Today was another rainy, gloomy day of prowling around for an easy prey. I lingered in a dark alley as I watched all sorts of people pass by. Some were too rushed, some too geeky, others were with their wives or girlfriends. I have to admit that it got kind of tiring after a while. The people in Forks weren't exactly top models, not that I was looking for a model I really only cared about their wallets, but still looks always helped to sweeten the time I would have to spend with them.

Like that man from the pastry shop. I never did get his name. Perhaps I would see him today. He would be a fantastic catch, if only I could put up with his cocky demeanor. He, no doubt, was one of those people who grew up with the world at their feet and everything handed to them on a silver platter. His parents probably loved him so much they decided to send him to college to get a good education and therefore have a promising career.

Unlike mine. I don't even think my parents would care if my body was discovered half beaten and left for dead on the 12 o'clock news. My mother had clearly turned her back on me and my father never showed me anything but his backside.

'Oh I'm on my way to a promising career too, high class prostitution'. I added in the 'high class' part because I wasn't quite ready to come to terms with my future. For some reason putting the 'high class' in front of prostitution didn't make it sound as bad. But it was true, I had become somewhat of a hooker slash thief. To put a feather in my cap though, I hadn't actually lived up to what prostitution entailed yet. I've never had to go that far to get what I wanted yet. I hoped to keep it that way.

"Would you like some pointers?" I jolted and whirled around at the sound of a voice behind me, my heart thumping hard. A confident girl stood before me with a light smile. She was leaned against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest as she looked me up and down like a specimen.

"Excuse me?" I said not knowing what else to say to the strange girl. I didn't want to be too rude by saying, 'holy shit balls you scared the crap out of me,' or 'who the heck are you and what do you mean by pointers?'

She shook her head in disappointment, "you most definitely need my help." Wait, what? Did I miss something? Who was this girl?

"I'm sorry," I said slightly irritated, "have we met?"

She smiled at me again and shook her head, "no, but I've been watching you for a while now."

"You've been watching me?" I said with suspicion.

She held up her hand in defense, "Take it easy," she said laughing a little, "not like that. I mean I've noticed that you're new to this lifestyle and maybe you could use my help. I am, after all, a natural." I gave her an even more confused look.

"What lifestyle?"

"High class companionship."

"Companionship?" She nodded.

"I don't use words like prostitution, they are very different from each other. You see, I've been doing this for a long time now, and you could say that I've picked up a lot of pointers and tips along the way. Pointers and tips I'm willing to share with you in exchange for your services."

Services? What did that entail?

"My services?" I questioned. "Are you part of some mob or something?"

She snorted, "Far from it. I'm simply good at what I do, and that is finding people to give me what I need in exchange for companionship. It is a simple thing that is greatly needed by most men." I wanted to brush her off, tell her to get lost, but she seemed so genuine. I wanted to feel her words out a little bit more before I actually told her to beat it.

"And what services would you need from me?"

"Let me train you in the art of seduction, how to woo a man into giving you anything you desire, in exchange for half the profits you not only can, but will make."

"Half my profits? That's not much incentive for me."

"Believe me, half your profits will be quite small for what you will be making. And rest -assure they will be a great deal more than what you're making now."

I snorted at this, call me stubborn, but I didn't trust her all that much. I mean I didn't' even know this random girl. "I'm doing just fine. I don't need your help. I don't even know you. Besides, you say you've been doing this for a while; well I've only been doing this for a short time and already men have fallen victim to me. With more time I'm sure I'll be just as good, if not better than you." Hmm, maybe that was a little harsh.

She moved from her position on the wall and approached me with a look of distaste, "You may not know me, but you do need me. You steal jewelry, watches, food, but you don't steal what's important. You steal pitiful things. And your men may have fallen victim to you, but you don't control them. Own them."

"How do you know?"

Her glossy red stained lips curved up, "I've been watching you. You're good, but you're not great. I could make you exceptional. I steal hearts. And, when my men give in to me, I control every move they make. I can ask for anything and they will give it to me. I can teach you how to do that. You've been making what I call chump change, when you could be making far greater sums."

