Lottie moves her jaw back and forth but doesn’t answer me.

I thumb toward the door. “Or should I go ask her myself?” I move to leave and she quickly springs from the bed and grabs my hand, pulling me back.

“Don’t say a GD thing to my mom.” She sits on the bed and then flops backwards. “God, why is this such a nightmare?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” I say. “It could be really simple. We can help each other out, but for some reason, you’re not allowing that to happen.”

“Because you’re a complete stranger,” she hisses at me. “You want me to be your fiancée, live with you apparently, and be at your beck and call? I have a life I have to live, I don’t have time to play your rich-dick game.”

“This isn’t a game for me,” I say. “This is a huge fuckup on my part, and I’m trying to make it better, for everyone. And you won’t have to be at my beck and call, just a few dinners here and there, maybe a weekend thing, just until I can secure this deal, and then you can tell me to fuck off.”

“And what do I get in return?” she asks, lifting up so she’s leaning on her elbows.

“Whatever you want,” I say, because I’m at that point. I want her to know the sky is the limit, because I’ve yet to mention the pregnancy thing. “Need a place to stay? I have a seven-bedroom home. Need a date for your reunion? I’m your man. Need me to make a phone call to this ex-boss of yours, let her know she made a huge mistake by letting you go? I’m there for you. Want a job? I can find you one.”

“I don’t want a job from you,” she says. “I really want . . .” Her voice trails off as she shakes her head and looks toward her window.

Oh, she does want something. I can see it in her far-off gaze. It’s wishful, hopeful, something behind those sultry eyes that she truly, truly wants.

I take that opportunity to sit next to her on the bed. This might be a breakthrough moment for me, where I can move past that tough exterior of hers. “What do you want, Lottie? Trust me, I can make pretty much anything happen.”

Her lips twist to the side as she avoids eye contact with me. Just from the way her brow draws together, I know she’s thinking about it, considering telling me. Instead of pushing, I wait.

And wait.

Until . . .

“I want to be able to help my sister,” she says quietly. “I want to feel fulfilled with my career, appreciated, and I know I can do that with Kelsey. She’s my person, my best friend, and working with her would be a dream.” She glances at me. “But she can’t afford to hire me, and I need to make money.”

“What does she do?” I appreciate the vulnerability in her voice. When she’s not hiding behind the snark and sarcasm, she’s the most unselfish person I’ve ever known. Here I am with the proverbial Aladdin’s lamp, and she wants to help her sister. True altruism. Wow.

“She has her own organizing company. Think The Home Edit, but doing it sustainably.”

“What’s The Home Edit?” I ask, confused. Is that something I should know?

“Ugh, men,” she mutters before saying, “The Home Edit is all about organizing your house, paring things down, and making sure you live an organized life rather than a chaotic one. They turn pantries into havens, fridges into masterpieces. It’s spectacular. Kelsey is on the cusp of being able to push forward and be more than a one-person show, but she’s having a hard time keeping up with the business side. That’s where I would come in.”

“I see.” I stare down at her. “You know, I have a lot of connections. My brothers alone could use someone to come into their house and organize. Our offices could use an overhaul. I can make sure your sister’s business is not only seen by the type of people who would spend a lot of money for her services, but I can make it thrive as well.”

“We don’t want your charity.”

“It’s not charity. I’m not telling people to use her, but if you want to go anywhere in business, Lottie, you have to know connections mean everything. Sometimes, just one person is all you need. One person to ignite the flame, because that one person might know five people, and those five people might know five more people, and that’s how a business grows at first, word of mouth. I’m that first person and I know way more than five people.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I want to help you.” How do I make her believe me? “How about this—you pretend to be my fiancée and go to these business events with me, and in return, you can stay at my house—”

“I’m not living with you. I can move in with Kelsey. There’s no way I’m living with a stranger I don’t know.”

“Fine. You take the job with Kelsey and move in with her, and I help you two with some connections.”

She mulls it over, her lips twisted to the side.

“And you know,” I add, clearing my throat, “if you could be pregnant as well, that would be ideal.”

“What?” she says, sitting up completely. “Have you lost your mind? I’m not letting you get me pregnant.”

“Fuck, no, I didn’t mean it like that. Pretend to be pregnant. Pretend. I’m not going to be fucking you or anything like that.”

Her brow knits together. “Why on earth would I pretend to be pregnant?”

“Because I told the guy I’m trying to do business with that you’re pregnant.”

“Why? Why would you say that?”

I sigh and grip the back of my neck. “His fiancée is pregnant. I was trying to form a connection with the guy.”

“By making up the fact that you have a pregnant fiancée? Wow, Huxley, you really are in some deep shit, aren’t you?”

“I am. That’s why I need you. So, name it, Lottie.” I hold my arms out. “Name what you want and it’s yours.”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Okay.” I stand from the bed and pace her room. “In a perfect world, what would you have right now?” I face her and hold my finger up. “Working with your sister, right?”

She nods.

“Not living with your mom and Jeff.”

She nods again.

“Showing up this boss of yours, the one that let you go.”

“A lifelong friend who has been toxic from the start. Would love to just shove it up her ass.”

I chuckle. “Okay, that can be arranged. What else?”

“Perfect world?” she asks with hesitation.

“Perfect world.”

Her teeth roll over the corner of her mouth as she says, “Well, I’d be working with my sister, out of my mom’s house, could stick it to Angela, my student loans are paid off, and every time it rains, I have a place where I can lie in the rain without judgment.”

“Done,” I answer.

“What?” she asks skeptically.

“All of it, done. I’ve got you covered. I’ll help with your sister’s business so you can work for her. You’re going to live with your sister, so that covers housing, we’ll make the perfect plan to stick it to Angela, I’ll easily pay off your student loans, and I know the perfect place to privately lie in the rain.”

She shakes her head. “You’re not paying off my student loans.”

“Why not?” I ask her.

“Because I’m not a hooker.”

I scratch the back of my head. “I don’t recall the time where I said I would pay you to fuck me.”

“You didn’t, but it just feels . . . weird. You paying me to be your escort.”

“First of all, you’re not an escort. Let’s throw that term right out the window, got it? Second of all, this isn’t about me, this is about us. This is a deal. An accord. A transaction between two people. We’ll both agree upon a fair bargain, and trade services, that’s it. Nothing more. Trust me, I’d pay a hefty amount of money to convince you to get on board. I’m sure the student loans can’t be that bad. How much do you owe?”

She winces and says, “Thirty thousand dollars.”

The corner of my mouth tilts up. “Chump change, Lottie.”

Her eyes widen. “I have a thirty-thousand-dollar debt and you’re calling that chump change?”

“Trust me when I say I have billions to work with.”