Billionaire Single Dad

by Claire Adams

  I walked a little further down the block and called the driver to take me back to the resort. During the twenty-minute drive, I tried to make sense of what I had just learned and figure out what to do next.

  I was going to be a mom, and Asher was the father. There was no doubt about that. He was the only man I'd been with in over a year.

  That’s when our conversation on the plane ride started swirling in my head. Asher didn’t want to be a father. He didn’t want children. He’d said so himself. Knowing what I knew about his family, I wasn’t so sure I wanted that influence on my child either. Asher had always been on his best behavior around me. With the one exception of the time Savage brought me flowers, I couldn’t say I’d ever seen him in a situation to get angry. There was no way to know he wouldn’t be like his father. After all, Asher had never had a serious relationship. In 30 years, that suddenly seemed a little odd to me.

  I got out my phone and went to google image search and typed in Asher's father's name. I had to see what he looked like. Google immediately brought up press photographs and mugshots of his arrest. I clicked on the first clear shot that came up and almost dropped my phone. Asher was the spitting image of his father, so much so that they could have been twins.

  It hit me like a ton of bricks.

  It had all been nothing more than a fairytale, this whole thing between Asher and I. Only, the thing was, there was no way that this fairytale could have a happy ending. It was true to form in my life, just another Grimm fairytale waiting to happen.

  “Driver,” I said softly, “please wait for me when we get back. I'm just going to get my suitcases, and then could you please take me straight to the airport?”

  “Sure thing,” he said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Don't forget your plane ticket, miss.”

  “I won't.”

  And with that, I went online and bought a ticket home.

  Three hours later, I was looking at Hawaii from a window seat.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Lilah

  Nobody knew I was pregnant aside from Eddie and Meg, even though I was eleven weeks along. It had been over a month since Hawaii and I'd managed to conceal my growing bump by wearing the right clothes. Since I'd been curvy anyway, it hadn't been too difficult to hide. Pencil skirts and flowy tops became my new best friends. Still, I was aware that, eventually, it would reach a point that I would no longer be able to conceal it. Before that day came, I had some big decisions to make.

  I'd already started searching for a new job—in a new city.

  I had a tentative offer on the table, all the way across the continent. They were impressed with my desire to complete the campaign I was working on and not leave my company in limbo, and so they'd given me a month to think about it before negotiations regarding the position would begin.

  Thinking about it was exactly what I'd been doing. It would take me away from my beloved brother and my best friend Meg. But also far from Asher, and I honestly believed that was what I needed.

  Walking away from him after the amazing week spent in Hawaii had been one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do in my life, but I knew for the sake of my unborn child, I'd had to. Asher’s words played on a loop in my head. He didn’t want children.

  Then there were the images of his psychotic father's mugshots that kept popping into my dreams—or nightmares, rather. It was just too much of a risk to take. How could I be sure that he wouldn't treat me like his father had treated his mistress who he had forced to get an abortion? I already knew this child would become the center of my life, my world. I simply wasn't prepared to take any risks that might put my child in harm's way.

  With my heart ripping itself to shreds every time I'd seen him, I had cut Asher out of my life romantically. I'd put on my facade of cold indifference, and had played it cooler than I ever had before. I told him that Hawaii had been nothing more than a vacation fling.

  In the first few days after returning from Hawaii, he’d pleaded with me to at least talk to him, but I'd remained resolute and determined to not let him back in—even though my heart was breaking and my soul was crying out for him.

  I endured the pain in silence and forced myself to do what had to be done.

  He had finally seemed to have accepted how things were. From time to time, I caught brief glimpses of that same longing, that same desire I'd seen in his eyes when he made love to me in Hawaii, but mostly he kept things professional between us and communicated with me only when he had to.

  I'd nailed campaign after campaign. When it came to work, I was on fire. Asher had given me another raise, and word around the office was that I'd get another promotion soon, too. My career had never been better or more successful.

