Make Me Yours, Mr Billionaire

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars?!" my friend Esme exclaimed, looking shocked.

I buried my face in my palms helplessly.

"She needs the surgery urgently. The doctors have been trying their best to keep her stable while my mom and I try to raise the money. Mom's working two jobs, I'm working three, but we've only been able to raise $10,000. If we don't get her the treatment soon, something bad is going to happen."

"I know you don't like talking about your father, but right now his help is needed. Have you reached out to him?"

"I've swallowed my pride plenty of times and called him. He picked up once and told me not to bother him. After that, he stopped answering my calls."

"That father of yours is really something. I have some money saved up, I'll send it to you."

"Do you have up to $150,000 saved?" I joked, but it came out miserably.

My heart was filled with so much bitterness at the moment that I felt like I was losing my mind by the minute.

I found everything unfair. Why me?

Why my family?

Why was my sister going through this?

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars," Esme repeated as if she still couldn't believe the amount. "There has to be something we can do."

I lifted my head and looked at her.

"I heard strippers get tipped nicely if they perform well."

Her eyes widened at me. "You're going to be a stripper?"

I nodded. "I'm considering it."

"Elle, can you even pole dance? And no, no. That kind of job doesn't suit you. Heck, your mother doesn't even like the bartending job you do here, let alone your becoming a stripper."

"I'm running out of options, Esme."

"Janelle, what are you doing chitchatting during work hours?!" my manager's voice sounded.

I flinched as I turned around to face him.

I had come out of the bar to meet up with Esme when she told me she was nearby. I had badly needed someone to talk to.

"You should go in now. I'm going to find a way. I'll go ask some friends, maybe even take out a loan if I have to."

I nodded and quickly hugged her, then hurried back into the bar.

I had no faith in what Esme had just said.

Esme was a struggling young woman like me; there was no way she'd get that kind of money, and I wasn't expecting her to either.

I was just hoping for a miracle.

My sister, Danica, was only fifteen. She had her whole life ahead of her, and I had promised her a good life someday.

She'd had a heart disease since she was nine, and right now it had gotten worse.

She needed surgery, and I had to get the money.

But how?

I felt confused, sad, and angry all at once.

Ten minutes later, I was standing behind the bar in a crisp white shirt and maroon vest, watching wealthy and average-looking people on the dance floor.

"Two martinis, one dry, one dirty, please," a man called from one end of the bar.

"Coming up," I replied and got to work.

The night dragged by agonizingly slowly.

I watched as a woman came to sit at one of the barstools.

She must have been in her late thirties or early forties, but either way, she looked sophisticated.

She was a beautiful redhead, wearing fashionable white-rimmed glasses.

She smiled at me, and I nodded curtly at her.

I couldn't even force a polite smile back if I wanted to. I was too drained.

She ordered a frozen margarita with some slices of lemon on the side.

"Why do you look so sad?" she suddenly asked me.

I blinked. "I'm not."

Even if I wasn't in the right state of mind at the moment, I still had to abide by the bar's rules and regulations—be polite to customers and keep them happy with our services.

"I know sadness when I see it, honey."

I nodded curtly at her again, hoping she would stop trying to make small talk with me.

I didn't want to share my problems with strangers right now.

"Let me guess, you have money problems?"

"Who doesn't?" I answered before I could stop myself.

"What if I told you that I have a job offer that will earn you $50,000 tonight?"

I frowned at her.

According to the bar's rules, we couldn't really talk about money with customers.

We accepted tips, discreetly.

But talking about this kind of amount was unheard of.

But I was desperate, and even though I knew nothing about this woman,

I was interested in her offer.

"How?"

"First, you have to answer this question. Are you a virgin?"

Why was she asking that?

I answered truthfully by nodding.

"Great, and because of that, the amount is doubled. I'll give you $100,000."

My jaw dropped.

Was she being serious right now?

I didn't want to share my problems with strangers right now.

"Let me guess, you have money problems?"

"Who doesn't?" I answered before I could stop myself.

"What if I told you that I have a job offer that will earn you $50,000 tonight?"

I frowned at her.

According to the bar's rules, we couldn't really talk about money with customers.

We accepted tips, discreetly.

But talking about this kind of amount was unheard of.

But I was desperate, and even though I knew nothing about this woman,

I was interested in her offer.

"How?"

"First, you have to answer this question. Are you a virgin?"

Why was she asking that?

I answered truthfully by nodding.

"Great, and because of that, the amount is doubled. I'll give you $100,000."

My jaw dropped.

Was she being serious right now?