Page 30 of Billion Dollar Vow

She hisses. “Where are you going to get the money from?”

“I have an idea.” My gut knots as the words leave my mouth. Saying it out loud to her will make it real, and may turn it from a thought into an actual plan I might follow through with.

She snorts. “Selling an organ only works when you’re dead.”

I wrinkle my nose, even though she can’t see me. “Ew gross, Evelyn.”

“I’m serious. How else are you getting the money in a week?”

I hesitate, my throat tight. I gather my courage because this is the moment that once I say it, I can’t take it back.

“I could…” I start but then stop. “What if I…” I take a deep breath and finally push the words out. “Marry Oliver Lincoln.”

“Sorry, what?” she screeches so loudly, I have to pull the phone away from my ear.

Not exactly the response I was hoping for, but at least it’s not disapproval. The shock in her voice mirrors my own initial reaction to Oliver’s proposal. Bringing the phone back to my ear to talk, I continue, “He offered, and I told him no originally, but now I’m thinking about it.”

“Okay, rewind, and tell me everything.”

I do, and I find myself remembering Oliver’s kindness, respect, and strictly business demeanor about the arrangement. It sounds more reasonable and yet absurd the second time. Am I talking myself into this, or out of it?

Once she’s caught up, she sighs, and I brace myself for her reply. “I say do it. He’s so hot. There are worse things than pretending to be a billionaire’s fake wife.”

Her support sends a wave of relief through me. I’m not completely crazy for considering this.

“But what are the negatives?”

I have thought of my own…What if Warne finds out? What if he changes the terms? What if I meet someone I actually want to marry while I’m legally tied to him?

“You’d have to marry and live with an insanely hot guy. Possibly kiss and hold hands with him.”

There’s no chance of us kissing because he doesn’t like me that way, and I’m not going to try again.

I laugh. “I’d drive him nuts if we lived together.”

“It’s short-term,” she encourages.

“He said that. A few months, and then I could move out into my own house.” I can picture the sun beaming through the kitchen window, a garden I could maintain, and something permanent. Something that’s mine. The thought sends a flutter of longing through my chest that almost drowns out the anxiety about Oliver’s arrangement.

She hums. “Now that sounds good.”

I’m interrupted by the sound of another call coming through. I check the screen, and my heart lurches when I see his name.

“I gotta go, he's on the other line,” I rush out.

“Alright, see you later and you can fill me in.”

I hang up and answer his call.

“Karley?”

“Is that what you’d call me if I was your wife?” I ask, trying to sound playful, but there’s a quiver in my voice.

“You aren’t my wife.”

“But if I was?” I ask.

“I’d answer straight away.”

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