“What’s the matter?” Faith asked. “Other than getting kicked out of your moldy apartment, that is.”
“It’s mostly work. Spending forty hours a week stuck in a cubicle trying to sell people something they don’t need? It’s so soul-destroying.”
“Why don’t you find another job?” Faith asked. “Something you actually like?”
“I wish I could. I don’t have any real skills.”
“You were one of the best artists in our class. I think it’s safe to say you’ve got skills.”
“Fine, I don’t have any useful skills,” Lindsey said. “Art doesn’t pay the bills. Not unless you’re some combination of brilliant and extremely lucky.”
“You could try nannying. It wasn’t what I thought I’d be doing after college either, but it’s fun. And you can make lots of money once you have some experience.”
“I’m not good with kids. I wouldn’t know what to do.”
Faith pursed her lips in thought. “There are other ways to make money, you know.” She lowered her voice. “Ways other than jobs.”
Lindsey sat upright. “What do you mean?”
“It’s probably easier if I show you.” Faith stood up. “I’m going to go grab my laptop. I’ll be right back.” She headed to her bedroom, swaying as she walked.
Lindsey stared at the pitcher on the table. She’d already had far too much to drink. But she was tired of being a responsible adult. She was tired of constantly worrying about work, and money, and debt. All she wanted was to pretend that she was still the carefree young woman she’d been just a year or two ago.
And most of all, she wanted to forget about the fact that she was now living a life that would have made her younger self so disappointed in her.
Lindsey refilled her glass and started gulping her drink down. Just as she finished it off, Faith returned to the living room and sat down next to her.
“I should warn you,” Faith said, typing a web address into her browser. “This is a little unconventional.”
“I don’t care,” Lindsey said. “Show me.”
That was where her memory of that night ended.
Chapter Two
After a long day at work, Lindsey returned to Faith’s apartment. She’d stayed back late for yet another meeting with her boss about her performance. It hadn’t improved. Lindsey couldn’t help but wonder if she was subconsciously sabotaging herself so that she’d be fired.
She sat down on the couch. She could worry about that tomorrow. Lindsey grabbed her laptop from the coffee table and opened it up. Some mindless TV was just what she needed. Lindsey found a show she was midway through binge-watching and pressed play.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Faith, telling Lindsey that she was at the grocery store and would be home soon. Lindsey flicked through her phone, only half watching the show playing on her laptop screen. Her email inbox was full of unread messages. She scrolled through them, deleting most of the emails without opening them.
A particular email caught her eye. The subject line read:
Welcome to thesugarbowl.com.
That had to be spam. But the name of the website jogged something in Lindsey’s memory. She opened the email.
Congratulations. Your application to join The Sugar Bowl has been accepted. Click here to view your profile.
What was this? Lindsey didn’t remember signing up for anything like it. She clicked the link. It took her to a profile page on what looked like a dating website. Her profile page, complete with photos.
And underneath her profile picture were the words “Sugar Baby looking for arrangement.”
What the hell? Suddenly, snippets of Friday night started coming back to her. Lindsey groaned. She’d been right in thinking that getting drunk with Faith could only lead to disaster. Lindsey still didn’t remember the details, but maybe her friend did. She dialed Faith’s number.
Faith answered in her usual cheery voice. “What’s up, Lindsey?”
“Why am I signed up for a sugar baby website?” Lindsey asked.