Twins for the Billionaire

by Sarah M. Anderson

  Her anxiety tried to wrestle control, but she powered through. “Actually, I’m your nine a.m. I’m here about the job.” He blinked at her. “The opening for office manager?” she prompted him.

  “Oh, oh—right.” He glanced around, as if he was also just becoming aware of how this conversation might look to his employees. “This office could definitely use some management. Come on back.” He cast a critical eye around and people seemed to melt back into their offices but he did so with a faint smile on his face. Sofia caught the receptionist grinning and rolling her eyes. Eric saw it, too, and said, “All right, Heather—back to work.”

  “Of course, Mr. Jenner,” Heather the receptionist said, still smiling. She had perfectly white, perfectly even teeth, which was almost enough to distract Sofia from the sly way she winked.

  Eric winked back.

  Sofia’s heart began to pound again. What did she know about him, really? The boy he’d been had been someone privileged and wealthy but still kind to a little girl. He’d taught her how to swim and roller-skate and had, on more than one occasion, played tea with her and some of his mother’s delicate china dolls.

  But that didn’t mean he was the same person now. Yes, he was rich, handsome—and single. Of course he would make eyes at the beautiful young receptionist. And the beautiful young receptionist—well, she wasn’t stupid. Of course she would make eyes back.

  Sofia had just begun to feel invisible when Eric turned back to her. “I had no idea you were applying for this job,” he said, motioning for her to follow him. “Tell me about your husband. Who was lucky enough to land Sofia Cortés?”

  He said it in a way that was almost believable, the kind of benign flirting a man like Eric no doubt excelled at. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t run-of-the-mill small talk to Sofia. All she could do was keep breathing.

  She didn’t say anything until he led her back into his office. The room was huge, with leather couches and a massive mahogany desk, plus a wet bar. And behind it all was a wall of glass facing due east. He had an almost perfectly unobstructed view of Lake Michigan. She didn’t sell downtown real estate, but even she knew this view was worth millions.

  He closed the door behind her. For a moment, they stood with less than two feet separating them. Sofia became acutely aware of the heat of his body and it made her flush in a way that hadn’t happened in months. Years.

  “What an amazing vista,” she said, striving for lighthearted—and willing him away from conversation about David. Willing away the heat she couldn’t seem to ignore.

  Eric Jenner was every inch the billionaire bachelor. There was no doubt in her mind that his suit was custom-made—everything he wore was probably custom-made, right down to his socks. He’d paired a bold royal blue suit with a light pink shirt and a silk tie that probably cost as much as her car payment. It all fit him like a second skin.

  A forgotten feeling began to pulse through her body, a steady pounding that got louder with each beat. For a dazed moment, she didn’t recognize it.

  Desire. That’s what this tight, hot heaviness was. Want. She’d forgotten she could feel this way anymore. She’d thought...well, she’d thought she’d buried her needs with her husband.

  The realization that she could still feel raw attraction was startling enough. But the fact that her body was feeling desire for Eric? Her cheeks got hotter by the second and here in the privacy of his office, there weren’t any winking receptionists or dinging elevators to distract his attention.

  He stared at her, his eyes darkening. Her lungs refused to expand and she began to feel light-headed. She couldn’t want Eric and he shouldn’t be looking at her like that. That wasn’t why she’d come.

  “You’ve done well for yourself,” she blurted out, making a conscious effort to look around the room. Photographs of him with famous people were mixed in with expensive-looking paintings and pictures of his buildings.

  After a pause that was so quiet she was sure he could hear her pulse pounding, he said, “Was there any doubt?”

  It sounded so cocky that she jerked back to look at him. He had a wolf’s grin on his face, but then everything about him softened and she almost saw the boy she’d known. “I work hard for what I have, but let’s be honest—I started from a place higher than almost everyone else, thanks to my parents.”

  A little bit of the anxiety loosened in her chest. Yes, he had always been the privileged son of privileged people. But the Eric she remembered had been almost embarrassed by that fact. His parents hadn’t raised him to be an entitled, spoiled brat. How much of that boy still existed inside of him? Or was he the kind of man who hired a beautiful receptionist—or even a mildly attractive office manager—just to get her in bed?

  She didn’t want him to be like that. If he was, she wasn’t sure she could destroy her fondest memories of him with reality. “How are your parents? I know they still exchange Christmas cards with my parents.”

  Eric sighed, an action of extreme exaggeration that made him look younger. “They’re fine. They’re disappointed I didn’t manage to get married and start producing grandchildren, but they’re fine.” Before she could process that statement, he asked, “Your folks?”

