Chapter 5: Date For Hire
Eliana Maxine
"So?" Cassie prompted, popping another strawberry into her mouth. "Are you gonna tell us where all this money came from, or do we have to torture it out of you?"
Gladz nodded, her brows raised in curiosity. "Yeah, are we talking legal money, or are you making shady deals on the side?"
Cassie leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Is it drugs? Did you finally start that underground empire we always joked about? Be honest."
Mica groaned, rolling her eyes. "You wish."
Cassie smirked. "A little."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Mica."
She sighed, grabbing another grape from the fruit tray and tossing it into her mouth like this was no big deal. "Fine. But if I tell you, you guys have to promise not to freak out."
Cassie gasped dramatically, clutching my arm. "Oh my God. It is a sugar daddy."
Mica didn't even hesitate—she grabbed the nearest throw pillow and smacked Cassie with it.
Cassie yelped, laughing. "Alright! Chill! Just spill already!"
Mica sighed dramatically, her eyes shifting between the three of us, as if deciding whether to tell us or not. "Alright. I'll tell you."
We all leaned in. Anticipation buzzed in the air like static. Mica studied our faces, her lips twitching—then she suddenly burst into a fit of laughter.
Cassie groaned. "Ugh! Seriously? You're the worst! Just say it!"
Mica wiped at her eyes, chuckling as she took a deep breath. "Okay, okay. I landed a new job. A really good one."
I raised a brow. "A job? Since when do part-time gigs come with Dior bags?"
Gladz nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Mica. What kind of job pays that well?"
She shrugged nonchalantly, reaching for another grape. "It's a… date-for-hire kind of thing."
Silence fell over the room.
I blinked. "A what now?"
Cassie froze mid-bite, cookie halfway to her mouth. "Excuse me?"
Mica leaned back against the couch, completely unbothered. "It's exactly what it sounds like."
"You get paid to go on dates?" I asked, trying to make sure I was hearing this right.
"Pretty much," she said with a smug little smirk.
Cassie gasped like she'd just been handed a script from one of those trashy dramas she loved. "Oh my God. I knew it. Mica does have a sugar daddy."
Mica groaned, grabbing another throw pillow and hurling it at her. "It's not a sugar daddy thing, dumbass. It's just… professional dating."
Gladz raised a skeptical brow. "That sounds suspiciously like escorting."
Mica rolled her eyes. "It's not. I just go on dates with rich guys who need arm candy for events or business dinners. It's all strictly platonic."
I stared at her, trying to wrap my head around it, my stomach twisting uneasily. "And people actually pay you for this?"
She flashed a smug smile. "Rich people pay for everything."
Cassie's jaw dropped. "Girl, why are we working normal jobs when this exists?"
Gladz snorted. "Because some of us actually have morals."
Mica shot her a look. "Oh, please. If a billionaire offered you five grand to have dinner with him, you'd at least think about it."
Gladz paused. "…Fair point."
I wasn't convinced. There was something about all this that didn't sit right with me. Sure, Mica was always bold and reckless. She's a risk-taker, the kind of girl who jumped into things headfirst without thinking them through. She had always been like that—confident, fearless, and unapologetic. She thrived on adventure and spontaneity, but this? This was a whole new level. And the fact that she was brushing it off like it was nothing only made me more uneasy.
"So… how does this even work? Do they find you online? Is there, like, an agency or something?" Cassie asked, her curiosity piqued.
Mica nodded. "Yeah, actually. It's a legit business. Think of it as high-end matchmaking but without the commitment. People hire dates for social events, fancy dinners, even family gatherings, you name it. Some guys just don't want to show up alone."
Cassie leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "And you get paid just to sit there and look pretty?"
Mica grinned. "Pretty much."
Cassie clutched her heart dramatically, completely awestruck. "Mica. Bestie. You are literally living my dream."
Gladz scoffed. "Of course you'd say that."
Cassie ignored her. "Okay, but for real, how much do you actually make?"
Mica smirked smugly, crossing her arms. "Depends on the client. Some pay a couple hundred for a simple dinner. Others?" she leaned in, dropping her voice. "Let's just say I've walked away from a single night with enough money to cover rent for a year."
Cassie's jaw dropped. "What the—Mica!"
Even Gladz's eyes went wide. "That much? Just for a single date?"
Mica nodded, grinning. "Yup."
"That still sounds risky," I said, frowning. "Are you sure it's safe? What if the guy turns out to be a creep?"
"Yeah. Like, what if a client gets the wrong idea?" Gladz added, her expression serious now.
Mica waved us off like we were being dramatic. "That's what contracts are for. Everything is clearly laid out before the date even happens. Clients sign agreements with specific terms, and I make sure everything is clear before I meet them."
I crossed my arms. "And what exactly are these 'specific terms'?"
Mica sighed but answered anyway. "No touching without permission. No personal information exchange unless I'm comfortable. No weird or overly intimate requests. It's all strictly professional."
"But how do you know the guys won't try anything?" Gladz asked, still looked doubtful.
"I do my research," Mica said with a shrug. "Plus, most of my clients are rich businessmen who need a date for events, business dinners, or even just to make an ex jealous. They don't want drama any more than I do. They just want someone to play the part for a night."
"But what if some guy decides your little contract doesn't matter?" I pointed out, still skeptical.
Mica rolled her eyes. "Guys, I get it, okay? But I've been doing this for months, and nothing bad has happened. Besides, I have a backup plan in place—emergency contacts, a tracking app, and even a signal phrase if I ever feel unsafe. We even have an exclusive bodyguard stationed nearby. I'm not walking into this blind."
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "And it's not like I'm doing this forever. Just a few gigs, and I'm set for the summer."
The room went quiet again. We all looked at each other, silently debating whether it was worth arguing. But we knew how Mica was. Once her mind was made up, there was no changing it.
"Well," Cassie finally said, breaking the silence. "as long as you're safe. But I still think being a sugar baby would be better than this."
The tension broke like a bubble, and we all burst into laughter.
Mica wiped fake tears from her eyes. "God, you're impossible, Cassie."
Cassie grinned. "Just saying. Less work, more benefits. I mean, think about it. You'd get spoiled, taken on trips—maybe even get a Birkin."
Gladz rolled her eyes. "And that's the part that appeals to you the most, isn't it?"
Cassie flipped her hair. "Obviously."
I shook my head, half exasperated, half amused. "You guys are unreal."