Chapter 81
**Sara**
"Why not?" Jessica grinned mischievously. "We're hot, we're broke, and we've got student loans to pay off. It's a match made in heaven."
"Jess, I can barely take a decent selfie. What the hell would I do on one of those adult content sites?"
"Oh, the possibilities are endless. You could start with some tasteful nudes, maybe work your way up to full-on porn. I bet you'd rock a schoolgirl outfit. Ooh, or a naughty librarian!"
"That's a bit too... explicit, don't you think?"
"Oh, please. It's the 21st century, Sara. Everyone's got a side hustle these days. Besides, you'd be surprised how quickly those pesky student loans can disappear when you're raking in the dough from horny internet strangers. You could make some decent money, clear your debts, and maybe even afford your fancy boutique." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Plus, think of all the fun you could have. Who knows, maybe Professor Hottie would even subscribe."
"Yeah, because that's exactly what I want. My professor seeing me in compromising positions online."
"Hey, speaking of Professor Hottie," I said, desperate to change the subject, "did you know Tom's actually from a billionaire family?"
"Wait, what? No fucking way!"
I nodded, feeling a bit smug. "Yep. Blackwood Industries ring any bells?"
Jessica's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Holy shit! Blackwood Industries? As in, the mega-corporation that basically owns half the city? That Blackwood?"
"The very same," I said, trying not to sound too proud. "Tom's father is the big boss."
"Well, slap my ass and call me Sally," Jessica exclaimed. "Our dear Professor Tom is a secret billionaire? Why the hell is he teaching when he could be lounging on a yacht somewhere?"
I shrugged. "His father wants him to join the family business, but Tom prefers teaching. He says it's more fulfilling."
"Fulfilling? Please. You know what's fulfilling? A bank account with more zeros than I can count. If I were him, I'd be diving into a pool of money Scrooge McDuck style."
"It's not all about money."
"Says the girl drowning in student debt," Jessica retorted. "Speaking of which, why don't you ask your sugar daddy professor to clear your debts? I mean, he's loaded, right? What's a few thousand to a billionaire?"
"Sugar daddy? It's not like that at all. I'm not some gold digger looking for a free ride."
"You're telling me you've never thought about it? Not even once?"
"No!" I protested, perhaps a bit too quickly. "I mean, sure, the money's nice, but that's not why I'm interested in Tom."
"Interested, huh?" Jessica's eyes gleamed with mischief. "So you admit something is going on between you two?"
"That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"Uh-huh," she smirked. "Keep telling yourself that. But seriously, think about it. A little sugar never hurt anyone. And let's face it, your bank account could use some sweetening."
"I swear to God-"
"What? I'm just saying if you've got a billionaire wrapped around your finger, why not take advantage? It's not like he'd miss a few grand."
I threw a pillow at her head. "I can't believe you're even suggesting this. I'm not going to use Tom for his money. That's just... wrong."
"Wrong? Or smart?" Jessica wiggled her eyebrows. "Come on, Sara. Live a little. Imagine all the shoes you could buy. The vacations you could take. You could eat at fancy restaurants without checking your bank balance first."
"I'd rather eat ramen for the rest of my life than be some trophy girlfriend," I huffed.
Jessica burst out laughing. "Trophy girlfriend? You're thinking too small. Why settle for girlfriend when you could be a trophy wife? Imagine it: Sara Blackwood, billionaire heiress."
"You're insane. I've never even thought about that."
"Bullshit," she cackled. "You're telling me you've never once fantasized about being whisked away to some tropical paradise on a private jet? Never dreamed about sipping champagne on a yacht while your billionaire hubby rubs sunscreen on your back?"
"No!" I protested, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Okay, maybe once or twice. But come on, it's not like that's ever going to happen."
"But it could, Sara. It totally could. You've got a hot billionaire professor practically eating out of your hand. Why not take advantage?"
"Because I'm not some gold-digging opportunist?" I shot back. "Besides, Tom's not like that. He values his work and his independence. He's not just some trust fund baby looking for arm candy."
"Trust me, every man wants arm candy. Even the smart, independent ones. Especially the smart, independent ones. They just don't want to admit it."
"You're unbelievable. Not everyone is as obsessed with money as you are."
"You're so naive it's almost cute," Jessica said, patting my knee condescendingly. "Trust me, if I had a shot at bagging a billionaire, I'd be all over that faster than you can say 'prenup.'"
"You can't be serious."
"Dead serious," she replied. "Think about it, Sara. No more student loans, no more crappy apartments, no more wondering if you can afford both dinner and rent this month. You could have it all!"
I shook my head, trying not to laugh at her enthusiasm. "And what about love? Compatibility? You know, the things that actually matter in a relationship?"
"Love is overrated. Do you know what's not overrated? Financial security. Besides, who says you can't grow to love someone? Especially if that someone has a private jet and a yacht."
"Let's drop this topic before I lose my last faith in humanity."
"Alright, alright. I'll stop trying to turn you into a gold-digger extraordinaire. But don't come crying to me when you're still eating ramen in your 40s."
"I'd rather eat ramen forever than sell my soul for a yacht," I retorted.
As our conversation drifted to other topics, I couldn't shake the nagging thought in my mind. Did I like Tom for who he was, or was I subconsciously attracted to his wealth?
Sure, the man was brilliant, kind, and hotter than a jalapeño in a sauna. But would I feel the same if he was another broke college professor? The thought made me squirm uncomfortably.
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