I was quickly running out of options. The dossiers in my pile had been thinning over the weeks, more and more of my elite circles’ bachelors thrown into a ‘definitely not’ heap. Some of them had ended there because of bad dates, others because I knew they were friends with either Ari, Gideon or Brian, the latter who’d spilt his guts (literally – those shoes were fit for nothing but burning) about his friends little betting pool.
Didn’t matter how much I did, did it? My successes in the DOA or my father’s vague approval. I was still just the commoner Hawthorne, fit only to be played with and discarded.
Sure, I know I’d wanted a douchebag that I wouldn’t feel guilty about stringing along whilst I got my degree and the tools I needed to make sure I ended up my father’s sole heir. But I di
