Poor Luke had had enough drama. His world was already shattered, and Gigi only ever seemed to ignore him or yell at him. But now he was going to have to deal with me, his bachelor uncle. What had Gigi called me?Uncle Absent.She had no room to talk, and yet, she wasn’t entirely wrong.
I had a lot of work to do.
Why had they insisted I get married? Probably for Luke’s sake, and I didn’t blame them for that. The boy would need stability, attention, and warmth I couldn’t offer. But the problem was I didn’t have a candidate for a wife. I didn’t have a girlfriend; I didn’t want one. I didn’t have any female friends. I didn’t have anybody who could help me.
That was because I didn’t need anybody. Ever. I would never ask for help.
In my world, money got me whatever I wanted. And it worked every time. It was easy, simple. A transaction. If I needed something, I bought it. If I wanted something to go my way, I paid for the opportunity. Money made my world go round, and it was the one thing I knew I could always rely on.
If only…
I glanced at my phone, then typedhow to buy a brideinto my search engine.
And then, very much against my better judgment, I started reading.
SERVED
RORY
We were cleaningthe chicken coop when a car came down the dusty drive. Chewie started barking. A man I didn’t recognize parked in front of Grammy’s ramshackle house and rang the doorbell.
“Stay here,” I told Josie and Bo. They were busy petting chickens and didn’t take much notice.
I hustled to the door as my grandmother opened it.
“Good afternoon, Ma’am,” the stranger said. “I’m looking for Ms. Dorothy Lautner.”
“That’s me,” she said.
He pressed an envelope into her hand. “You’ve been served, Ms. Lautner. Have a good day.”
He didn’t look back as he hopped in his sedan and drove away, kicking up dust.
“Grammy.” I reached her side. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” she said, and tucked the envelope into her pocket.
“Who was that?”
“No one my granddaughter needs to worry about,” Grammy said with an air of finality. “Now, please go finish up the chores. I’ve got things to do in here.”
I went back and kept cleaning. But later, when she was having a cup of tea and watching the news, I went to my grandmother’s desk. There, tucked behind the calendar, was the letter the man had delivered.
NOTICE OF FORECLOSURE SALE
It was written in legal jargon, but I understood the gist. My grandmother’s farm was going up for auction unless she paid the bank two hundred thousand dollars.
I blinked as the number swam in front of my eyes. It might as well have been two hundred million…
My grandmother’s family had owned the property for years. I didn’t know when she’d taken a loan on it, but it didn’t matter. We had no money. If we didn’t do something, we’d all be homeless by the end of the summer.
I went to my room and paced. Even if I did video calls on the app twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, I would never be able to earn enough money to save the farm.
What I needed was a magic genie or a winning lottery ticket. Since neither of those things was going to appear, I had to figure it out, and fast. My grandmother, my brother, and my sister were all I had in the world—they were precious to me. It was bad enough that Mom had left. I wasn’t going to let this happen.
I pulled out my phone and searched forjobs that earn you lots of money. It was what I expected: professional athlete, CEO, nurse anesthetist, surgeon, computer scientist. My stomach sank.
I kept scrolling, feeling more and more desperate. Finally, a thread on Reddit caught my attention:I earn high-six figures as an escort, and I’m not even sorry.