"If you're so great, why are you still on the streets? Surely you can't be making that much." Yeah, I still didn't trust her.

"I have a place of residence. I could use the extra profits from you though." Oh, now it all made sense. She needed me to make her rent. How predictable. She probably lived in some half abandoned hole in the wall. If she made so much money, why did she need me to help pay her rent? Why was she willing to give me all this supposedly great training? It just didn't fit.

"So you need me to make your rent, is that it?"

She shook her head again with a sigh, "Here is your first lesson: don't assume things are what they seem to be to you. It's better to ask questions to get the answers you seek."

Was she deaf? "That was a question," I stated bluntly.

"On top of your assumption."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine, do you need my profits to make your rent?"

"You mean to ask, what will your profits be going towards." Was she honestly bred for irritation? Avoiding every question like Yoda.

"No, I meant what I said. Stop beating around the question. You know what I want to know. Why do you need me?"

She curled her fingers and started inspecting them as if to look for any defect in the shiny red paint that was smoothed on them. "You're assuming again. Did I say I needed your help? Did I say I needed you?"

Of course she did. I mean, I thought she did. Didn't she?

"You said you needed my extra profits."

"No, I said I could use them. 'Could' being the key word in that sentence, and furthermore, I never specified what they would be used for. You just assumed it would be used for rent." This was stupid. I was supposed to submit myself to her so-called training, if I could even call it that, and it only seem to annoy the crap out of me, and for half my profits? Profits that I didn't even know what they went to?

And must I say it again? I didn't know the girl.

I had been doing just fine on my own before she showed up with her know it all wisdom. To me she seemed more like a nutcase on the loose. I wondered if I should call the mental asylum and let them know that I found the runaway maniac. Maybe there would be a nice reward.

"Perhaps introductions first," she said with a warm smile. "my name is Rosalie Hale. May I ask your name?"

"My name?" I said stupidly wondering if I should give her my real name.

"Your name," she said giggling a little, "you do have one right? Or is that something else I need to provide you with?"

"Isabella," I responded quickly. I couldn't think of a name that wouldn't be so fake it was obvious. I've never been one for the imagination or last minute quick decisions. Or should I say last minute lies.

"Isabella," she said wistfully. "Isabella." She tapped her chin with her pale painted finger, "It's a beautiful name, but perhaps something shorter for your clients."

"I go by Bella most of the time." Oh no, I'm giving into the training. Without even thinking about it. Her eyes lit up as she smiled at me with an excited grin.

"That's perfect. Bella. I like that. Simple, but beautiful. You may not know it, but your name is one of the first attacks on a man's heart. As well as other things of course. Like your attire."

She looked me over with a deep sigh and shook her head, "Yes, we'll need to work on that." I too looked down at my clothing, but couldn't help the feelings of confusion.

"Why does it matter what I wear? I mean, I know I should wear nice clothes, but," I gestured to my clothing, "I would think this would suffice. I mean, who cares what a whore wears?"

Rosalie's eyes instantly took on shock as she looked at me in disbelief. "Never refer to yourself as a whore. Never. We are not slaves, servants, or whores. We are companions. You should learn that the two are very different from each other. And yes, your attire matters. You must be able to show your clients your value without having to say a single a word. If you agree to be my trainee I promise you will come to know and understand these simple things. I'm offering you a better life than the one you live now."

How could I be sure that what she was offering was real? Or even better for that matter? She seemed honest, but how could I know? For all I knew she could be involved in some scam for stupid naïve girls. Like me.

Girls who didn't have anything, anyone and would not be missed.

I looked down my clothing and had to take a moment to think. Before this moment of opportunity, I had been running away from embracing such a lifestyle. I played with the words and ideas of it, but had never considered them all too seriously until this moment. Was I ready to take a dive into the unknown? Was I ready to plunge into what most would consider a shameful life? Or was there more to it than shame? Rosalie made it sound like wonders of the world. Like it was nothing to truly be ashamed of.

