The face gazing back at me from the cover is none other than Mr. Needs a Fake Girlfriend himself, complete with his annoyingly boyish dimple. I flip through the pages until I find the article, which is basically a highlight reel documenting all of Dash’s start-up success stories. The digital camera app that’s breaking records. The virtual reality coffee shop chain making waves with the tech-geek-chic crowd. He even managed to sign on with a group of guys who made dorky T-shirts with emoji symbols on them—one year later, they have millions in sales and their streetwear label is the toast of Paris Fashion Week.

I can’t deny it, the man has the golden touch. And the gold-plated spoon in his mouth to match.

Well, not right now he doesn’t. Not unless he manages to charm his grandmother into releasing his trust fund…

I pause, my mind going back to his not-so-indecent proposal. Was Lorelei right? Is this the break I’ve been waiting for? Despite the charm routine, I could tell, Dash is pretty motivated to get his money spigot turned back on. And, OK, it’s not the route to fame, fortune, and empowered entrepreneurship I planned, but beggars can’t be choosers, and my checking account is definitely begging for some moral—and actual—support right now.

Am I really considering this?

I walk home, turning it over in my mind. I can’t believe I’m considering such a crazy idea, but with every block, it seems to make a weird kind of sense. I mean, I’ve schlepped around town, had doors slam in my face a hundred times. Hell, I even went dumpster diving in the name of my dreams. Would play-acting at being Dash’s girlfriend really be any more demeaning than that?

I’m guessing not. Plus, it’ll be way more fragrant.

This could be my one chance to get my makeup line off the ground. There’s only so much I can do, alone at my kitchen table. But with a real investor, the sky’s the limit. I could set up a proper website, perfect my packaging, hire real employees to create and ship the product. Not to mention finally pitching the major beauty retailers, because I would actually be able to fulfil their orders. It would be a massive leap to the future I’ve dreamed about.

Am I really prepared to pass it up just because Dash is an infuriatingly arrogant trust fund kid with the smile of a devil and an ass that just doesn’t quit?

One weekend. I can swing that. One weekend, and my dreams could finally become something real.

I pull out my phone and dial him before I can change my mind.

“I knew you’d change your mind.”

Dash’s knowing chuckle almost makes me hang up on the spot, but I force myself to take a deep breath.

Eyes on the prize, Callie.

“I might be interested in saving your ass,” I say, playing it cool. “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I don’t just want a cash payment,” I tell him, my heart beating a little faster in my chest. “If I do this… If I use my considerable acting skills to convince your grandmother that you’re a sincere, settled, stable guy so she releases your trust fund… Then you have to use some of it to invest in my company. For real. A legit investment, giving me the seed money I need to really get my makeup line off the ground.”