Candy King Read online

  Her eyes widened. “No. That’s not something I’d ever do.”

  “Hard for me to know that. We’re strangers.”

  “Who’ve gotten off together.” She chuckled. “Virtually.”

  “There’s that.”

  She put the Mace back into her purse and pulled out her phone. “I did have a question for you.”

  They were only a few minutes from his home now. Soon his little adventure with his Sugar Tart would be over. “What’s that?”

  “Once I learned who you were, I did some more digging. To get some additional background. I found an interview with you from quite a few years ago. I think you might have just graduated from university.” She held out her phone, and Dylan knew precisely which interview it was, just by the picture—and the headline: toronto billionaire bachelor back on the market.

  “There’s a quote there from you. While relationships are wonderful, they’re not for me. I’m publicly declaring that I’m a bachelor for life.”

  He’d just broken up with his long-term girlfriend, Andrea. They’d dated all through university, and for a brief period of time, he’d believed that maybe, just maybe, he would be different from the rest of his family. That he’d be able to get past the relationship cloud that seemed to engulf everyone. As much as he loved Andrea, her vision of what their lives together had been was so vastly different from his, it was becoming more and more difficult to reconcile those two views. So they’d parted ways amicably, and he’d sworn off all relationships beyond sex from that point on.

  She reached out to touch his knee. “You okay?”

  How he’d managed to forget about Simone, Dylan wasn’t sure. “I’m fine. What do you want to know?”

  “Is this the catalyst for you starting the sugar daddy site? The timing lines up with the site’s launch six months later.”

  God, he hadn’t given Andrea or their turbulent relationship much thought in recent years. “I assume we’re on the record.”

  “We are. But I can take this off if you want.” She cocked her head to the side and gave him a look that told him she truly wanted to make him feel comfortable. “Right now, we’re just getting to know one another.”

  While Dylan might not be into the whole relationship thing, he did love women, exceptionally competent ones. Clearing his throat, he turned to look at the passing Toronto streetscape.

  “Off the record, yeah. That was part of the reason.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  “Why do you care so much about doing a story on me and my site?” There was something about her that was relentless. If Dylan agreed to do this, he knew there was no way Simone would back down if she caught the scent of something he didn’t want to talk about.

  Simone sat back with a groan. “Two reasons. First, my editor hasn’t been willing to give me a fair shot at the paper. He keeps putting me on local food stories, community festivals, and student sports events. Which are important, and I love doing them, but I want more. Being able to run a story on a site that’s putting Toronto’s rich in touch with financially strapped students and the love stories that are coming as a result? That would take my career to the next level.”

  Interesting. She was ambitious and thought his little company was the way to make her mark. That was a first for him. “What’s the second reason?”

  “My friend is one of your clients—” She smiled. “Kayla is engaged now, and they’re so happy. So are Vince Taylor and his wife, Marissa. Those are two that I know personally. I’ve also reached out to some students on a few different campuses around the city. While not everyone is getting married, more than a few of them have found themselves in stable relationships. I don’t know what it is about your site, but relationships rather than hookups are far more common there than on any other sugar daddy site I’ve investigated. I want to know why.”

  Halfway through her explanation, Dylan turned to stare at her, completely shocked by what she was saying. The last thing he’d ever intended was for his hookup site to result in marriages. Sure, odds were one or two might work into something long-term, but not whatever it was she was implying. “How many people have you talked to?”

  Her smirk was back now that she knew she had his attention. “I was able to interview twenty women and three guys who have signed up for millionairesugardaddy.com. Over half of them considered themselves now involved in a romantic relationship with their sugar daddy.”

  Dylan’s mind screeched to a halt. “You said Kayla? As in Kayla Arnold, founder of Fashion Finds?”

  “Yup. She’s my very best friend in the whole wide world. And she’s getting married to an awesome guy who—” She snapped her mouth shut. “Not my story to tell. Regardless, she used your site, and it made her happy. I want to let all of Toronto know exactly what they have out there. Not just the whole financial aspect of students not being able to afford to live while they go to school, but also that having a sugar daddy doesn’t have to be about sex.”

  God, this was utterly fucked up. “It’s nothing more than a hookup site.”

  “It really isn’t.”

  “I…” How the hell could he explain to her how much he hated even the concept of being in a relationship, how they were all doomed to failure? How could he do that and not out himself, put his and his family’s reputations in danger of being destroyed? “The Candy King has his reasons for keeping his identity a secret. Being a part of an interview would cause me a lot of problems.”

  Simone tapped her fingers along the side of the Mace can. “How about this. Let me follow you around your daily life; you can tell people that I’m simply doing a story on you and your family in your day job. I mean, that’s been a thing before, yes?”

  “It has. Though I’ve never had anyone follow me around.” It wouldn’t necessarily be a hardship having her with him for hours on end, but the practical problems might be more than he could anticipate.

