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“Because the system is flawed, the hours suck, the pay sucks, and I wouldn’t have time for school. I have two classes left to get my master’s degree. The tuition is due next month, and I’m going to have to put it off until after I find a job. Plus, my friend that I live with just informed me this morning that the rent is going up an extra four hundred dollars.”
CHAPTER 8
Miles
This was perfect. She needed money, and I needed a wife.
“I can solve your money problems for you. You can finish up your master’s and then focus on your doctorate.”
“How?” She laughed.
“I can pay for your schooling, plus give you money to live on.”
She stared at me with furrowed brows. “I don’t understand what’s going on here, Miles. Why would you do that?”
“Because I need a favor from you.”
“What kind of favor?” She brought the wine up to her lips.
I threw back the rest of my bourbon and set my glass down.
“I need you to become my wife.”
“What?” she shouted and spit out her wine.
I grabbed a napkin and handed it to her.
“Are you fucking crazy?” she asked.
“Just listen to me, Stella.”
“No. This is insane.” She grabbed her purse and headed towards the door. “You’re insane.”
“You’re going to turn down one million dollars? You have no job and no money. Think about how old you’ll be before you ever get the doctorate you want so badly.”
She stopped, turned around, and stared at me.
“You wouldn’t have to work, and your only focus would be on school,” I said. “You need the money, and I need a wife. I'll explain everything if you set your purse down and sit on the couch. Please.”
She let out a long sigh, set her purse down, and walked over to the couch.
“Explain, now,” she said.
“My name is Miles Bradshaw, and I’m the president of Bradshaw Capital. My mother recently passed away, and instead of leaving the company to me, she put my uncle in charge. Her will stated that if I married within the year and stayed married for a year, the company would go to me. That company is rightfully mine, and I should be sitting in my mother’s office, running it, not my uncle.”
“Can’t you contest the will?” she asked.
“She put in a no-contest clause.”
“Why would she do that to you?”
“Our relationship was very strained, and she didn’t like how I lived outside of the office.”
“And how is that?”
“Being a bachelor, seeing a variety of women, never wanting to settle down. She changed her will when she found out she had terminal cancer. I should have seen this coming. I need my company, Stella.”
“I don’t know, Miles.” She shook her head. “This whole thing is preposterous.”