  And yet it felt as if it didn't matter. In fact, nothing felt as if it mattered much any more aside from the life growing inside me. There were only the memories of the times Asher and I had shared haunting me like restless ghosts.

  As I sat at my desk, lost in a daze of memories, my phone started buzzing in my pocket. I took it out to see Meg’s happy smile plastered on my phone.

  “Hey, Meg,” I answer.

  “Hey, Lilipop! How's Friday afternoon going for my favorite mommy-to-be?”

  “It's a bit tiring, to be honest. It's been a crazy busy week, and I'm looking forward to kicking back and relaxing this weekend.”

  “I hear ya. It's been a busy day at the office here, too. Hey, how would you feel about dinner?”

  “Really? You’re asking a pregnant woman if she wants to eat?” I joked. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  “Cool. How do you feel about sushi?”

  “Ugh! Yes! You know me so well. I swear this kid is going to love sushi. Meet you at our usual sushi spot at 7:00?”

  “Perfect! See you then!”

  “Sweet. Bye, Meg.”

  ***

  I checked the time on my phone again. It was only ten past 7:00, but it was very unusual for Meg to be late for anything. I considered calling her, but decided to wait another five minutes, just in case. Traffic had, after all, been particularly bad on the way here.

  I tapped the screen on my phone and reached for my water just as a familiar voice sounded behind me. A chill ran down my spine.

  “Well, well, well . . . Lilah Maxwell. Fancy meeting you here.”

  I turned around to find Brendan Savage leering down at me, a stunning woman hanging on his arm. Her eyes were glazed over; she looked as if she was high on something. She probably had to be to put up with this creep. He whispered something in her ear, and she sauntered away.

  Without asking, he sat down in the empty seat across from me at my table.

  “What do you want?” I snapped. “I didn't say you could sit there.”

  “Aw, come on now, is that how you treat an old, dear friend?”

  “You aren't my friend, and you never were.”

  “An old lover, then?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please. I never let you touch me even once, and with good reason. Now, I'm waiting for an actual friend. Go away. I'll gladly call the manager if you don't.”

  “Oh, is that a threat?” he smirked.

  “Not at all,” I assured him. “I fully intend to follow through.”

  “You think you're so much better than me, don't you? You and that prick boss of yours. Well, even though you two thought you got me, like the little Nancy Drew you thought you were, look at me. I'm walking around a free man with my reputation, intact despite your attempts to smear me in the press.”

  “I’d say that reputation is a matter of opinion. But what you do have left is only because you bought off a journalist and got him to write a spin piece. Let’s not forget,that I know how much you had to pay Asher in that settlement. How does it feel to lose your billionaire status? What are driving now, anyway? I heard you had to sell your precious Bugatti to cover some of the expenses.”

  He snarled, his facade of indifference broken.

  “You're one stone-col
d bitch, Lilah,” he hissed. “And you will get what’s coming to you. Don't think you're going to get away with what you did to me. You'd better sleep with one eye open.”

  I stared at him with cold contempt in my eyes. “You're pathetic, Brendan. Get up now and leave.”

  “I'll get up when—”

  I grabbed the sleeve of a passing waiter who happened to be a tall, burly young man whose heavy arms were covered with biker-style tattoos.

  “Excuse me, but this man has just sat down at my table uninvited, and he's harassing me and refusing to leave. Could you please call the manager?”

  The burly waiter glared aggressively at Brendan.

  “Do we have a problem here . . . sir?” he started. “Are you harassing this woman?”

  Rage burned red across Brendan's face, but he knew that he couldn’t afford to get into any more legal trouble. He stood, his hands clenched in anger.

  “No,” he hissed through tightly-drawn lips. “We don't have a problem. I was just leaving.”

  “See you around, Lilah,” he snarled.

  I didn't bother to respond.

  The waiter watched him go with a steely gaze, but his expression softened as soon as Brendan had left. “I'm so sorry, miss,” he said. “Are you all right? I'll bring you a free cocktail, on me, if you'd like.”

