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8. Ella

Chapter 8

Ella

"Ella! Wake up! Holy shit, wake up!" My eyes fly open at the sound of Gale's excited voice. She hovers over me, her wild hair framing her face as her hands shake my shoulders with a strength I didn't know she possessed. The smell of sweet apple liqueur fills my nostrils as she pushes me to the side and climbs onto the futon next to me.

With a sheepish grin, Gale apologizes. "Sorry, girl. My heart is pounding like a drum and my head is spinning," she admits. "I had a bit too much to drink and should have been more cautious about getting a ride from two men I hardly know. But they were kind enough to let me sit in the front seat with their driver, Bunny, who used to be a cop. She's a real salt-of-the-earth type." As she speaks, Gale's words come out rapid-fire, leaving me stunned and struggling to keep up with her train of thought.

"Bunny?" I rub my eyes and sit up, scanning the room to ensure we're alone and check if she locked the front door behind her.

"Forget about my story," she says, eager to share her news. "After I shower, I'll tell you all about my night. Your news is way more exciting." Her eyes sparkle with anticipation as she leans in closer. "About thirty minutes after you left, your silver hottie, Mr. Whitlock, stormed into The Secret Garden like a raging bull. He and his bodyguard pushed and shoved their way through the staff, demanding they close your auction. When they hesitated, he bid two million dollars on you!" Gale's voice rises with excitement. "That was more than double the highest bid, and they immediately closed your auction. It was insane." She pauses, looking almost worried. "He may have threatened them to do that, I'm not sure."

A shiver of both fear and excitement runs down my spine at the thought of Mr. Whitlock's possessiveness. Why is he acting so crazy?

My heart palpitates like a caffeinated hummingbird as I process the insane amount of money at stake. Two million dollars? My mind spirals with thoughts of what Grant Whitlock could possibly want from me for such an outlandish sum. I stumble out of my makeshift bed and hurry to the kitchen. "Gale, you've really done it this time," I mutter, pouring myself a tall glass of water. "Anyone who spends two million is probably not the type to waste time on fancy dates and smooth talking—he'll want to get straight to business and make sure he's getting his money's worth. There's no way I can provide someone with a two-million-dollar experience."

"Oh, Ella, you're building a whole conspiracy in your mind! It's just a date. These guys are loaded with cash and two million is just pocket change to them. Sure, they might be hoping for a little somethin'-somethin' after dinner, but according to Duncan, they're more interested in taking it slow because they want a real connection. These arrangements can last for years, and these sugar daddies spoil their ladies in exchange for some occasional arm candy. It's not modern-day slavery, it's all business. You can leave whenever you want." With that, Gale leaps out of bed and tosses her shoes across the room, shaking out her hair as she strolls into the kitchen.

"Why would he do that? I outright accused him of trying to derail the auction because he wanted me to be his sugar baby, and he was offended. It doesn't make sense he would then leave here and prove me right." I take a gulp of water, frantically trying to make sense of this bizarre situation. Does this make me a kept woman? A pampered pet? Neither have ever been career aspirations.

Gale snatches my glass and chugs the last drops of water before striding off to the bathroom. "If I were you, I'd brace myself for a call or a visit from your Mr. Whitlock, who is not nearly as charming as his little brother. Don't even think about dozing off. Give me a quick moment to freshen up and I'll tell you all about my bizarre night. You'll never believe it—I can hardly believe it myself."

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