“It—It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it. What’s important is that if you set your feelings of pride and hatred aside, we—”
“I am not prideful,” I interrupt, needing to set the record straight. “But I do hate you—you got that part right.”
Nate shoots me a questionable glance, and I’m ashamed to say he might be onto something. Anyone desperate enough to finish their PhD would accept this deal. Unluckily for me, I fall into that category.
“You’ll help me, and I’ll help you,” Nate reasons. “It’s a win-win for everybody.”
That’s the part I’m still confused about. “What doyouneed help with?”
As far as I know, he’s some model, bodybuilder, do-it-all, who can weasel his way out of anything with a tap of his face card.
“A shot at fixing my reputation,” he says.
It’s vague—an incomplete answer by all means—but the benefits this deal could bring me outweigh the curiosities I have about his life.
“And how would it work?” I ask when I know I shouldn’t.
“Six months. One date a week. And any major event I may need to attend. In return, I’ll donate a large sum of money to the Anderson lab, pay for your PhD, and take care of any other debts you may have.”
I shouldn’t be considering this, but the answer is staring me right in the face.
I have two options—listen to the prideful part of myself and face the consequences of low funding,ordeal with this man for the next six months and have the peace of mind that I can easily finish this PhD.
There are pros and cons to everything—a delicate balance between all that is good and bad—but I seem to have made up my mind when I finally say, “Deal.”
Nate’s eyes light up in surprise, and it’s only when he responds, “Get ready—rehearsals start next week,” that I start questioning what I’ve agreed to.
CHAPTER 6
NATE
“Let me get this straight,” Grayson, my best friend since childhood, says over the phone. “You convinced the girl who made the tabloids with you to be your fake fiancée for the next six months.”
I let out a groan, falling deeper into the cushioned leather of my car seat. “Yes.”
“And in exchange, you’re paying for her PhD?”
It sounds so stupid when he says it like that.
“Yes.”
“And now you’re about to spend an evening with her for the first time outside of your fated run-ins?”
“Yes,” I mutter.
“And you really think this is going to fix all your problems?” Grayson asks with genuine curiosity.
For the first time since this conversation started, my answer to his question isno, but I can’t bring myself to respond. This plan has no choicebutto work. Otherwise, I’m screwed.
“Oh, this is rich.” Grayson’s fit of laughter dissolves into a harsh, deathly wheeze. “I want to be mad that I had to call to find this out, but honestly, this might be the best thing that’s happened to you.”
I give in to the inevitable roll of my eyes.
Filling Grayson in about the mess that’s become my life these past couple of weeks was not on my to-do list.Ever. I planned to move on as if nothing had happened and fulfill my reputation-fixing duties without a second thought.
But when he called and brought up the topic of those horrid headlines—there was no avoiding it. The engagement still hasn’t been announced, but I thought the news would be better heard from me than from the grapevine.
That’s how I found myself divulging all sorts of information—from Melanie’s stalking tendencies to today’s rehearsal engagement dinner.
