Marry Me for Money Read Online Free PDF

our way back.
    The waitress broke the moment by taking our order, and my silence continued. He was still observing me, and he laughed when I shot him a mean-girl look.
    “So, Beth, what’s your deal?” Kent asked as the waitress came back and placed our food in front of us.
    The aroma of eggs, bacon and pancakes made my mouth water. “My deal? I have no deal,” I said, pulling my eyebrows together. I picked up my fork and jammed a piece of egg into my mouth.
    “No, tell me what you’re about.”
    “We’re not friends, so I’m not sharing my life story with you. Plus, I’m pretty sure I don’t even like you,” I snapped.
    He laughed, but I ignored him as I chowed down on a big piece of pancake. When the maple syrup touched my lips, I sighed inwardly. The syrupy liquid coated my tongue and slid down my throat, the tastiness satisfying the hunger pangs in my belly.
    “Delicious, right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with a slight smile.
    “Maybe,” I said, my mouth still full of food. I scrunched my face, still trying to stay mad, even though the meal was beginning to lighten my mood.
    “You know,” he said, “you really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.”
    I opened my mouth wide to show him the eggs mixed with bacon and pancakes. I didn’t care that I was acting juvenile. It wasn’t like I was trying to impress him. He made a face, feigning disgust, and a small laugh escaped his lips.
    “So, back to my question, tell me about yourself, Bethany Casse. Tell me the stuff that I can’t find on paper.”
    “I don’t have any secrets.” I chomped on a piece of bacon.
    “Come on, tell me. The good girls always have secrets.”
    When he smiled, I purposely distorted my face even more. My rudeness wasn’t bothering him. If anything, he was more entertained at my annoyance, so I decided to turn the table on him.
    “What’s your deal?” I asked, pointing my knife in his direction. “Tell me your deal,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
    “I thought my deal was pretty obvious. My deal is, I do what I want to, whenever I want to, and with whomever I want to. I, Miss Bethany Casse, have a very good deal.”
    “Must be nice,” I blurted.
    “Yes, it is,” he said, leaning back against the booth.
    “Rich people work, too. Ever heard of Bill Gates? I mean, your dad works hard to sustain his company. Don’t you have ambitions? What do you want to do when you grow up?” I couldn’t help but be curious about the entitled male in front of me.
    “I want to do what I’m doing now—absolutely nothing and everything. I’m one of the very few people who can say I have the luxury of doing that. I’m not trying to be conceited, but it’s just the truth.”
    He took a sip of water. “I have an allowance from my trust fund, so I will never have to work. And at the age of twenty-five, I will be entitled to the whole trust. Anyone with this option would do the same. Wouldn’t you?”
    “No. I wouldn’t. I’d choose normalcy. I’d choose being productive and contributing to society by going to work,” I said, making a face.
    Both of his dimples emerged. “Did you just stick your tongue out at me?”
    “No,” I lied, pretending that it just hadn’t happened. “So, what makes you happy? Don’t you want more from life?”
    I wanted to kill the curious cat, but the more he spoke, the more I wanted to know. His answers had annoyed me, but even more than that, my uncontrollable inquisitiveness irritated me.
    “What makes me content is the here and now. I’m content with sitting here with you and eating this pancake because I want to. If I weren’t, I’d get up and leave. I rarely have to do what I don’t want to do. If I get bored, I plan a vacation…or go to Bowlesville,” he said with a smirk.
    “I’m sorry, but what about company succession? Is there an uncle or someone else?”
    I thought of Jack Plack, a father who had worked so hard to grow and sustain a company that had been passed