Beyond the alley, I looked out into the gloomy greyness as a light blanket of rain started to fall. I had to admit that Rosalie was right about one thing: my lifestyle right now wasn't worth the chump change I was making. If I was going to do this, I needed bigger fish, bigger money. Personally I didn't know how to accomplish such a task. But I knew she did, that much was true.

"Take a chance Bella," she said interrupting my pondering and unsure thoughts, "what is there to lose?" I wish I had a response. I wish I had something to lose, but that was the sad part of my life. Everything I had was already lost. Everything I wanted had been snatched from my grasp and thrown far out of reach. She was right. What else was there for me to lose?

So take the plunge Bella.

"Ok," I said turning to her, "I'll do it."

Over a span of 3 weeks:

I can't believe that I agreed to be trained as a companion for rich men. I was now more or less ready to become a sugar daddy's companion. Short-term of course.

I really didn't like the sound of that; personally I was never one to take advantage or leech off of other people for my wants or even needs. I preferred to be independent and self-reliant. I suppose most girls would jump at the opportunity of being spoiled and pampered by a wealthy man, but I just found it kind of repulsive.

Rose swore that once I started this line of work, it would be impossible for me to stop. However, I swore that after a few good jobs, and having enough money to get out of this place that I would undoubtedly stop. It would be hard for me as a person to accept the constant compliments and pampering of some rich gentleman. But that was just it.

In this line of work, I would have to accept his compliments. I would have to accept his pampering. It was one of the many rules that Rose made clear to me. Yes, there was a plethora of rules to remember and abide by; all of which made me equally uncomfortable.

However, Rose made it clear that there were five rules in particular that were most important.

#1: "Don't forget to smile or fail to remember how attractive you are. The goal is to intrigue your male customer. Every imperfection is part of your perfection."

Rule #2: "Accept all gifts given as welcomed and with a smile. By virtue of them being wealthy, they have no problem in providing expensive gifts. In fact, they seek to do so." I have to admit this rule bothered me the most. I hated taking things for free. It just wasn't me. True, I did steal from easy men that found me attractive, but I still wasn't comfortable with it. I did prefer to work if I could. The thought of having to accept a man's constant spoiling without giving really anything in return bothered me. Well I guess they did get me as a companion, but it still didn't seem like enough. However, Rose pointed out, if I wasn't willing to accept them, I would really be defeating the whole definition and purpose of being a sugar baby companion.

Rule #3: "Keep your emotions in check." Part of me being a companion is to provide my customer with a drama-free, simple and fun experience. One of the main reasons sugar daddies seek companions is to help them take away their own stress of the day not add to it. Under no circumstances am I to become emotionally dependent upon my customers. After all it is a short-term relationship. This rule also still stands even if he should slip up and drop the "L" word bomb after one too many drinks, or he is just irresistibly good looking.

Rule #4: "Be careful about being too honest. Be a good judge about how honest you are with your customers." On the one hand, honesty can be good for return customers to know what they're paying for, but on the other hand it can scare away unconfident men. Be a good judge. Also, be careful not to provide too much information to prying customers. If they are interested, they will return for more. Which is the ultimate goal.

And rule #5: "Remember you ultimately control what happens with your body. Don't be afraid to say no, if it goes too far. However, take into consideration that you might lose your customer should you embarrass him in front of friends, business colleges', or other important guests."

These rules are to be followed and upheld at all times. Eventually I accepted them, but it took a long while for me to feel comfortable with the thought of actually doing them. I've yet to have a first customer, most of the time I simply watched and observed Rose. It wasn't like I couldn't do it, I was told over and over that I most certainly had the looks, but mentally it just wasn't me. Rose assured me that I wouldn't regret it, but I already knew I would.

It turned out that Rose had a very nice home. It wasn't at all like some crappy apartment that was half deteriorated and smelled of shame. It was neat, organized and had a welcoming atmosphere to it. It was nothing of what I expected a glorified prostitute to have. It surprised the living hell out of me. With five bedrooms, custom cherry cabinets, granite countertops, and glossy hardwood flooring throughout the main level, no one would guess that our type would live in such a place. Even my own bedroom was spacious; open and much to my liking, simple.

