"I am genuine." 

He rolls his eyes. "I'm only agreeing to this because I love her, and I hate the way she's been these last few days."

"That's on me," I admit, more to myself than him. 

"No shit. And I'm trusting you to fix her," he adds. "We had our first argument, and it was all because of you."

"I'm sorry. What can I do?"

"You rich people and acting like throwing money around will instantly fix everything," he mutters, pouring himself another glass. 

"I wasn't even talking about—"

He doesn't let me defend myself. Cutting me short, he says, "Thirty grand."

I blink. "What?" 

He exhales loudly. "I...