Page 11 of The Billionaire's Proposal

The camera pans to Mr. Worthington with his eyes wide, seeming surprised by this revelation.

“And then what happened?” His voice is laced with sincerity and concern.

“The doctors drew blood, pumped my stomach, and told my parents all the drugs that were in my system. The cops came and charged me with selling and distributing drugs to minors.”

Mr. Worthington is shocked. “Were you?”

She gazes at her feet hanging off the edge of the brick wall. “Yes,” she says in a whisper.

Mr. Worthington puts his arm around the shoulders of the girl who looks to be in her very early twenties. “How long have you been clean?”

She smiles. “Four years.”

“In your letter, you said you needed money to pay off your parents’ loans. What are the loans for?”

“I was a juvenile when it happened. The justice system said if I went to rehab, then I wouldn’t have to go to jail. So, my parents took out loans from the banks and used credit cards to send me to rehab. $250,000.”

He sighs. “You know, not every parent would do that. They must love you very much.”

She nods as she wipes a tear away. “They do. I can’t repay the hurt I’ve caused them, but I work every day to repay their debts.”

“I feel like demolishing a thing or two. You ready?” he asks.

He lifts her up by the hand, and the video shows them scraping up tile and hanging drywall, then it cuts to a commercial. When they come back, they’re eating dinner at her favorite chain restaurant when he offers her a million dollars or if she wants to risk one million for a fifty percent chance at ten million.

Her lips twist, and she chews on her bottom lip before finally answering, “I owe it to my parents to pay them back. I’ve hurt their credit, and they haven’t been able to take any vacations or buy new furniture… all because of me.”

“So, you’ll stick with one million?”

“Yes.” She nods, a tear streaming down her face.

“Something tells me you’re going to turn the rest of the money into millions. I’m incredibly inspired by you and your loyalty to your family.” He hands her a check and pulls her into a hug.

It’s becoming clear that he is kindhearted, so what do I have to do to get hugged by this gorgeous man? Maybe not embarrass him.

The anchorwoman says, “Don’t go away. Winslow Worthington may have met his match.”

Has he fallen in love with this young girl in a day? I pull a lightweight throw over me as I wait in anticipation. When the news fades back from a commercial, it’s not her on the television. It’s me, giving my best evil eye, as I yell at Mr. Worthington about how he signed a contract. At the time, I didn’t realize how his chest was rising and how his eyes turned dark when he asks if it’s shakedown.

“Stay tuned for this developing story.”

Developing?

Chapter Eight

WINSLOW

Margie seemed to have all the answers with six shots of tequila in me, but as I approach the boat at Big O Excursions, I doubt her wisdom. First, she talked me into letting my company air a piece of the footage with Cameron. It made me look like an ass, and Cameron didn’t fare too much better. About half of the emailers say she’s a gold digger, trying to trap me into giving her money regardless of whether I offer her a million. And the other half wonder why in the world I would try to sue her over something so miniscule.

Now, she has me surprising Cameron on her own boat.

I take a breath and ask, “Orlando, is Cameron around?”

“What do you want from her? Haven’t you done enough? Your company isn’t just threatening her, they’re threatening me from making money and doing what I love.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll work it out, but I need to speak with Cameron. Do you mind if I wait for her?”

His chin drops to his chest. “She may kill me for letting you on her boat, but Mr. Worthington, the captain will be here any moment. If she asks you to leave, then you’ll need to respect her decision.”

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