Page 94 of Grumpy Billionaire Seeking Wife

"Hey, pull over," I say.

He frowns at me, and I nod to the car.

“That's my sister's car."

He stops, and I look back. I can see that she's crying into the steering wheel.

"Can you wait for me a second?" I ask him.

"What are you going to do?" He looks nervous.

"I'm going to see if she's okay," I say, as I open the door. "Don't come with me," I say quickly, just in case he decides to get out. "I want to speak to her alone."

"Okay. But if you don't come back in ten or fifteen minutes, I am going to come check on you, okay?"

"Okay." I nod. I step out of my vehicle and walk over to my sister's car and knock on the window. She looks up abruptly. Her eyes are bloodshot, her cheeks splotchy.

"Hey, sorry," she says, winding down the window.

The inside of the car is completely trashed, with plastic bottles and empty fast food packages everywhere.

"Am I in front of your house?" she says, blinking. She grabs her sleeve and wipes her nose. "Sorry, I don't have a tissue."

"It's okay," I say. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. I just, you know. It's that time of the month. You know…"

She gives me a wide smile, and I realize that she's faking it. She has the same eyes as I do, our dad's eyes.

"Hey, I saw what happened back there."

"Sorry. What are you talking about? Are you spying on me? Who are you?" Her eyes narrow. She looks me up and down.

"My name's Sabrina," I say. "Sabrina Fillmore."

She blinks and shrugs. "Should I know you? Are you an actress?"

"Bless your heart," I say, interrupting her, laughing slightly. "I'm not an actress. Furthest thing from it, even though the guy in the car ahead of us would tell you that I'm an Oscar-worthy performer, but I'm not."

"Sorry. What are you talking about?"

"I'm pretending to be his fiancée because I kind of wrote an ad that got him a bunch of women that he didn't want, so now I'm pretending to be his fiancée, showing the world that I'm in love with him so that the women will back off. He thinks I'm faking it, but I'm not because I actually do love him and—" I pause. “I’m making no sense, am I?"

"No, you're not. Look, if this is your house, I'll leave."

"Sorry. I'm not crazy. I'm really not," I sigh. "This is going to be weird because, I guess my dad changed his name, but I'm Sabrina Fillmore. I am Richard Fillmore's daughter."

"Okay, and?” She shakes her head. "What does that mean to me?"

"I think we have the same dad."

"What? No. Are you crazy? My dad's name is not Richard Fillmore. It's…" She pauses for a second. "I mean…" She looks at me for a couple of seconds. "His name is David. David Richard Moore." She blinks. "But no, there's no way. He doesn't have any other kids. He?—"

"Look at my eyes,” I say, opening them wide. "Look familiar?

She licks her lips nervously.

“You are my sister?"

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