I’m never going to get married.
But I’ll play along and pretend to be a pretty girl’s fake fiancé at a wedding when she springs it on me.
If only she knew who I was.
Bancroft.
Billionaire.
Bachelor.
The charade was fun while it lasted, but the tables turn on me fast.
Turns out I need a fake fiancée for more than just a wedding date.
I need a girl who will redeem me to the public and clean up my reputation.
Apparently I’m not marketable for my nonprofit and my name tarnishes it.
I know just who to call to cash in a favor.
The curvy vixen from the wedding who can spin a lie faster than I can bed a model.
She and I?
We’re in it for the short haul.
Or are we?
