Page 25 of Faking It with the Off-Limits Doctor

“Well, now I know I’m going to live a little longer, I’ve got time.”

He snorts a chuckle and then nods. “Fine.”

I listen to a rather interesting, if not completely nuts story, of how Alex bought his new house just to secure a deal with some healthcare company. It has something to do with it being family-oriented, and the obvious truth that Alex doesn’t have one. A family, I mean.

In my wildest dreams, I could not have imagined what I hear coming out of his mouth, but then, I suppose billionaires really do live in different worlds. When he’s finally finished, he says. “So, you see, I need a wife. Or at least, someone who might potentially become my wife.”

“Wow,” is all I can manage.

And as I’ve listened to his story, my mind has gone over it and over it, and now, I can hardly believe the lengths he’s going to just to make more money.

“Let me get this straight. My mom and dad are building schools in Africa for kids who, for the most part, are orphaned or misplaced. While you, with all your wealth, buy houses to make yourself even wealthier.”

He sighs and drops his gaze.

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

Alex nods and says, “It is true.”

I shrug and shake my head. “Then I have to say no. If I had your kind of money, I’d be using it for good. That’s the problem with you selfish billionaires. You’re so far removed from the real world.”

He’s looking at me with a slightly amused expression, even though my words ought to be causing massive offense. I don’t understand it, but I don’t care. It needs to be said.

Cocking his head, he says, “So the only reason you won’t do it is because I spend my money selfishly. Is that what you’re saying?”

His tone is making me wary, as though I’ve missed a plot point somewhere. I’m a bit nervous to commit to my answer, but I’ve already thrown my hat in the ring. I can’t reach it to take it back out again, so I have no choice but to agree.

“Pretty much.”

“I see,” he says, calm as a lake on a still morning. “Do you know how I met your brother?”

I shake my head, pretending not to care. But, of course, I do care because I get a strange feeling I’ve messed up. “I know you were both in Ghana when you guys met.”

He nods. “We were. In fact, I was in Ghana because I had heard a wonderful story of sacrifice. A married couple had decided to sell everything they owned just so they could move out there and start up a humanitarian project to help children in desperate need.”

The ominous feeling gets worse.

“More to the point, I was compelled by their self-sacrifice and wanted to do something to help them.”

Oh, lord!

“It wasn’t enough that I could send them funding. This selfish billionaire wanted to go out and see the wonderful work these people were doing for himself. As it happened, I was extremely impressed, and after making a recurring donation that would ensure this wonderful couple could continue doing this amazing work for years to come, I also met Mark Gilbert, the son of said couple.”

My mouth has now fallen open, and I realize that there is nothing that could have prepared me for how deeply in the do-do I am. Trying to back pedal and somehow save myself from drowning in it, I say, “Mom and Dad never mentioned it.”

“No, they wouldn’t. I prefer to remain an anonymous donor. You know how we selfish billionaires are with the limelight,” he says dryly, the corner of his mouth twitching smugly.

“Right,” I say, feeling the fire of humiliation crawling up my neck and devouring my face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

“Sure. Course it is.”

One of those awful silences resumes, and I have no words. Mainly because I’ve just made the biggest idiot out of myself ever. My pious self-righteousness has just bitten me in my posterior, and now all I can do is feel mortified. Which seems to be something of a habit around here.

It all makes perfect sense. Mark takes care of the online presence of Mom and Dad’s project. It’s his job to run the website, write posts and reels for social media accounts, rally up sponsorship, and of course, deal with the funding!

They’re not just best friends. They also share a common goal and interest.

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