Page 5 of The Billionaire's Proposal

I wouldn’t mind seeing those eyes in real life. He had them hidden on the fishing tour, but now that I see his eyes, I can’t seem to stop looking at him online. Half of the time, I seethe; the other half, I wonder if the rest of his body is as ripped as his forearms.

Do I want to give him a big fuck you for not listening to me and then siccing his company lawyers on me? Absolutely.

I click on the form to fill out.

Name: Cameron

Age: 28

Occupation: Self-employed

Dear Mr. Worthington,

Thank you for taking the time to read my letter. As an entrepreneur myself, I understand how valuable your time must be, so I’m going to make this short.

Over the last six years, I’ve built a business that is not only my livelihood but also a tie to my past.

Recently, I uploaded a video to my website of one of my clients in an effort to prepare people for the experience I provide. Unfortunately, within a few days, I received a letter from his attorneys demanding that I take it down, or they will bury me in legal fees. I’m already out three thousand dollars for my own lawyer. I realize that’s probably one night’s dinner for a man like you, but for a hardworking, blue-collar woman like me, three thousand dollars is my savings—it’s my emergency fund and all I have.

The jerk agreed to my terms and conditions when he booked my company. I’m at a loss and would appreciate your help. I’ll be happy to meet you for coffee after my morning yoga routine. Don’t worry about paying for a thousand-calorie coffee; I like it stiff as it comes.

I hope to make it in your top five. I know you’ll find the full story interesting.

Sincerely,

Cameron

If he actually reads the letters, he’s going to notice I left out the word “as” in “I like it as stiff as it comes.” I crack myself up sometimes. He’ll think sexually like any guy, but it could be an innocent mistake. It’s not; I’m going to fry him and his company on national television.

Chapter Four

WINSLOW

Pamela delivers twenty letters to me. Each is printed with highlights and notes written in the margins. I slap the stack against my desk.

She stands in front of my desk with her fingers lightly tapping against a pile of folders. “Maybe it will be fun. It’s been a long time since you’ve been out with anyone outside our circle.”

“I’m not asking anyone on a date.”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant. You’ve buried yourself in making Triple W successful… growing it to a worldwide company. It’s all you’ve cared about since we lost Phoebe.” Pam’s eyes fill with tears, and I feel like shit that people who loved her just as much as I, have had to hold me together. “It will be good for you to talk to people who have problems other than stock prices and which fancy restaurant to frequent. Who knows, maybe you’ll find happiness again.”

This time, I don’t snap or freak out as I temper my response to the notion of me being happy in my personal life. “Thanks. I’ll read them and let you know.”

She comes around the desk and lays a palm on my shoulder, squeezing. “We all loved her, you know.”

“I know.” I expel my breath and place my hands behind my head. Sometimes I forget that Pamela knew Phoebe before I did. And that my brothers and sister thought of her as their family too.

Lost in thought, I don’t see Pamela slip out the door. Pinching my nose, I shake my thoughts and stare at the pile of papers.

The first letter doesn’t ring true, and the second isn’t much better.

The third one is from a female computer programmer, a.k.a., hacker explaining that she’s made mistakes but all for a good cause.

I place it in the maybe pile. It has the elements of a good story—Robinhood like, doing the wrong thing for the right reasons.

I put three more in the NO pile before I come up on a woman with a legal problem. It doesn’t reference anything sad, and she has a sense of humor. I like the idea of solving a problem for her, so it goes in the maybe pile.

When I read the last letter, I know this woman is a definite yes. Margie is a truck driver and judging by the words she uses, seems older and less likely to want a date.

---