The Billionaire’s Wayward Virgin Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
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As you’re no doubt aware, your contract with the NMA requires you to meet the suitors we decide are a potential match for you, and to go on one fully subsidized date with any suitor who chooses to schedule a date with you. Two suitors did schedule dates with you after your meet-and-greet session, and they both reported that you did not answer the door when they called for you.

I look forward to discussing your next steps in the New Modesty program and beyond.

With warm regards,

Mrs. Robert Covenant

Harristown Municipal Liaison

New Modesty Authority

I had expected to have the chance to argue my case, such as it was. I hadn’t liked any of the men at the awful meet-and-greet speed-dating session, but the two who had decided to sign up for dates with me—without, I noted, any sort of heads-up to me—had been the worst of them: casually domineering, asking about me as if they had a right to know, clearly convinced by the New Modesty’s bullshit about male-led marriage as the answer to society’s woes.

Online, you could read tons of stories from New Modesty girls who claimed they had gamed the system. Some of them said that by not answering the door for the ones you didn’t like you could keep the subsidy going, even if you didn’t intend to date anyone, let alone get married. I didn’t know whether those girls had lied, or their NMA agents had given them more leeway, or what. Mrs. Robert Covenant—the antique patriarchal signature made my skin crawl—definitely didn’t give any leeway, my luggage seemed to confirm.

My email app had refreshed on its own, and the mail the woman had sent appeared at the top.

Selecta Arrangements: Information for Prospective Platinum-Level Associate Members

‘Platinum-level’? I despised myself for it, but the promise of luxury always seemed to make my heart beat faster.

Are you ready to find love in the way that suits your independent but still feminine lifestyle? the email asked. If you are, Selecta Arrangements is the dating service for you—and if you’re reading this mail, you may qualify for platinum-level attention from prospective sponsors who can make your dreams come true!

‘Sponsors’? I couldn’t help liking that word almost as much as I liked ‘platinum-level.’

Selecta Arrangements isn’t for everyone, the corporate ad-speak voice warned me next, but if you can agree to a few terms designed to keep you and your sponsor happy, it may be for you. And at platinum level, a little more personal investment on your part can result in sky-high rewards from the prequalified men who will see your profile.

I frowned. What did ‘a little more personal investment’ mean?

So if you’re intrigued, go ahead and click here to start making your profile. Taking that step will mean two weeks of comfortable living in a Selecta Arrangements subsidized apartment at one of our SA complexes.

Well, Selecta seemed consistent at least: that part I knew about from my experience in the New Modesty.

After those two weeks, satisfactory progress—just answering your messages and going on one date, if a sponsor takes an interest—will mean a one-month renewal.

That seemed a good deal more reasonable than Harristown, where girls had to let their ‘suitors’ schedule dates.

That’s it! So why not go ahead and make your profile right now?

My mouth twisted to the side as I thought about it. I couldn’t consider myself a fan of Selecta, and my natural distrust of anything a megacorp thought would help me made me reluctant even to take the apparently no-obligation step of making a profile. Dangling a luxury apartment in Beverly Hills in front of my needy eyes struck me as a cruel tactic, even for them—and it made me even more mistrustful.

For all its absurdity and all the disappointment I felt in not having been able to game the system as I had hoped, though, the New Modesty hadn’t hurt me in any way, had it? I mean, along with the stories of successfully conning Selecta out of months of subsidies without dating, there were the stories about suitors punishing New Modesty girls, but that hadn’t happened to me.

And even after having flunked out much more quickly than I had expected, the NMA had thrown me this lifeline. Call it a two-week California vacation.

I tapped the link to take me to the Selecta Arrangements app. I didn’t even need to download anything, it seemed: this app had installed itself as part of my installing the New Modesty app.

A terms-of-use screen came up. I grimaced, and agreed. It hardly seemed worth considering what all I had just consented to; Selecta already had me by the proverbial short and curlies, didn’t they?

Importing your data! an inexplicably cheerful pop-up text box informed me.

“I’ll bet you are,” I said sourly, as if my phone—as if Selecta itself, themself, whatever—could hear me.

Actually, I thought with a little chill down my spine, they probably can, right?


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