Kiss Me Until You Cry, or We're Not Getting Back Together

Five years after we broke up, I ran into my ex-boyfriend at a matchmaking event.

He was now a tech mogul worth over a hundred million, while I was just a temp filling in for my best friend.

“Pretend to be my girlfriend. I'll pay you a hundred thousand a month,” he announced in front of all the socialites.

I smiled coolly. “Sorry, I don't take jobs from exes.”

Late that night, he pinned me against a wall in the parking garage, his voice hoarse and trembling. “Then what kind of job do you take? Kissing me, or coming home with me?”

His warm breath brushed my earlobe. “Name your price. Any length of time is fine.”