I was surprised I was even given my own room. It was agreed that it would be free of charge, until I started making good profits. Over the span of the three weeks of training, I was able to live in my new peaceful home while quickly learning the rules of my new occupation.

I was also able to acquire some help with my new wardrobe from Rose's good friend Alice, who was also in the line of business and lived with us. She was a witty happy little thing, who was in love with fashion. I told her many times that she should go into the fashion industry, but she was just as happy to use her skills to capture the hearts of wealthy men. She was very pretty, and full of confidence. With her short black hair, her dark capturing eyes and perfect form, she was everything I wasn't. At least in my opinion.

From the moment we met, she treated me like I was her new project. She took pride in educating me on the different outfits that brought out my skin tone and exaggerated my non-existent chest. I mean, I had one, but it wasn't anything like Rose's or even Alice's. They were perfect and they were much more graceful than me. Especially when it came to heels. While they glided and sauntered around like princesses I stumbled behind them too busy doing random gravity checks with the ground.

Heels were my ultimate downfall, literally. In my opinion, heels were evil. There was nothing good about them. They hurt my feet, made me even more clumsy than I already was, which was a hard thing to accomplish, and most of all it made it very difficult to go anywhere in a fast pace. They were overall just terrible.

The only reason I learned to stay up straight in them was because Rose made me wear them the entire time it took me to clean the house. Since I wasn't currently employed, my job and contribution to our team was to keep the house in clean working condition. Which wasn't a bad deal. It certainly beat living on the streets, and stealing people's nick-knacks for money.

Rose was a kind soul, but strict at the same time about my learning the rules of companionship. Which is why it was so nice to have Alice around, she was such a nice addition. She was kind as well, but very easy going, accepting, and most of all she understood my limitations a lot better than Rose. A lot better than most people actually. She just seem to get me. She too would monitor my sessions and make sure Rose wasn't too hard on me, or she would ask me if I felt comfortable about what I was learning. I was grateful for her kind imputes and patience with me.

The only thing left to do was make a profile on the internet. Which I was not looking forward to. I couldn't sell myself in person, what made them think I could do it over the internet?

Today was the day I would make my profile. When I pulled up the website, I silently wanted to vomit when I saw the sparkling pink letters of the website that read Sugar-Sugar. This was not me at all. Just suck it up Bella and do it. You need this job.

The site lit up with big bold pink letters that said 'Welcome to Sugar-Sugar. Please select what you are applying for' I moved the mouse to Sugary Companion. I want to die. I clicked it and sighed as another page of glitter appeared, 'Congratulations, you are one step closer to finding a sugar daddy.' And one step closer to shooting myself. I looked at the strew of questions that appeared on the screen. I felt like I was stripping in front of the world. I was literally just throwing everything about myself out there for anyone to see. After filling in my name, I moved onto the questions.

1. Please describe some of your qualities that you feel a sugar daddy would appreciate.

I heaved a sigh as I tried to think of qualities that would increase my chances of actually getting someone to apply to my page, but as I said before, I couldn't sell myself very well.

I heard soft footsteps and the jingling of expensive jewelry. I knew it was the fashion queen approaching. And sure enough, in burst a happy little Alice. "Hey Bella," Alice said leaning over my shoulder looking at the screen, "you still haven't filled that out yet? Rose is going to kill you."

"I'm filling it out now," I replied in an irritated tone.

"Better fill it out quick before she comes home. If she sees you haven't done it she'll probably do it for you. And believe me, you don't want her to fill out your profile." No I didn't. It was personal. I didn't want Rose putting things on there that just weren't me. I wanted to be a little honest. "But these questions, Alice, are ridiculous. I mean how am I supposed to know what a sugar daddy wants? They're all different right?"

Alice laughed a little as she skipped over to my closet and opened the doors, "Well, maybe in personality a little, but not in their wants. They're pretty much the same when it comes to their desires."

"Yeah, but what about me? What qualities can I offer?"

"Just put some good qualities about yourself," Alice said as she pulled out a few clothing items. "Like, flirty or adaptable or," she tipped her head up and rubbed her chin, "or daring," she said in an excited voice, "put that one on there."

