Page 65 of Grumpy Billionaire Seeking Wife

"And what? You'll have a private driver at your disposal. Don't forget. You're the reason I'm in this mess, Sabrina. Do you know how many phone calls I've had so far today? Do you know how many?"

"I can only imagine," she says. "Fine. I've got this final, and then I'm going to turn in a paper. I guess a car can pick me up around 7:00."

"Okay. Don't eat."

"What do you mean, don't eat?"

"I'll have dinner waiting for you."

"You're going to order takeout?"

"Something like that," I say. "Bring enough clothes to last you for the next couple of weeks. You won't be sleeping in that dorm again until you graduate."

"What?" she says. "What do you mean I won't be sleeping out in that dorm again until I graduate? If I graduate, I'll never be sleeping in this dorm again."

"Exactly. Pack up what you can. We'll go back for the rest of your stuff later."

"I don't understand what's going on here, Wes. I feel like..."

"You feel like what? Erica is going to ask questions.”

"And didn't you say she already knows that we've had sex? And didn't you say she already knows about the ad?"

"Yeah, but..."

"So tell her the truth. This is how you're paying me back for what you've done."

"Fine," she says.

"I am sorry. I know you think this is drastic, but if you were the person whose phone was being blown up like this, you would understand."

"Fine," she says. "But I meant what I said."

"And what's that?"

"No more sex."

"Sure."

"I mean it, Wes."

"And I said, sure. Right?"

"The tone in your voice tells me that you think I'm actually going to change my mind, and I'm not."

"I don't need you to change your mind, Sabrina. I'm not having you stay with me because I need sex from you. I'm not having you stay with me because I want anything other than for you to answer my phone calls. And then, when the time is right, in a couple of weeks, we will pretend that we're engaged. We'll go to the gala, and it will be front-page news. And then we continue our lives, as usual."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, once the newspaper prints that I'm engaged, that should get everyone to back off. And all the phone calls should stop."

"And then what?"

"And then a couple of months later, I'll just put a notice in that we broke up. Does that work for you?"

"I guess. So all you need from me is to go to one gala?"

"Exactly. That's it. No sex, no nothing. One gala, one pretend engagement."