  “Doing well. I don’t know how much your parents have shared with you, but after you went away to school, my father started selling houses. Your father opened the door for him,” she added, always mindful of what the Jenners had done for her family. “It turned out there was a huge market for bilingual real estate agents and Dad was able to capitalize on that. He owns an agency in Wicker Park. Mom stays home with my children now. They spoil each other rotten.”

  His eyes widened before he turned away from her and strode toward his desk. Each step put physical distance between them—but there was no missing the emotional distance that went up like a wall around him.

  This was all casual small talk, every bit of it. But there was something else going on that Sofia couldn’t put her finger on. When he’d complained about his parents wanting grandbabies, it hadn’t sounded quite right. And the look in his eyes when she’d mentioned her kids? On anyone else it would’ve been longing. She couldn’t believe that someone like Eric Jenner, who literally had the world at his feet, would be interested in an old acquaintance’s babies.

  He didn’t sit at the desk, didn’t turn around. Instead, he stared out at the lake. Although it was still early, she could see a few boats out on the water, ready to enjoy the beautiful summer day. “I hadn’t heard that you’d gotten married. Congratulations.” His voice was level—unfeeling, almost.

  “Oh.” She couldn’t help the dejected noise that escaped. Eric half turned, his silhouette outlined in sunshine. “I’m not. I mean, I was. But he...he died.” No matter how long it’d been, her voice caught every time she had to state that fact out loud. “Seventeen months ago.” Not that she was counting the days—the hours—since the worst day of her life.

  She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. If she did this quickly, it wouldn’t hurt so badly. That was the theory, anyway. “I don’t know if you’d ever heard of him—David Bingham? We worked at a real estate agency up in Evanston.”

  He turned and took a step toward her and for a second, she thought he was going to fold her into his arms and she was going to let him. But he pulled up short. “Sofia,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. How are you doing?”

  That wasn’t small talk. That was an honest question from one of her oldest friends. God, she’d missed Eric.

  It was so tempting to lie and smooth over the awkward moment with platitudes. Lord knew Eric was probably looking for an easy answer.

  But none of her answers were easy. “That’s why I’m here. My twins are—”

  “Twins?” he cut her off, his eyes bugging out of his head. “How old?”

  “Fifteen months.”

 
He let out a low whistle of appreciation as his gaze traveled the length of her body. Her cheeks warmed at his leisurely inspection but then his face shuttered again. “I can’t even imagine how difficult that must have been for you. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “I...thank you. It’s been hard. Which,” she went on before he could distract her from her purpose again with his kind eyes and kinder words, “is why I’m here. David and I sold houses together and since he passed I just...can’t. I need a job with regular hours and a steady paycheck to provide for my children.” There. She’d gotten her spiel out and it’d only hurt a little.

  “What are their names?”

  “Adelina and Eduardo, although I call them Addy and Eddy—which my mom hates.” She pulled her phone out of her handbag and called up the most recent picture, of the twins in the bath with matching grins, wet hair sticking straight up. “They’re officially toddlers now. Mom watches them but I think she’s outnumbered most days. I’d love to hire a nanny to help out.” And pay off the bills that were piling up and put a little away for the kids’ college funds and...

  The list of problems money would solve for her was long. Even at the best of times, real estate involved odd hours and an unpredictable income. But if an agent couldn’t sell a house without sobbing in the car, then the income got very predictable. Zero.

  Eric took the phone. She watched him carefully as he tilted the screen and studied their little faces. “They look like you,” he said. “Beautiful.”

  Her face flushed at the sincere compliment. “Thank you. They’ve kept me going.”

  Because if she hadn’t had two helpless little babies that needed to be fed and rocked and loved, she might’ve curled into a ball and given up. The numbing depression and crushing panic attacks were never far, but Addy and Eddy were more than just her children. They were David’s children—all she had left of him. She couldn’t let him down. She couldn’t let herself down.

  So she’d kept moving forward—one day, one hour, sometimes even just one minute at a time. It’d gotten easier. That didn’t make it easy, though.

  Eric stared at the shot of her babies for a long moment before finally motioning Sofia to one of the plush leather seats before his desk. “And you want to try your hand at office management? This isn’t a typical real estate office.”

  She lifted her chin again. “Mr. Jenner—”

  “Eric, Sofia. We know each other too well for formalities, don’t you think?” It was a challenge, the way he said it. “I’m not sure I could think of you as Mrs. Bingham, anyway. You’ll always be Sofia Cortés to me.”

  She understood because she wanted to keep him as that fun, sweet boy in her mind forever. But she couldn’t afford to romanticize the potential billionaire employer sitting behind his executive desk and she couldn’t afford to let him romanticize her.

  “That’s who I was,” she said, her words coming out more gently than she meant for them to. “But that’s not who I am now. We’ve grown up, you and I. We’re not the same kids splashing in the pool we used to be and I need this job.”