"Alice, I want to maintain some shred of dignity."

"You asked for my help, and I'm giving it. Now just put it down." I sighed as I filled in the disgusting word. I also added adaptable and easy going. That was simple enough.

2. Is this your first time as a Sugar Companion? Yes or No.

I clicked yes.

3. Age: I typed in 20.

4. Are you willing to offer overnight company?

I had to think about this one. Was I? I mean nothing funny right? Just company? Really Bella? You think they're talking about sleep overs?

"Hey Alice, what did you put on your profile for overnight care?"

She was in the middle of inspecting some of the clothing she pulled from my closet and had laid on my bed when she looked up at me with a puzzled look. "Bella, do what you're comfortable with. You don't have to stay overnight. I put yes on mine, but then again I still always reserve the right to say yes or no involving my body. And so do you. Rule number five."

I rolled my eyes, as I looked back at the page and decided I would say yes for now. I mean she was right; I still had the right to choose who I would spend that night with.

"You should also know that not all overnight stays are physical, some are just for company." So some really did just want sleep overs. I nodded even though I had no intention of ever spending the night with anyone, if I could help it. He would have to be really worth it. And when I calculated the chances of that, it didn't seem too likely.

The next page blinked and sparkled in different colors of blue as it read, 'Congratulations! There are only a few more questions before you can begin your search for a Sugar Daddy.' I huffed in frustration. I didn't understand what the point of all the encouragement was for. It was like it was saying, 'Congratulations, you are one step closer to humiliating yourself professionally.'

5. Are you interested in a long-term or short term relationship? Or both?

I clicked short term.

6 Please fill in your physical appeal: This will be fun. Not.

Eyes: Brown

Breast Size: (Optional) Yeah not answering that!

Hair color/type: Brown, straight

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Height: 5'5

Weight: 115-125lbs

6: How about some other information that might better help your Sugar Daddy find you:

Location: Washington, Forks

Phone Number: (optional) Nope, not answering that

Email: (optional): Nope. I can use the website. I don't want to get some stalker with my information.

7. How about a little more about you: Tell your sugar daddy what you like: ie: Your hobbies:

Really? Haven't I answered this already? I tried to think of something interesting to say, but really I was just ordinary. I liked the simple things in life. Nothing really extravagant. So I went with my gut and filled in the things that brought me simple pleasure: reading, school, music, and if I could, traveling.

8. Before you complete your profile, is there anything else special you offer or would like to tell your Sugar Daddy?"

I sat there for a moment to think. I couldn't think of anything else. There was enough information on my profile to fuel a stalker. So I just typed in: the cliché, 'Choose me, I won't disappoint.' Before I clicked next, there was a small section that offered a place for a photo with a 90% chance of increasing my chances of snagging a Sugar Daddy.

Ah yes, Rose already had me take a picture for this part of the application. I clicked the browse button that took me to my pictures on my computer. I looked at the one Rose took of me sunning in a red bikini around the pool that was outback. I almost clicked it, but hesitated when I saw the picture that Alice took of me. It wasn't for the website, or anything special, she just took a picture of me for the sake of her wanting to take of picture of something. I was sitting in the shade on the porch in a pair of blue jean shorts and a black tank top with my hair down reading a book. It showed a complexly different, innocent side to me. That was the real me. Not this Hoochi-mama sitting up half naked around the pool. I looked like a primped poodle.

I know Rose would not agree, but again, I followed my gut and clicked on the innocent one. That was me.

Fireworks went off on the site as it read: 'Congratulations, you are now a registered Sugar Companion.' Great. Just great. Now, I can go die. Well at least Rose would get off my back now.

"Here," Alice said holding up a simple form fitting black dress of mine. I raised a brow.

"Yes, that's my dress." Alice shook her head at me.

"We're going out for drinks tonight. You, me and Rose." What? Drinks? No no no no no, I didn't like to do that. In fact, I hated it. "Don't shake your head at me, we're all going."

"Alice, you know I hate doing those things. And besides, I'm not old enough to drink."