  I smiled. “Aw, aren't you sweet! No, but, thanks, dear, I'm fine. No alcohol for me anyway. Thank you for helping me out there.”

  “Not a problem,” he said. “I was a bouncer at a bar before this. I left that job because I got so sick of dealing with asses like that. I didn't think I'd have to deal with it here.”

  “I'm sure it was an isolated incident,” I commented. “Just a bit of bad luck, is all.”

  The waiter nodded, smiled, and walked off just as Meg arrived. She had a strange expression on her face.

  “Hey, there,” she said, glancing at the waiter. “Did I miss something?”

  “Hey, Megs, you're a bit late.”

  “Yeah. Uh, you didn't see anyone you know here, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know . . . Someone from your office. Someone from Sinclair.”

  “Nope. I did run into someone—but he wasn't from Sinclair. A certain sleazy ex-billionaire and I'd rather not think about him, if ya don’t mind.”

  “Hmm, all right.” She seemed almost disappointed, although I wasn't sure why. “Never mind,” she said. “Let's eat some sushi.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Asher

  I wasn't sure exactly what Meg had hoped to achieve by inviting me to meet her and Lilah at the sushi restaurant, but I'd gone along with it anyway. I'd chatted with her a few times since getting back from Hawaii, but Lilah had no idea she and I had talked. Meg had told me how Lilah really felt about me, and of course I'd told her about how I felt about Lilah.

  I'd hoped that, as Lilah's best friend, she was someone who would be able to convince Lilah of the depth of my feelings for her. But if she'd tried to change Lilah's mind about me, it hadn't worked. Since Hawaii, Lilah had remained as cold and indifferent as she ever had.

  I still hadn't been able to work out what had happened, or what I'd done wrong. We'd had the most amazing time together in Hawaii—and I'm not simply talking about sex, although it had been amazing.

  We'd done everything together over those few days. We'd eaten in wonderful restaurants, gone on long hikes, had a picnic, sunbathed on beaches, gone snorkeling together, sat by fires on the beach and watched the stars. It had been perfect . . . more perfect than I could ever remember anything in my life being.

  I'd awoken late on the final day, only to find she'd quietly packed her bags and left. Attempts to call and message her had been met with silence. At first, I'd tried to talk with her about it, to plead with her to give us a chance, to just see if our relationship could work. She had simply refused.

  So, I'd given up. Even though my heart still burned for her, I hadn't been able to do anything about it. It had been her choice, and that had been that.

  At least, until Meg contacted me. She seemed to believe that I still had a chance. I'd been skeptical—how could I not be? Still, I'd reluctantly agreed to give it a shot.

  So, there I was at sushi as requested. I'd seen Lilah's car in the parking lot, so I knew she was there. I walked in, hopeful, and then froze in my tracks at the sight that confronted me. Was this Meg's idea of a sick joke?! There was Lilah, all right—I could only see her from behind, but it was unmistakably her—and there, seated across from her at the restaurant table, smiling with that disgusting, smug grin of his, was Brendan Savage.

  I could only stand to see this scene for a few seconds. I knew if I didn't leave immediately, I would explode. With the awful sight burned into my mind, I spun around and stormed out of the restaurant.

  I'd seen everything I needed to see. All hope was finally dead—and buried.

  ***

  People all around the conference table were shifting uncomfortably in their chairs.

  “And, as you can see, sales figures are actually down on the BluShade campaign,” I explained with a frown.

  One person looked especially uncomfortable: Lilah.

  After seeing her with Brendan Savage at the sushi restaurant two weeks earlier, I hadn't been able to look her in the eye. As successful as she'd been playing the ice queen, well, I'd managed to trump it. I had turned myself into the ice god. I'd been colder to her than I'd ever been to any human being in my life. It pained me to do it, but I didn't know how else to deal with the hurt, the betrayal.

