While most sugarships—that’s a combination of “sugar” and “relationships”—are formed through introductions facilitated through the Web database, much like some of the popular dating sites, The Sugar Bowl also hosts regional parties where the Daddies and the Babies can mix, mingle, and have face-to-face time to see if there are any common bonds.

What’s the typical “sugarship” look like?

Well, there’s actually a written contract. In a signed agreement, all expectations are laid out. The Sugar Daddy clearly defines what he wants from his Baby. It could be a live-in companion or someone to travel with. It could be as simple as just a weekly dinner date. In return, the Daddy promises the Baby certain things. That could be money, tuition expenses, a car, expensive jewelry, whatever.

Bottom line: the Daddy pays for the Baby.

One thing you will never find in the agreement is an expectation to have sex. In fact, after I joined The Sugar Bowl two weeks ago, it was interesting to read their sample agreement online and find that it actually has a clause that “specifically prohibits discussion and/or agreement regarding sexual acts in exchange for monetary compensation and/or gifts.”

Squeaky-clean on its face, but as CNN showed during the documentary, sex is most often implied. Numerous former Sugar Babies were interviewed. Most of them were very happy with their experiences, having come out of college debt-free. Most of them also admitted that sex was a given and were unapologetic about having their expenses paid in return for a little roll between the sheets.

I find it sickening and repulsive, and yet…here I am. Getting ready to attend a San Francisco Sugar Bowl Mixer, and I have it on good authority from Jonathon Townsend’s secretary, Karla Gould, that he’s going to be here. I’m not the least bit ashamed that I researched and targeted her as an unwilling accomplice in my plans. I learned that she’s thirty-three, divorced, a single mom of three, and desperate for friends. I ultimately stalked her, forming a friendship after a “chance meeting” in her favorite coffee shop. That happened two months ago, and I played up my down-on-my-luck poor college student trying to pay for her master’s degree, which led to Karla suggesting The Sugar Bowl to me. While she’s too old and too overweight to be a marketable Baby, she had no problem with urging me in that direction, and I did a great acting job looking surprised at the suggestion, slightly dubious yet equally intrigued.

Karla was a good inside source, and I even once met her at her office for lunch and got a peek inside the great Jonathon Townsend’s empty office. I almost shuddered in ecstasy as I imagined jamming a letter opener through his eye and deep into his brain while he sat at his desk and computed his millions.

My plan is simple, and as such, will involve a great deal of luck.

I am going to try to catch Jonathon Townsend’s attention tonight. It’s well-known that he prefers blondes, but it’s also well known he prefers big tits, and I have a set of those. My blond hair is not an option, because I don’t want him to recognize me.

I don’t think he will, because I have learned in my research that he’s an egomaniac. I also learned that he fucks a lot of blondes and I have to imagine all of our faces blend together. While I can’t be sure, I’m betting on his cocky arrogance and the fact it probably had him forgetting about me even before the semen in my hair dried that night.

Rage sparks, froths, and bubbles low in my gut as I think about it.

Infiltrate.

Murder.

Repeat.

Keep your eye on the prize, Sela.

Infiltrate…get Townsend’s attention tonight. Make him lust after you. Get him to take you to his house. Make him divulge the other two rapists’ names, which shouldn’t be a problem inducing him to do that given the gun in my purse.

Murder…easy enough. Bullet between the eyes.

Repeat…find the other two and stalk them. Bullets between their eyes as well.

I stare at myself in the mirror just a moment more, taking in the smoky eyes, plump and glossed lips, cleavage on full display. I know what I’m doing is rash, probably not the most airtight of plans, but I can’t help it. I have rage and hate driving me forward. Even if I get caught and spend the rest of my life in prison, it will be better than living with myself having not done anything at all.

Watch out, Mr. Townsend. Your time is almost up.

Chapter 4

Beck

As much as I sneer at JT’s overusage of the Babies available, I have to admit, it’s one of the perks of ownership. While the mission of the The Sugar Bowl is to help facilitate meaningful and companionable relationships—or sugarships as some freak in the marketing department dubbed them—I tend to pick from the eager stock intent on only one-night stands.

I may be richer than God at this point in my life, but I have no desire to pay for some college sweetie to move into my bedroom just so I can have the assurance of someone playing with my balls every night. Instead, I found out soon enough that most of these women are so hungry in their quest for achievement they’ll set their eyes on the top dogs and will pin all their hopes on just one shot at them.

They have an ulterior motive and I don’t hold that against them. Sugar Babies are beautiful, smart, and calculating. Most would make tremendous businesswomen. But they have an agenda, and so do I. They are seeking a windfall in the form of money, and perhaps a lasting connection. I may own the company that makes this possible for them, but I’m in no form or fashion a Sugar Daddy myself. I have no need of relationships, and while I have the utmost respect for women, even those who are cool with my desire only for a one-night stand, I can’t see that changing anytime soon for me.

So yes, I take advantage of this fucking spectacular perk of owning The Sugar Bowl. I get a hot-as-hell fuck with no strings attached, and the best part is, at the end of the night, I can slink out of whatever room we’re occupying…hotel, public restroom, back of my limo…and not have to look at starry eyes in the morning hoping that I’ll wise up and offer marriage to the young beauty in my bed.

Because let’s face it…that’s what these Sugar Babies want. While their immediate goals might be stability and financial gain, they all have the same long-term outlook. Every one of them is hoping to catch a rich man who will keep them swimming in jewels and furs forever.

And good for them. Use what you have, girl, and work it hard. Just don’t flash that shit my way, as I’m not about to give up my independence to commitment.