"I know, that's why you're driving." Oh, that's even worse. Carting home two drunk skunks. Come on, can't I just sit at home and sulk about the heinous crime I just committed to my conscious? "Come on Bella, we haven't been out in a week." Wow, a whole week? That's a record for us. Not. It was nice having some down time without having to get dressed up.

"Alice we always go out."

"But tonight is special. I'm meeting someone, and as my friend I would like you to be there." She looked at me with those puffy puppy eyes. Ah, I hated when she used that look on me. It was virtually impossible to say anything besides yes to whatever she wanted. "Please Bella? For me?"

I sighed a heavy sigh as I minimized my profile on the computer, "Fine." She squealed as she rushed up and threw her arms around me. I smiled a little, it always paid off to make her happy.

"It's going to be so much fun tonight. And just think of it as hands on experience for when you meet your Sugar Daddy."

"Are you meeting a Sugar Daddy tonight?" I asked.

"No, he's not really a Sugar Daddy, but I do like him. We've been chatting for a while now. This is our first night face to face. Just treat it as experience Bella."

"Yeah right, that's if I get a Sugar Daddy. I wouldn't be surprised if my inbox was still empty in a month." Alice laughed as she set the black dress in my lap.

"I bet you'll have emails before the night is over. Now if you excuse me, I have a date to get ready for." She skipped out of my room in a merry way. Sometimes I thought Alice had too much faith in me. I wasn't anything special. I would be surprised if I had one reply. I mean I didn't even use the "sexy" picture Rose recommended to me. I used a dull one instead. But that was me.

Alice's date didn't exactly turn out how she expected. Actually he turned out to be a total self-absorbed jerk. Alex Janson. If I had a nickel for every time his eyes drifted to her chest I'd be a rich millionaire.

And how sad is it that he didn't even pay for the drinks? I really felt bad for Alice. She was so excited about this date. She has said he was the first person to like her for who she really was. She even bought a new dress for the jerk. During the whole date, if you could even call it that, Alice struggled not to be rude to the guy by calling quits. But I could see, even from a distance, she wanted out.

He wasn't at all who he proclaimed himself to be. He spent a good deal of the time glancing and winking at me, which was repulsing. How on earth could he sit there and look at me when he had a gorgeous woman right in front of him? Besides, even if I was interested in him, which I wasn't, I wouldn't have anything to do with him still. Alice was my friend, and he was just shitting all over her with his lack of manners and ability to look even once in her eyes.

Rose, however, didn't have the problem of false politeness. Once she'd had enough of watching poor Alice struggle to get away from the creepy ass-hole, she stood and told me she was going to end it. She didn't have a problem with breaking the man's confidence with harsh words. We ended up leaving the restaurant.

Instead we decided to go to Club Fuzion which was, thankfully, nearby. Rose and I agreed to buy the drinks for Alice. We both felt bad for her. And, even though she smiled and said she had no hard feelings, I knew she was hurt on the inside.

So my night was spent watching my two friends dance like deranged freaks and drink until they didn't even have the motor controls to pick up another glass. And I'll just say, it was a long drive home. The car was full of laughing and off tune singing to corny pop songs on the radio. I wondered if I could drive with one hand so I could use my other to cover one of my poor ears.

But I was not that confident in my driving skills.

After dropping the two very drunk girls off at their rooms, I finally had a chance to have a little time to myself after a night of constant alcohol and dancing. The first order of business was to take a shower. I smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, and sweat. Not a good combination. I ended up washing myself three times. It seemed impossible to get the grim from the club off. With men coming up and rubbing my back, while others were much bolder in showing their affection. I ended up slapping a few, which didn't have the effect I wanted it to have. They only seemed to come back for more. Although they seemed kind at first, they were more like lingering farts than gentlemen.

And the worst part was that I couldn't use alcohol to drown the dull evening since I was the designated driver. Technically, I legally couldn't drink, but Rose knew the manager so no questions would've have been asked if I had decided to order a drink.