  “Ms. Maxwell,” I said coolly. “This is your campaign. And, it's turning out to be a failure. Do you have anything to say?”

  “I'm . . . I'm sorry,” she half whispered.

  “Sorry doesn't cut it in this arena,” I hissed. “Maybe if you paid more attention to your work instead of your boyfriend, these numbers might be a bit different and these sales figures wouldn't be looking quite so abysmal.”

  She stood, tears flooding her eyes, and I could hear her fighting down the sobs rising up her throat. I couldn't believe I'd just said that—and I don't think she could believe it, either. A terrible, stabbing pain shot through my heart. What had I done?

  “Excuse me,” she muttered, and stormed out, burying her face in her hands.

  Everyone fell silent, and an uncomfortable heat flooded through me.

  “God, I’m an ass,” I whispered without thinking about everyone in the room. “That's, um, that's all for today's meeting,” I said softly. “You can all go.”

  Everyone left quickly and I hurried straight to Lilah's office. I'd gone too far, way too far. All of this had to end. I couldn't keep up this awful charade any longer. Something had to give.

  I knocked on the door, but she didn’t answer. “Lilah?” I called out. All I heard was a groan from within. Something wasn't right. “Lilah, are you all right?”

  Still no answer. I tried to open the door, but it was locked.

  “Lilah, answer me!” I cried out, a sharp edge of worry and concern lacing my tone.

  My tone was not one of anger, but of sharp, worried concern.

  “Shit. Lilah, are you okay? I’m coming in.”

  I stepped back, breathed in deeply, and then unleashed a savage Muay Thai kick on the door. The lock smashed instantly and the door swung open.

  I gasped at the sight of Lilah curled up in a ball on the floor near her desk, whimpering in pain and clutching her stomach. A pool of dark blood was slowly spreading around her.

  “Oh Jesus, oh my God,” I gasped. “Come on, we're going, we're going to the ER right now.” I wasn’t about to wait for an ambulance. I could have her at the hospital before they could even get to us.

  I bent down and scooped her into my arms as gently as I could, then sprinted to the elevator. I called out for my new assistant to let the police department know there would be a white Ferrari driving like a bat out of hell to St. Patrick’s Hospital.

&n
bsp; I was glad I'd driven my Ferrari to work—we were going to have to get to the hospital as fast as humanly possible. As soon as I got into the parking garage, I dashed over to the Ferrari, put her gently in the passenger seat, then screamed the motor and raced off to the ER.

  ***

  I had been pacing around the waiting room for almost an hour and had been given no word on what was going on. I'd called Meg a few times, but had only been able to reach her ten minutes earlier. She was calling Eddie and was on her way.

  Finally, the doctor emerged. I couldn't get an immediate reading from his expression because of the surgical mask covering his face.

  “You're here with Ms. Maxwell, yes?” he asked.

  “Yes. What can you tell me?”

  “Well, the good news is that your daughter is going to be just fine.”

  “My daughter? Lilah isn't my daughter.”

  “No, I mean your unborn daughter. You are the baby's father, I presume?”

  The news nearly knocked the wind from me. Two words and my entire world turned upside down. Your daughter. Two words explained everything. Everything!

  I tried to play it cool. I needed to know Lilah was going to be okay. “Oh, um, yes, yes, I'm the father. A daughter, yeah. Wow, a daughter.”

  The tilted his head a little. “I take it you didn’t know you were having a girl.”

  I shook my head. “How’s Lilah? Is she okay?”

  “That’s the bad news, I’m afraid. Ms. Maxwell cannot work again until after the child is born. It's obvious that she's been under far too much stress recently, and if she keeps pushing herself like this, the likelihood of a miscarriage severely increases. I know that this type of situation can sometimes cause more stress due to financial burdens, so pardon me for asking, but are you able to support yourself and her on your income alone?”

  “That will not be a problem, Doctor, I assure you.”

  “Good. Because I'm going to have to insist that she does not go back to work. I'll talk to her employer myself if I have to.”