  “I’ll follow you, and you can tell me why you created the site. What drove you to want to run a business like this, and what makes this sugar daddy site so different from all the rest. I’ll write the article, and you can read the whole thing before I submit it to the paper. I’ll promise you complete veto power over the article. If you don’t like something I’ve said, if you don’t like how I’ve portrayed you, then I’ll bury the story.”

  This was such a horrible idea, he couldn’t even fathom why he was entertaining the thought of the interview. You’re thinking with your dick again, asshole. “And if I tell you to pull the story and you don’t, my reputation could be impacted.”

  She reached out and patted his knee. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

  “I don’t think anyone could hide from you.” The limo turned the corner, and he saw that his place was just up ahead. “Let me think about it.”

  By the time the limo came to a stop, she was visibly shaking with excitement. “You won’t regret this.”

  “I haven’t said yes yet.” He opened the door, turned, and braced his arms on the car to look down at her. “I might not.”

  “You will.” She let out a happy squeal. “Thank you! I’ll get in touch with your assistant to book an appointment.”

  “Did I miss where I said yes to this?” Had he?

  Simone slid across the seat closer to him, forcing herself to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “Tell me if I’m wrong. I can tell that you’re unhappy. I don’t know why, but you are. There’s something about this site that’s become your way to rebel against what people’s expectations of you are. Whether it’s because your family is well established, or because of your money, or maybe people are pressuring you to get married or something. I don’t know. What I do know is that there’s a part of you that wants to tell this story. Wants the world to know that you’re not what people expect. I’m giving you that chance.”

  Dylan’s mouth had all but
dried up by the end of her speech. She was right in ways that he hadn’t fully vocalized to himself. Shit, he really was going to let her do this.

  “Where do you want the driver to take you?”

  “Just back to where we came from is fine. I’ll make my way home from there.” She wiggled back against the seat. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Candy King.”

  “Good night, Sugar Tart.” Dylan shut the door and shuddered.

  What the hell was he getting himself into?

  Chapter 7

  Simone hadn’t been able to sleep more than a few hours last night. Her mind kept going over her limo ride with Dylan, and this interview process wasn’t going exactly the way she’d anticipated. Not to mention that she didn’t have a clue what questions she wanted to ask Dylan this morning, what the best approach to today’s interview would be, or whether it should be an interview at all.

  Now that they’d met and she’d come face-to-face with her Candy King, Simone wasn’t sure if she should go through with this at all.

  While she’d been excited about stories in the past, this time she knew things were different. She’d never taken the time or the personal interest in one of her story subjects like this before. And to make matters even more complicated, there was something about Dylan that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He didn’t exactly lack in confidence or bravado, but when she’d pulled out the article declaring him a bachelor for life, something in his facial expression changed.

  She’d seen that look before, more than a few times. Kayla used to look that way whenever Simone would come over and try to convince her to do something fun. She’d been so lonely, and that was the main reason Simone had encouraged her to sign up for the sugar daddy site to begin with.

  So why would Dylan, the man who owned and operated that very same site, have the same aura of loneliness? It wasn’t as though he didn’t use the site, that he didn’t hook up with women when he wanted to. For a man who apparently had no desire to be in a long-term relationship, it seemed weird for him to be lonely.

  Or maybe she was projecting. That was a thing she did from time to time.

  No, it was better to ignore the seriously sexy Dylan and do what she came to do—interview the Candy King for a profile on him and his less-than-conventional business.

  While she lay in bed last night, she’d finally been able to move past wanting to merely prove to Carl that she could do this. She realized that she had a real shot at creating something big, something different. The opportunity to stretch people’s minds, to make them understand that sex and relationships were more than what general society deemed essential or normal. This profile would finally give her the recognition she craved, but it would speak to something bigger than herself.

  She knew the end result would be something she’d be proud of.

  Something her dad would be proud of too.

  It had been a long time since she’d talked to him, which was mostly self-preservation on her part rather than anything he’d done recently. As far as she knew, he was back on his meds, going to his therapy sessions, and doing well. Her mom still kept tabs on him, even though they were no longer together. She loved him; she just couldn’t live with him anymore, which Simone totally understood. While she wanted him to be proud of her, wanted him to have a positive story he could tell his friends, she suspected that there might be a part of him that would be jealous of her accomplishments.

  She’d made it as a reporter when he hadn’t.

  “Enough of that.” Her eyes snapped up to those of the Uber driver’s in the rearview mirror when she realized she’d said the words aloud. “Sorry.”

  “Nervous?”

  “Yeah. I have an interview today. I’m not sure how it’s going to go.”

  “New jobs are always stressful. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

  Simone didn’t bother to correct him, taking the encouragement in the spirit with which it was intended. “Thank you. I hope so.”

  “I was always told to picture people naked, but that always made things worse for me. I would get distracted.” He then winked at her, and Simone had to force her smile to stay in place.

  “Never a good thing.” Please let the stop be soon.

