3. Raven

"We're doomed."

"How can you have a defeatist attitude like that?"

I grab a fry and drag it through the ketchup before chomping down on it. "The invitation says Raven West and partner. And in case you haven't noticed, Chelsea"—I pierce my assistant with a knowing look across the desk—"I haven't had a girlfriend in over two years."

"Okay, so a minor inconvenience."

I fight the eye roll and grab another fry, trying to rack my brain for any possible solution. Now that I finally have the chance to buy the company, I don't want my single status to stop me.

"And where do you suggest I find a girlfriend to leave for an event that starts next week?" I point a finger at her. "And don't say you, because I don't want to face Cora's wrath."

Chelsea screws up her face. "I wasn't even going to suggest myself as an option. You couldn't pay me enough."

"Ouch." I grab my strawberry shake and take a hearty gulp. Nothing like a little reality check that you're not everyone's type.

Exactly why you're in this situation, Raven.

Even when I was dating, I was too picky. No one met the high standards I set. I got bored too easily. It seemed everyone was more interested in my job—and the dollar signs that came with it—than in me. Instead of worrying about dating, my work became my life. Not that I minded, because I love what I do.

Except for the part where we've been sitting around the conference room table for hours trying to figure out how this is going to work.

Chelsea's eyes widen. "Hold on. There is something…"

"What?" I lean across the desk, needing any scrap of information that could potentially help me look like a well-rounded person.

Their words, not mine. I'm a well-rounded person without a partner, thank you very much.

"Another assistant was talking about how their boss used this company to find him the type of person he needed."

"Like an escort service?" Sounds like the dating app my Gram had in mind for me.

She waves me off. "No. If you have a certain need that needs fulfilled, like hiring a nanny or someone to take to an event with you, they can provide you that."

"What's it called?"

"Elite Connections."

"I've never heard of them."

A coy smile spreads across Chelsea's face. "I doubt you have. I only know about it because of the assistants' network."

"And would they be able to find me someone…suitable?"

She nods, practically gleeful. "Yes. I have their info and we can message them."

She pops up from her spot and runs out to her desk with surprising ease for wearing a pencil skirt and stiletto heels.

Hire someone to be my girlfriend? It's crazy. Probably one of the craziest things I've ever done.

But I want this more than anything. If I have to hire someone to play the part—to pretend to be in love with me—it's worth it.

"Here you go."

Chelsea slaps a sticky note with an email address on it down on my desk.

"This is it?" I hold the pink paper up in my hands.

[emailprotected]

"How do I know this isn't some teenage boy trying to swindle people out of money?"

Chelsea rolls her eyes at me. "Are you really going to doubt the assistants' network?"

"No," I grumble.

"Then email them. The sooner the better, otherwise you get charged more."

Leaning back in her chair, Chelsea looks like this is all but guaranteed.

One little email address with the power to change my future.

"And just tell them, what, I need a girlfriend?"

"Yes. Email them and they'll take care of the rest."

Still wary, I open my email, type out their address, and tell them what I need.

"This feels desperate," I tell her as I hit send.

"Aren't you, though?"

"I don't want them to know that." I drop my phone on my desk and suck down the last of my shake.

"It's why they're there if you need them." Chelsea nods. "They only work on recommendations. If you don't have someone who worked with them, you won't find them. It's for people like you."

"People like me?" I quirk a brow.

"People who have money and can spend it. You pay a premium for the service to get what you need."

"So a girlfriend for the next three weeks?"

"Exactly."

My email dings within minutes.

Good evening Ms. West,

Thank you for contacting Elite Connections. We here at Elite pride ourselves on matching our exclusive clientele with whatever they may need. Our aim is to match your desires and exceed your expectations.

In order to best match you, please take some time to fill out the information below, and we will match you with a suitable partner.

If assistance is needed within twenty-four hours, please contact us at the number below.

Should you accept our services, a separate email with wire instructions will be sent for payment.

Thank you for reaching out! It is our pleasure to serve you here at Elite Connections.

Holy shit.

"They responded."

"Not a teenage boy?"

I smirk at her. "No."

"Let me see." Chelsea steps around the desk and pulls the phone out of my hand. "Wow, they are detailed. Height. Weight. They even ask what college you would prefer they attended."

"Why are you shocked by this?" I grab the phone and go back to looking at the questions. There have to be two hundred questions on this thing.

"It seems like it would be hard to pair you with someone at that level of detail."

"Are you saying I'm too picky?"

Chelsea mimes zipping her lips and heads back around the desk. "On that note, I am going home to my wife."

"See if I give you your Christmas bonus then."

Chelsea waves over her shoulder. "Raven, this place would go up in flames without me." She's right, but I don't tell her that. "I expect a trip to Tahiti once you seal that deal with traveLLin'."

She leaves me in peace to fill out the questionnaire.

Question after question. The farther I get down the list, the more I'm starting to question my sanity. I've never done anything like this in my life.

Am I really going to do this?

I answer each question as best I can, trying not to get overwhelmed by it all. Knowing I'll full well do what I need to in order to make this happen.

I hit submit.

No going back now.