yet. Can we get together today? M."

Almost immediately she got a reply. "Just checking out of the motel. Can be there in 20 minutes. That okay? S."

She wrote back: "Yes! See you then."

She jumped in the shower, threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater then dried her hair in just under 15 minutes, a personal record for Meghan. She was putting her things away or rather stuffing them in her closet when she remembered the other texts. She read her mom's first: "Honey. Please call as soon as you can. Love, Mom."

The second read: "Meghan. We really need to talk right away. The hospital turned us over to collections. We're three months behind on the mortgage and just got an eviction notice. My car was repossessed Saturday morning. Please call me. I'm worried sick and now I'm even more worried about you. Call me. Please." All of the others were expressions of growing concern.

Meghan punched out a quick reply: "Mom. So sorry. My battery died and I couldn't find my charger. I'm okay. Will call this morning. Love, Meg."

She quickly opened the text from Charlie. She noted it had just been sent a few minutes before she got up: "Situation is very serious. Must see you this morning. Call immediately."

Meghan decided Charlie could wait. She put the phone down just as she heard a knock on the door. Meghan took a quick look in the mirror. She quickly smoothed her hair then went to the door.

"Steve! Oh, my God! What a nice surprise. It's so good to see you. Come in!"

Steve stepped inside, closed the door, then hugged Meghan. She squeezed him back and Steve winced. "Easy!" he said.

She'd forgotten about his broken collar bone. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's coming along pretty well but it's still really tender." He pulled back and looked at her and said, "But the pain was worth it. You look great, Meg."

"Thank you, Steve. So what brings you here?" she asked. "Not that I'm complaining. It's just so unexpected."

"Well, as I said, I just graduated—a semester early. I was gonna tell you about it at the hospital but I never saw you again and...."

"I am so sorry, Steve. That's totally my fault. I just got so caught up in everything and...."

"How's your dad doing, by the way?"

Meghan asked him to sit down and said, "Physically, he's doing pretty well. He had open-heart surgery after the heart attack and he's recovering quite well. Financially, things are bad, Steve. I mean, they're really bad."

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked knowing there wasn't.

"No, unfortunately there isn't, but thank you for asking. Maybe we can discuss something more pleasant. You know, like why you drove all the way out here."

"Meghan, I felt terrible the way things ended with us. I was such an ass."

"Yes, you were. I know we were young and...well...even so, I thought you were the one. Silly I know, but it's how I felt."

"Yeah. Same here. I didn't realize how much you meant to me until I'd lost you. Um, well, so...are you seeing anyone these days?"

Meghan was brought back to reality by his question. Grant, the money, the incident. Charlie's urgent text. "Um, no. Not really. I mean I've had a few dates and stuff but nothing serious. You?"

"Actually, I just broke up with a girl I'd been dating for almost a year."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," she said.

"Don't be. It was over and well, when I saw you in the hospital, I knew...."

The noise startled both of them. "Meghan? Open up. It's Charlie." He was pounding on the door. "Meghan? Open the door right now!"

Meghan had not only flinched, she'd jumped. And she looked afraid. "Jesus, Meghan. Who is this guy? Is everything okay?"

"Um, yeah. Everything is fine, Steve. He's just...he's...." She looked over at her purse. "I bought a car and haven't been able to make the payments. He's from the collection agency. It's fine, really. I'll just step out and talk to him."

Steve insisted on going with her as Charlie hollered her name again and pounded on the door. "No. I need to talk to him alone. All he wants is his money or the car." She grabbed the keys out her purse and said, "Don't worry. It'll be fine. I promise."

Meghan opened the door and stepped into the hallway. "Jesus Christ, Meghan! Did you get my text?"

Meghan put up her finger and shhh'd him. "I have someone in my room. Let's move outside."

They went to the foyer and stayed just inside the building. "What is it that can't wait, Charlie? Is Grant okay?"

Charlie looked down then shook his head. "No. Meghan, Grant died two hours ago. It was a cerebral hemorrhage."

Meghan's knees went weak. "Oh, my God!" she cried. She threw her hands over her mouth and shrieked, "I killed him. Oh, Jesus. Oh, fuck! Charlie, I killed him!" Meghan stifled a scream but couldn't stop the tears or the trembling. "I killed him, Charlie. Oh, Jesus, I killed him!"

Charlie put his hands on her shoulders and said, "Meghan. Listen to me." He gently shook her and waited for her to look at him. "Listen to me carefully. No one and I mean NO ONE can know about this. Nod if you understand me."

Meghan was sobbing and gasping for breath but she managed to nod her head. "Good girl. Secondly, this is not your fault. Grant knew the risks. Hell, so did I. We'd discussed this many times and I knew it was an integral part of his love life. His private physician believes that not doing...that...for so long may have caused plaque in one of his carotid arteries to break off and drift to his brain. It was a very real risk but one Grant accepted. You can't blame yourself for this. I don't and I know he didn't, either."

Meghan was collecting herself as she managed to ask, "How do you know that? Did he wake up and tell you?"

"That's why we need to talk. I need you to come to the house. We have some things to take care of before we announce his death to the media. There are things we need to settle before we make the announcement. Can you come with me right now?"