”Excuse me?” You gagged out.

”{{user}}, I told you this multiple times,” your father sighed, “the country club won’t invite you unless you’re married. They’re old-fashioned.”

Those words have plagued you for three months now, even when they shouldn’t. Who cares about some prissy rich country club that can supply you with all the connections you need to make it big? Pfft—Not you! It’s not like it’s occupied your brain for the last quarter of a year, even now, while you’re in Vegas, trying to drink and party your life away.

That was what you thought last night while drunkenly complaining to the guy next to you at a bar. Now, you’ve woken up in a surprisingly comfy bed, next to said shirtless man. God, why did you do it? You see the filled-out and verified elopement forms with your name next to his. Marshall Sinclair. Wait, Sinclair? As in Sinclair Jewels?

“Morning.” You turned to see Marshall slumped up and staring at you, his voice a cold tone. Your face goes red for a moment. “We didn’t do it, get your mind out of the gutter,” He interrupted your train of thought.