Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 577 Gwen's POV "So... hypothetically..." | said, staring at my own exhausted face on my phone screen, "if | had promised to save a failing inn in the middle of nowhere, what would you do first?" My hair was in a crooked bun on top of my head, and the mug of coffee beside me had already been reheated in the microwave three times. On the other end of the video call, Zoey froze mid-sip of wine. "Sorry," she said slowly, taking off her sunglasses like she'd just heard a criminal confession.

"Did you just say save a failing inn in the middle of nowhere?" Her camera shifted slightly, changing angles. Behind her looked like a Kensington commercial come to life: a pool glittering under the sun in the hills of southern Verdania, vineyards cascading down the slope like they'd been hand-combed. | squinted. "Are you... at the pool?" "I'm ina strategic meeting," Zoey replied, dead serious, floating ona giant grape-shaped inflatable. "This wine and | are ---- discussing happiness metrics. Now repeat the part about the inn, | buried my face in my free hand.

"I screwed up." "That's not news, babe. Be specific." | took a deep breath before starting. "You know, after the whole memory-loss mess and the way | got close to Nick..." "And the sex by the fireplace," Zoey cut in with a knowing grin. | rolled my eyes. "The point is, | didn't tell him the whole truth. He still thinks I'm a digital marketing consultant specializing in rural tourism. | can't exactly say, 'Oh, by the way, I'm a Kensington and | was actually there to see if my brother should buy your land." Zoey went quiet for a moment, processing.

"Digital marketing consultant specializing in rural tourism," she repeated slowly. "Gwen. You can't even post a cat photo without asking three people for approval first." "know, Zoey!" | groaned, flopping back onto the couch and ---- making the image shake. "And you can thank your husband for getting me into this in the first place. But now... | promised. | promised | could help. | told him | knew exactly how to save Valemont Estate." "So you called me to help you keep your lie alive," Zoey concluded.

called you because you're in PR and you're the closest thing | have to someone who actually understands what to do in a crisis, "| said in one breath. "| need a plan. A framework. A mental PowerPoint. Anything that makes me sound even remotely competent." Zoey rested her chin on her arm atop the float, studying me with that look she got when she was deciding whether to help or lecture me first. "Okay," she said

"That it's small, family-run, attached to the winery," | listed, "That almost no one stays there outside of holidays. That they rely heavily on word of mouth. And that their website looks like it was built in 2005." "And you still promised to save it?" "Have | mentioned that

the inn versus the winery, what marketing channels they use now, whether they have partnerships with travel agencies. Ask smart questions. You're good at asking smart questions." | sighed, feeling a small wave of relief for the first time. "That part | can do. Asking questions is my specialty," | said. "

Instagram, Google, TripAdvisor, all of that. Just cleaning that up already looks like a miracle to people who are doing absolutely nothing." | frowned.

screenshots, and I'll tell you what needs fixing. You become the marketing messenger pigeon." | stared at the screen, processing. "So you're proposing to be my ghost consultant?" "'m proposing an international Verdania-Valentia collaborative project," Zoey said, raising her glass in an imaginary toast. "You over there pretending you know what you're doing, me over here actually knowing. Everyone wins." | groaned, covering my

just a consultant ---- with a slight... résumé upgrade." "A slight upgrade like 'I'm the person who signs half the reports at the company that could buy his entire property," | muttered. Zoey shrugged, the pool water rippling around her. "Details. We deal with the moral implications in the epilogue. Right