Page 26 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
At last she reaches the end, scrawls her signature with a quick flick of her finger, and hands the phone back to me.
"All right, now… what is this about?"
"I want you to take on a role for the next six months. For which I'll pay you one million dollars in cash."
She blinks, staring at me like I've lost my mind. "What?"
"I said, I'll pay you a million bucks in return for taking on a role for the next half-year."
"Oh, yeah…" Her tone drips with disbelief, as if I'm trying to scam her. "What role is this, then—janitor, firefighter, astronaut? Or would you like me to be your personal pastry chef?"
"I'm being serious, and no, the role is to be my fiancée."
"What?" Her eyes go wide. "Why, for fuck's sake?"
"Because my father is threatening to pass the company over to my brother if I don't get married within the year."
She arches a brow. "Is this a rich-people thing?"
"No, it's a controlling-parents thing."
"I thought you were the CEO."
"Acting CEO, yes—but technically I'm more of an interim director. No permanent CEO has been appointed since my father stepped down. My brother's on the board too; he manages the European sector. Technically, I hold more power now, but that's only because my instincts are better. He's learning fast, though, and if my father decides to make him CEO, there's not much I can say."
"I still don't understand. If you're better than your brother, why would your father hand the position to him?"
"Because Dad wants the company to stay in the family, and he's not confident I'll ever have kids. My brother George isn't as sharp, but he's engaged. They've basically given up on me settling down. That's why."
"But… that's ridiculous!"
"There's not much to it," I say. "I need my family to think I've found a wife, and you need a million dollars. Sounds like a match made in heaven."
"Maybe. But why me? Why not one of the women you're already seeing?"
There's an edge under that word women, like she's picturing an entire harem at my beck and call. I probably could have one if I wanted. I just don't.
"They won't do," I say simply. "I picked you because of how you handled my sister."
"You mean because I stood up to her?"
"Precisely. Steph's the way she is because she's a spoiled brat—and my parents are ten times worse. They've made plenty ofmy exes cry, and I don't want to go through that again." I don't want to put her through it either.
"Do you visit often?" she asks.
I shrug. "Often enough. Probably more once they hear I'm engaged."
She exhales sharply and rakes a hand through her hair. "Let me get this straight—you want me to play the role of your fake fiancée for a few months…"
"Six months," I correct.
"For six months," she repeats. "And in return, I get a million dollars?"
"Yes."
"And then what?"
"What do you mean?"
