Page 57 of Grumpy Billionaire Seeking Wife

"He's got to go," I say, reaching over and hanging up the phone.

"Oh, now you want to hang up the phone," Wes says. "What am I going to do, Sabrina?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry. Change your number."

I can't change my number," he says, shaking his head. "This is not only my business number, but it’s also my personal number that my friends and family and top clients call," he says. "You're going to have to take care of this for me."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"You're going to have to become my personal assistant and answer the phone for me."

"But... What?"

He stares at me. "I mean, that's the only thing we can do. You're going to have to stay with me and answer the phone twenty-four seven until this dies down. When it's someone I want to talk to, business-related, you'll hand it to me. And when it's someone I don't want to talk to, you'll tell them that the position is no longer open."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean you'll tell them I'm engaged."

"But you're not engaged."

"I'm not, but I'm also not looking for a wife."

"So you want me to lie?"

"Well, you lied when you put the poster up in the first place." He looks at me considerably. "So, what do you say?"

"I cannot be with you twenty-four seven, Wes. I have school and a job. And speaking of jobs, I need to..."

"Sabrina, you're not understanding the severity of the situation." His phone starts ringing again. "I've got another call, again. They're coming in fast and furious. I have fifteen voicemails. I'm not listening to each one of them to see if they're important. You're going to have to take care of that."

I feel really bad, but I don't know what to do. "But, Wes, I really cannot do this full-time."

"How many more finals do you have?" he asks.

"I have two exams and then a paper and..."

"You'll have to work on them at my place."

"What?"

"You'll have to work on your papers and study for finals at my place," he says.

"But..."

"But nothing. You will work for me, answering the phone, until this dies down. You owe me, Sabrina.”

“I don’t...” I pause. “Okay, so maybe I kind of owe you, and I feel really bad, but can't you just hire someone who would actually want this sort of job? I don't. I don't want to live with you. I don't want to answer your phone."

" I guess I'll pay you, Sabrina."

"I'm not taking money for this, Wes. I'm sorry, but..."

"But what?"

"I have another job anyway. I can't do it."

"Don't you only work two days a week?"

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