I pulled on a pair of soft blue sweats and slipped into a thin black tank. Then I took my towel and wrapped it around my hair to dry the ends before I settled down in my bed, when I noticed a flashing light on my laptop. My brows furrowed as I walked over to my computer and clicked on the bar on the bottom of my screen. Up popped the "Sugar Sugar" website that I had been on before I left, holding a plethora of messages that sparkled with mini throbbing hearts.

What is this? How could this many people reply in just a short time?

I had to hand it to Alice for being right about having emails before the night was over. I swear she could foretell the future or something. It's a good thing I didn't bet any money on it. But honestly, what kind of people replied?

I was beyond tired from the night's events, but out of sheer curiosity I clicked on one of the throbbing hearts which read:

You've have received a love message from: Long Black Liquorish,

That's disgusting.

"Hey baby, I would love to have a little white sugar like you on my arm. We'll mix real nice if you know what I mean."

Yeah right. I don't think so. I deleted it and then looked down at the rest of the messages. I reasoned, I was already at the computer, and it wouldn't hurt to look at a few more. Maybe something interesting would catch my eye. I doubted it, but still I clicked next.

You have received a love message from: Ravisher:

I laughed a little. Really? What kind of people came up with these names?

"You sure do look like a sweet one. Mind if I test that theory out one of these nights? Or day? Whichever you prefer. Or maybe you want both... I don't mind. I pay generously."

Ugh, next.

You have received a love message from: Simply Me

"I'm the right one baby."

Next.

You have received a love message from: Introductions

"Seeking a passionate princess to pamper and spoil. Pay is negotiable."

Eww, he looks eighty. Yeah, I'm not and never will be your princess old man.

You have received a love message from: Pet Me

"Handsome, Classy, Gentleman is looking for someone just like you! Come sit on my leg. I got two. I already got one little sugar on my leg, so hurry up or your spot might be taken by another."

I hope someone does. Twosomes? I don't think so. That was not my thing. Ever. Never.

I went through six more emails, or love messages, that were of the same content. I was beginning to think that I should just hit delete to all of them and start over in the morning. This was disgusting. And I really didn't want these thoughts before going to sleep. Or images. Some actually took it upon themselves to send me vivid pictures. Those were pretty scary. It's a good thing it had been a few hours since I last ate, otherwise all contents in my stomach would have been on my keyboard.

For the heck of it, with my eyes half open, I clicked on my next and last heartthrob. I did have more messages, but I was pretty much over it tonight. I was tired of reading all the cliché pickup lines. It really made me feel cheap. I mean come on, I pay generously? It made me kind of sick to my stomach to be part of this website. But Rose insisted I have an account.

You have received a love message from: Explore Class

"Rare.And a little unusual. Your picture most certainly stood out compared to all the other half-naked women that litter the site, which tells a man right off the bat what kind of woman they are. Your picture and profile, however, has caught my special attention. I'm a little nervous that you are crippled in some way and that is why you chose not to dress provocatively. After all, this is a Sugar Daddy website. Not that I mind though. I like your modest take to it. It was refreshing to find. I probably shouldn't criticize or critique you though, since I have yet to upload a picture of myself.

I prefer a little more privacy.

To be honest, Isabella, I am looking for a companion; hence, the site. Nothing long term necessarily, but I would enjoy the company of a gorgeous, young woman such as yourself. Feel free to browse my profile; it should give you some general information about me. If you feel comfortable enough I hope you reply back.

You should know, also, that price does not matter to me. I am more than willing to accommodate any wants or needs you may have. That is to say, you will want for nothing as long as our relationship lasts. That's not meant to be taken in any offensive way, Isabella.

I hope I did not bore you with my long comment. I know the typical response is only a few sexual words, but I feel those are only for the one-night standers. I'm looking for a little more than a one night lay.

Sincerely yours,

Explore Class."

Good grief, you think he wrote enough? Although I had to admit, his message was certainly refreshing compared to all the junk I had been getting. Andhe was very honest, and mature. The other messages made me wonder if this site was full of a whole bunch of adolescent hormonal boys. His message rekindled my hopes for the male population.

