Page 2 of Double Mountain Men

I almost choke from the order change, but my buddy turns to me and winks. “Liberty is a Third Culture bakery influenced by flavors from the Middle East using fermentation techniques from Copenhagen. They’re known for their pistachio and rose treats, Misty. We might as well indulge.”

Then, she whips out a wallet emblazoned with Coach “C” logos, and pays the exorbitant bill like it’s nothing. I watch, astonished, but manage to keep my mouth shut until we’re at a small table together.

“Jenna, that was thirty-five dollars for two pastries and two drinks,” I whisper. “I have to ask: how are you managing it? I mean, I know you’re in work study too, but your job at the school gym pays the same as mine, which is basically nothing.”

Jenna merely grins while biting into her pistachio croissant with a satisfying crunch.

“Oh, I quit work study,” she says in a careless tone. “They were paying me minimum wage to clean showers and sanitize the most disgusting flip flops ever. There was no way I was going to put in another minute there.”

I stare at my beautiful blonde friend, my own food untouched.

“Buthoware you doing it, then?” I ask, gesturing with a vague wave to her hair, and then to her outfit. “I mean, the highlights, the fancy gym clothes, and even the food! Jen, I’m eating canned beans and buying two-dollar next-day bread from the bodega because I’m so poor!”

Jenna frowns at me, immediately concerned.

“You are? You should have told me! I’ll spot you,” she says, reaching for her wallet.

I shake my head.

“No no, it’s okay because payday is tomorrow. Buthoware you managing this, Jenna? It’s like a fairy godmother appeared or something.”

My friend takes a slow sip of her latte before setting her cup down deliberately. Then she gives me a long look.

“It’s not a fairy godmother,” she states. “It’s Sweet Lies.”

My brow scrunches with confusion.

“What’s Sweet Lies?” I ask. “The latest book you’re reading? A new name for a fancy espresso drink?”

Jenna shakes her head and then looks around surreptitiously before leaning forward.

“No, Misty. I signed up to be a sugar baby on a website called Sweet Lies. It pays well,” she says. “So well, that I’m actually kind of rich now.”

I stare at her.

“A sugar baby website? You mean withsugar daddies?” I ask, mouth agog.

“Shh!” Jenna says before leaning forward again. “Yes. It’s totally legit. I’m eighteen, so I’m legal, and it’s not like it’s prostitution or something. It’s just going on dates with rich guys. It’s a companionship website.”

I stare at her.

“Jen, you know these sites aren’t for companionship,” I say in a low tone. “We grew up in a group home, girlfriend. Don’t be naive.”

“I know, and I’mnotbeing naive,” my buddy agrees in a calm voice. “I’m getting paid, remember? There’s real money on the table.”

I bite my lip as thoughts whirl through my head because the danger of this situation is obvious. In fact, this is what we swore to avoid when we were living in the group home. We didn’t want to use our looks, or our bodies, to make money because all women lose their looks as they age. We were going to use our brains, which is how and why we worked so hard to get into college! But now, it seems my friend has backtracked.

Still, I pause before I speak because I don’t want to sound judgmental.

“I don’t know, Jenna. Do you feel safe? I mean, are the guys normal?”

She winks at me.

“Yes, it’s totally safe! I only meet my clients for dinner, so my dates are in a public place. Plus, I take precautions so that I don’t end up spending time with a deviant.”

I stare at her.

“What kind of precautions?”

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