When a stunning stranger offered me $500 to play her boyfriend for three hours, I thought it was easy money. I had no idea that saying yes would trap me in a web of manipulation that nearly destroyed everything I’d worked for.

My name is Anthony, and up until six months ago, I thought I had life figured out.

I had a solid job at a mid-sized marketing firm, a modest apartment, and most importantly, enough income to help support my elderly mother. She’d sacrificed everything to raise me after Dad walked out when I was twelve. Now it was my turn to take care of her.

While other guys my age were getting married or building families, I was laser-focused on climbing the corporate ladder. Each morning, I was up at six, chugging coffee and pushing through deadlines. My coworkers went out for drinks — I stayed late to finish pitch decks.

“You need to get out more,” Jake from my team would tell me. “You’re 32. When’s the last time you even touched a dating app?”

But I wasn’t looking for love. Between work and covering Mom’s medical bills, dating felt like a luxury I couldn’t afford. I was content with my routine. Work hard. Save smart. Build a better life.

Even my boss, David — the CEO — had noticed my dedication. A few months earlier, he’d pulled me aside and mentioned a management position that might be opening up soon. That conversation fueled every sleepless night and kept me going.

Everything was falling into place — until that one Saturday afternoon in September.

I was at my favorite café, sipping coffee and catching up on digital marketing trends, when a woman I’d never seen before sat down across from me.

She had long auburn hair, brilliant green eyes, and confidence that filled the room.

“Hi, I’m Meredith,” she said, sliding into the seat like she owned it. “Want to earn $500 for three hours of your time?”

I nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

“I need a fake boyfriend. Just for one lunch with my parents. The guy who was supposed to help me bailed, and I’m desperate. Three hours, tops. Cash upfront.”

It sounded like a scam. Or a prank. But she seemed serious — too serious.

She leaned in. “My dad won’t stop pushing me to get married. I told him I already had someone. If I show up alone, he’ll never let it go.”

I hesitated. She smiled again — like she already knew I’d say yes. “You look like the type of guy my parents would approve of. Handsome, clean-cut, non-threatening. Please.”

Flattery and five hundred dollars? I should’ve walked away. But I thought of Mom’s next physical therapy bill and found myself nodding.

“Fine. But just this once.”

“Perfect,” she grinned. “Lunch is in an hour.”

On the walk to the restaurant, we rehearsed our fake story — how we met, what I did for work, her favorite color. It felt surreal, like preparing for a role in a play I never auditioned for.

But nothing could have prepared me for the shock waiting at the restaurant.

Sitting at the corner table was her father.

David.

My boss.

The CEO. The man who had just told me I was being considered for a promotion. The man I desperately needed to impress.

His eyebrow twitched the moment he saw me. “Anthony?”

I froze. Meredith, oblivious, beamed. “Dad, Mom — this is Anthony. My boyfriend.”

I was dying inside.

David didn’t say a word at first, but the meal quickly turned into a corporate interrogation disguised as small talk.

“How’s the Morrison account progressing?” he asked between bites of steak.
“What’s your timeline on the Q4 campaign?”
“Do you always mix business and pleasure?”

Meanwhile, Meredith’s mother cooed about how wonderful it was to finally meet “the one.”

And then, the kicker.

David raised his glass. “Anthony, if you ever hurt my daughter, you won’t just lose her. You’ll lose your career. I’ll make sure of it.”

I smiled, pretending my palms weren’t drenched in sweat.

After lunch, Meredith pulled me outside for a “romantic walk.” I yanked my hand away the second we were out of view.

“You didn’t tell me your dad was David — my boss,” I hissed.

She shrugged. “I didn’t know when I picked you. But it actually works out. He likes you.”

“I can’t keep doing this,” I said. “This was supposed to be one lunch.”

“You’ll get used to it,” she said breezily. “Next week’s dinner.”

“Absolutely not.”

She turned to leave without a word of concern. “See you then, babe.”

I stood there, stunned. I had walked straight into a trap. And now, with my career on the line, I couldn’t just walk away.

True to her word, she called the next week. And the one after that.

Each time, I wanted to say no. But each time, I thought of David’s warning. If she twisted the story — if she accused me of anything — I’d be finished. So I went. And smiled. And nodded.

Until one night, I recorded everything. Her threats. Her manipulation. Her laughter as she admitted to using my job against me.

I walked into David’s office the next morning, shaking.

“Sir,” I said, “there’s something you need to hear.”

I told him everything. How I met Meredith. How she kept pulling me in. Then I played the recording.

He listened in silence.

Then he… laughed.

“I knew it,” he said, chuckling. “You’re not the first. Meredith’s done this before. Every month, it’s a new ‘boyfriend’ to keep up the illusion.”

I blinked. “Wait — illusion?”

“She prefers women. Has for years. Her mother’s still in denial. Meredith just plays along to keep the peace. But threatening people? That’s new.”

“So… I’m not fired?”

“Fired?” David said, still laughing. “Hell, no. You showed backbone. Integrity. That’s exactly the kind of leadership I’m looking for.”

He clapped my shoulder. “Delete the recording. This stays between us.”

I did — in front of him. Though I kept a backup on my laptop. Just in case.

A week later, I got promoted. A month later, I was leading a team.

Meredith never called again.

Word around the office was that David finally sat down with his wife and told her the truth. Meredith stopped bringing home fake boyfriends after that.

As for me?

Well, I learned a few things that month. About manipulation. About pressure. About standing up for myself.

And that sometimes, a $500 side hustle can lead to a raise, a title, and a lesson you’ll never forget.

Mom’s doing better, too — thanks to that promotion.

And I? I no longer accept strange offers from beautiful strangers in cafés.

No matter how desperate they look.