I wondered what his profile held. I clicked on his User Id profile. The first section underlined with pink hearts:

About me: "I am a single business man seeking a respectful Sugar Companion. I have nice things and I tend to travel a lot. I enjoy the best of life luxuries and would like to share these joys with another. It is my desire to have a fine woman by my side to complete my image, and provide warm companionship to me. I am not necessarily looking for a long term relationship; but I would not mind one."

Specifications: Must be respectful. I do require that you are sophisticated and able to hold your own in conversation.

Sophisticated? Yeah right.

"I would prefer you be in shape, but healthy. I would also prefer a woman who is comfortable with touch. Being insecure and anxious about touching is a huge denial for any woman that may apply."

Touching? Well it depends on what he thinks touching all entails. Nothing funny. That's a huge denial for any man who applies to my profile. I'm not feeling too good about this one. He seems to have a lot of stipulations. Weird stipulations. Like dump-you-at-the-restaurant weird because you didn't place your napkin on your lap.

He didn't give any information about his location. In fact, most of his information was considered private unless asked for it to be revealed. Interesting how he did that. All my information was posted out front. But I guess that was because I was the applier. I was the one in search of a Sugar Daddy.

Hmmm, to reply or to not reply.

I guess it couldn't hurt to.

I mean what's the worst that could happen?

I looked down at the bottom of the page that said: "message this user" and hesitantly clicked on it. This really wasn't me. I mean, I didn't respond to these types of messages. I guess it was my pride that felt wounded that I had stooped so low just for money.

I looked at the little blinking typing line, waiting for me to write something. I couldn't think of what to say to him. It had to be something witty, but respectful, flirty, but not too over the top.

To: Mr. Class

From: Isabella

Dear Mr. Class,

You failed to give me your name so I shall refer to you as Mr. Class. I did not think your comment was too long. It was nice to see something more than a one-liner. I am glad you found my picture so interesting and I was able to capture your special attention. You caught mine as well. It was refreshing to actually read something other than cheesy pick- up lines that were used in high school.

I should happily let you know I am not crippled in any way, but I am just as you presumed, very modest.

I did look up your profile. And yes it was very, very general information. I would have preferred more. And I did notice you didn't have a picture, but I understand it was for privacy reasons. I feel we are similar in the fact that we both like our privacy. I am also flattered by your kind comments to my appearance. I would love to know what you look like to return the kindness. That is, if you trust me.

I noticed you mentioned that you're not looking for anything long-term. We too are similar in this regard. Let's not complicate things more than we have to. As for your money, and my wants for nothing, I would say you would have to know my wants in order to be able to pay them. Forgive me if that was too frank. Do you think me too opinionated?

And what's with the "must be able to be touched" thing? Is that truly a deal-breaker? I mean nothing funny I hope.

Once again, forgive me, I'm just curious and think we both should be honest about what the companionship will include. We both have needs. I simply need more information from you, since your profile classified much information from public eyes.

Call it innocent curiosity. No offense is meant to be given.

Yours,

Isabella.

And send.

I think I did well. I didn't flirt too much, and wasn't dishonest. I was pretty much myself. In fact, I was probably too honest. Deep down, I really didn't expect a reply back. 'I don't think I'm his type. And I don't think he's my type.'

He'll probably move on once he's read it because it offended him. He seemed like the type of man who was very anal about everything, and my outspokenness would only irritate him. But on the other hand, I refused to pretend to be his little miss bimbo who was clueless and had noopinions on anything. A woman who only said things to please others.

Well, at least it was good practice.

I closed my laptop, walked sleepily over to my messy bed and collapsed on it. Normally I made it before getting in, but tonight I was too tired. I never invited sleep more than at this moment.

Author Note:

So this is my new Story… Again.. I know I've been Experimenting with all this different ideas I have for Bella and Edward. And this story is just another one of them.

A special thanks to my New Betta who helped me in the editing.

And a special thanks to ALL my reviewers. Thanks so much. Please review. I love them so much.

Also…. I did some rewriting of chapter 1, so maybe go back and read that. There is a little more information about Bella's life.. and I had come correcting to do.