“So, how can I be of any service to you, Mr. Hamilton?” I asked him as soon as I got in his flashy car. He didn't answer right away so I glanced at him. “It's not my body, right?” I stifled a giggle when he rolled his eyeballs at me. Honestly, I found it kinda cute, but mentally slapped my face after realizing how I shouldn’t even be thinking about it. He started the car first before he replied to my question.
“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he said flatly while driving out of Beverly Hills.
“What?!”
“Just for today. Don't overreact.” He gave me a quick glance, his eyes telling me that he wouldn't even consider me becoming his real girlfriend and that it didn't cross his mind at all. Oddly, it stung. Like he just stabbed me with a pitchfork right through my heart. Was it because I was