  Thankfully, traffic moved quickly, and before she had to go in search of her Mace, the car pulled into the industrial park and stopped in front of a building. “Here you go.”

  This didn’t exactly look like the sort of place a billionaire would work, but then again Dylan Williams wasn’t exactly a typical billionaire. There were plenty of expensive-looking foreign cars mixed in with the domestics, so someone financially well-off was inside. She said her good-byes and got out of the car. Her palms were damp as she clung to her purse strap. She hadn’t had any luck getting the stain out, but she wasn’t going to meet Dylan without it. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about explaining what had happened. Squashing her nerves as best she could, Simone pulled her shoulders back and went into the building.

  The interior was as far removed from the exterior as Simone could have imagined. Instead of the standard warehouse look and feel that was typical of buildings in an industrial park, the inside of Williams Development was nearly spa-like. There was a huge water feature behind the stone desk at which the receptionist sat. There wasn’t a sound coming from it, but the perpetual flow of water was hypotonic. So much so that Simone hadn’t heard what the woman had said as she’d gotten close. “Sorry?”

  The woman’s black hair was pulled tight into a ponytail, leaving her with an open expression that relayed her amusement. “It’s the most calming thing in the world.”

  “I would never leave my apartment if I had it there.”

  “I have to be careful. When I’m having a bad day, I’ll just turn and stare at it, which isn’t the best look when someone comes in.” Her smile made her eyes sparkle. “What I asked was, did you have an appointment with someone today?”

  “Ah yes. I’m Simone Leblanc. I’m here to see Dylan Williams.”

  “Is Mr. Williams expecting you?” The woman frowned. “He didn’t mention anything to me when he came in, and I don’t see your name on the calendar.”

  “We ran into each other last evening, and Mr. Williams was gracious enough to say he’d meet me to discuss the possibility of an interview.” Not exactly a lie. The last thing she wanted to do was screw things up by saying too much to the wrong person before she’d even had a chance to sit down and talk to him properly.

  “I’ll let him know you’re here.” She smiled at Simone, though the look in her eyes wasn’t exactly one of amusement. No doubt, Simone wasn’t the first person to try and get an interview without an appointment.

  It didn’t matter if the receptionist believed her or not, Simone simply wanted her interview with Dylan, wanted to discover what kind of man he really was and what made the site so special, and then move on to bigger and better things. No more school fun fairs for her! No, she’d be down at city hall trying to determine if the proposed casino on the waterfront was a hoax or if they were really moving forward with the investment.

  “Ms. Leblanc.”

  Simone jumped at the sound of Dylan’s deep voice, her hands squeezing the strap of her purse a bit tighter than they had a moment before. God, he really was fucking gorgeous. “Yes, hi. That’s me.”

  He shook his head and waved her closer. “If you’ll follow me, we can talk in my office.”

  Okay, here we go. For real.

  The office was the complete opposite of the lobby, devoid of any opulence, including mesmerizing waterfalls. Books lined tall shelves, photos of Williams and other men and women at parties and official building openings filling the blank spots. She paused to lean in and look at one. “Oh my God, is that Rob Ford? Shit, tell me you didn’t vote for him.” All the respect she had for Dylan would be gone in a flash if he was part of Ford Nation.


  “It is, and no, I didn’t.”

  “Why do you have a picture of him here then?”

  Williams stepped beside her and looked at the photo. “It was an opening ceremony for one of our buildings, and he was mayor. My dad is also there, as are some of our major investors. Whether or not I agree with their politics, our accomplishment isn’t any less important. The people involved are more important than one man and what he did or didn’t do.”

  Simone might not agree, but then again, she wasn’t a Toronto building developer. “Well then, I guess we should get down to business.”

  The scent of his aftershave washed over her as he turned and moved to one of the two seats opposite the sizable black desk that took up a large part of the back wall. “Have a seat, Ms. Leblanc.”

  “Oh, you can call me Simone.”

  “Then it’s Dylan.” He pulled out her chair, and she sat down, acutely aware of the weight of his gaze on the back of her head. Something had changed between last night and this morning, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. His tone of voice lacked the teasing notes that he’d had in the limo. “You want to know why I started the site.”

  “I do. I mean, you’re a successful, rich man who could have any man or woman he wanted with a simple snap of the fingers. Why would someone like you want to start a site like that?”

  “You saw the newspaper article.” Dylan took the seat opposite her, tugging up his dress pants as he did. “Because I don’t believe in love.”

  Simone had her pen poised just above her notepad, ready to make notes, but the moment he spoke, she apparently lost the ability to write. She frowned and leaned forward. “Pardon?”

  “I don’t think it’s that difficult a concept. I don’t believe in love. I think the single population deserves a place where they can meet, hook up, exchange money for time or sex or whatever else two consenting adults can agree upon. I don’t think people should be wasting their time and money getting married when they’re probably going to get divorced.”