I stare at him.
I must still be drunk.
There’s no other explanation.
“You’re suggesting I enter an arranged marriage?” I choke out. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“It’s an opportunity, Jane!” Max insists. “Think about it. You disappear from Los Angeles for a year—let the scandal die down. You come back newly divorced, rebranded, with a fresh imageanda very healthy bank account. Meanwhile, I rebuild your reputation and line up new projects.”
“This is insane. I’m not marrying a stranger.”
“He’s not a stranger—he’s a respected businessman. I did my research. The McGregors own a thriving family company. Scottish spirits, sheep farming?—”
“Sheep?” I repeat, horrified.
I can practicallyhearthem bleating already.
“They’re wealthy, respected, and completely off Hollywood’s radar,” Max continues. “Which is exactly what you need right now.”
I shake my head.
“And why does this man need to get married so urgently? Is he on the run? Wanted by Interpol? Terminally ill? Worse… is he ugly?”
Max snorts.
“None of the above. His father made it a condition of inheritance—he has to be married before his next birthday. Old family. Traditional values.”
“And he couldn’t find anyone in Scotland? He has to import a wife from America?”
Max shrugs.
“He’s on a deadline. And your situation works for him. You need to disappear. He needs someone who won’t get emotionally attached and understands it’s temporary. Also…” He hesitates. “He specifically requested an actress. Someone who can convincingly play the role.”
I shoot to my feet, pointing at him.
“Stop trying to sell me on this. It’s completely insane. I’m not selling my soul for money.”
…Okay, technically, isn’t that kind of what I already do?
I shove that thought away.
“You’re not selling your soul,” Max says calmly. “It’s a business arrangement. You’d be playing a role—the wife. That’s what you do best, isn’t it?”
That hits.
Because he’s right.
Iaman actress.
Or I was… before a viral video torched my reputation.
I slowly sit back down.
“How much?”
Max blinks.
“I’m sorry?”
