BETWEEN Soph and Abs

Chapter 7

It's 6.40pm. I make sure I'm early today. I went home at 5pm sharp, get a quick shower, dressed into the outfit I planned with Abby last night, and drove here with her Civic. 

Standing at the visitor parking bay of the location mentioned in Appendix 1, I'm still deciding if I should go up or drive home. 

If I should be a sugar baby. 

If I should forget about selling my body but go on the conventional way; meet a guy, go on a date instead. 

Abby made me promise to call her by midnight to ensure I'm safe. Midnight, tomorrow morning, tomorrow evening, and Sunday morning. She's the only one who knows about this and she warns me if I didn't call her at the promised timing, she's gonna call police to come to this place. To his place. 

Veronica gave me a card that allows me to enter the premise. Since this is my first time, I registered at the guard house for a parking spot. But I can go straight to his house using this card. 

This is it. 

I walk to the lobby, straight to the elevator and tap my card. The button 40 lights up as the door closes. So his house is at the top floor? Is it a penthouse? Normally the rich millionaire protagonist owns a penthouse with amazing view. Finally, finally there's a quality that matches my fantasy. My expectation, I mean.

The door opens as I step out. I hope I look like a 19 year old. I wear kind of the same outfit like our first meeting; another plain white shirt with blue skinny jeans and white sneakers. But this time with a large tan tote bag that contains all my personal belongings; grooming stuffs, a few shirts, a dress, and seven sets of langerie. 

Oh shut up, I don't know if he's the kind of guy who wet my panties 3 times a day so it's better to be prepared. 

There's only one door on this floor. I guess there's a reason Appendix 1 didn't mention any house number; Level 40, Maison de Verdue. 

I googled what it means. Why yes, the building is full of plants. I somehow feel refreshed despite this place being in the middle of the city. In fact, it's only 3 minutes drive from my work place. I can never afford a place in this area even with my pay. I bet he's a real

millionaire. Or billionaire. Is he?

I'm not sure if this card can access this penthouse as well so I run the bell. It takes 5 seconds for the door to be opened as a tall man stands there, a hand in the pocket while another on the door. Well hello Mr Sin-clair. You look sinful today. 

"You're punctual today." He states, with no expression whatsoever. He steps aside, giving me some space to come inside.

"I aim to please, Mr Sinclair." I rehearsed that since the day I came home with the signed contract. Because I do, aim to please. 

He smirks and gestures me to a cabinet, "You can place your shoes here and wear one of the slippers." 

I nod and do as he says. He look dapper in a white crisp shirt and black slacks. Perhaps he just got home from work. He is wearing socks underneath his blue house-slipper. 

He waits patiently for me to take off my sneakers as I slip into one of the white slippers. 

"They called me 30 minutes ago to inform your arrival. What took you so long to come up? Were you lost?" Yes, I was lost. I was in doubt, if I should come and be your sugarbaby. If this sinful act will promise me hell in the afterlife. 

But here I am. Guess I don't care about hell in the afterlife if I can taste heaven tonight. Or many more nights these 3 months. 

"Er no, my mom called me that's why I'm only here now." White lies. 

"Have a seat. Would you like some drinks?" 

"Water is fine." I smile, and sit on the white sofa. The place is huuuuugeeee! Everything's white and sterile, just like my place, just the way I like it. Perhaps you're my soulmate? 

Shit, I should stop reading all those billionaire romance novels! It's messing my head! 

He comes back with a glass of water and a small glass of what looks like tea-like colour. I don't think it's tea though. Maybe alcohol. 

I don't drink. My family are devout Christians; we don't drink, we don't have casual s*x, I even lost my virginity to my husband.

You can call me a rebel. After 32 years, I finally decide that I don't want to do things just because I'm a Christian. I wanna try stuffs. Maybe I'll do drinking after this sugar baby thing. Let's check all the boxes! 

"Thank you," I murmur as he puts the glass on the coffee table in front of us. 

"I still have a few things to run with you before we really do this." His stern voice makes me feel a little bit uncomfortable. I feel like I'm meeting my boss on my first day of work. 

Wait, I am meeting my boss. It is my first day of work. But you get what I mean.