  His gaze met hers and she saw something there that she didn’t want to think too deeply about. “Then it’s yours.”

  Two

  This was a mistake. Eric knew it before the words had left his mouth. But by then, it was too late.

  He had just offered the position of office manager to a woman he wasn’t entirely sure was qualified.

  That was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Because it wasn’t some random woman off the street. It was Sofia Cortés. He’d practically grown up with her.

  But this wasn’t the little girl he remembered from his childhood. The woman before him was—well, she was all grown up. Despite the suit jacket and skirt she wore, Eric couldn’t help but notice her body. Sofia was a woman in every sense. She came almost to his chin, her thick black hair pulled away from her face. Eric had an unreasonable urge to sink his fingers into her hair and tilt her head to the side, exposing the long line of her neck.

  He shook that thought out of his head. Why hadn’t his mother told him Sofia had gotten married and had twins, much less that her husband had died? Surely Mom knew. If nothing else, those were the sorts of things that tended to make a Christmas newsletter.

  “Are you... Are you sure?” Sofia asked, looking stunned.

  Eric felt much the same. He always did a thorough investigation of a candidate’s skills. Even when he knew he wanted to hire them anyway, like Heather for the position of receptionist. Not only did she have the perfect look for the face of his company, but she was finishing her MBA on the company’s dime. He hadn’t hired her just because she was hot, although that never hurt. He’d hired her because she was brilliant and would transition into the contracts department. It was never too early to begin building loyalty and Eric’s staff was beyond loyal.

  That was something he’d learned from his father. Nurture the best talent and pay them well and they’d fight for you. Wasn’t that why Sofia was here? Because the Jenner family had supported the Cortés family?

  “Of course,” he said with a certainty he wasn’t sure was warranted. “Can you do the job?”

  The color deepened along her cheeks. He was not going to notice how pretty it was on her. She didn’t look like a widow with two adorable young children.

  She looked...lush. And tempting.

  He would not be tempted. One of his hard and fast rules was that he didn’t hit on staff. Flirt, maybe. But he never put a valued employee in a position where they felt they couldn’t say no because he was the boss.

  What a shame he was hiring Sofia, then. Because that would put her completely out of reach. Which was fine. Good. She was undoubtedly still struggling with being a widow and a single mother. She didn’t need the complications that seemed to follow Eric like shadows cast by the afternoon sun.

  Sofia cleared her throat. “I’m a quick study. I helped run my dad’s office when I was in school and staged homes part-time in college. I’ve been selling ever since I graduated.” She dropped her gaze and cleared her throat. “Until...”

  What had she said? Seventeen months since she had been left a widow. And her twins—two of the cutest babies he had ever seen—were fifteen months old.

  Eric’s world was one of logic and calculation. Real estate was a gamble on the best of days. But he always weighed the pros and cons of any option and he never bet more than he could afford to lose.

  Of course, as a billionaire, he could afford to lose a lot.

  Somehow, none of the usual checks and balances weighed much with this decision. Sofia was an old friend. Her family were good people. And those babies...

  “The job is yours. There’ll be a learning curve, I’m sure, but I’m confident you’ll pick it up.” Either Sofia would or she wouldn’t. He had to give her that chance. And if she didn’t, then he’d help her find a position that better fit her skill set. Something with regular hours and a paycheck that would help her raise her toddlers by herself. And if that happened...then she wouldn’t work for him, would she? He could get to know her all over again. Every inch of her.

  Hell. He was not thinking about Sofia—not like that. Especially because he was still hiring her. It was the right thing to do.

  Her eyes were huge, but she managed a smile. “That’s...that’s wonderful.”

  “We have a generous benefits package,” he went on, pulling a number out of thin air. “The starting salary is a hundred and twenty thousand a year, with bonuses based on performance. Is it enough?”

  Her mouth dropped open and she looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. He could afford to pay well because hiring the best people was worth it in the long run. But he honestly couldn’t tell from her expression if she was insulted by that amount or flabbergasted.

  “You can’t be serious,” she sai
d in a strangled voice.

  Eric raised an eyebrow at her. A couple extra thousand for him was nothing. Pocket change. “How about a hundred and forty-five?”

  She got alarmingly pale. “Your negotiation skills are rusty,” she finally croaked out, a hand pressed to her chest. “You’re not supposed to go up, certainly not by twenty-five thousand. A hundred and twenty is enough. More than enough.”

  Eric cracked a grin at her. “And your negotiation skills...” He trailed off, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “That would’ve been the point to say make it one fifty and it’s a deal. Are you sure you sold houses?” She got even paler and he realized teasing her was not the smartest thing to do. In fact, she looked like she was on the verge of fainting. “Are you all right?” He moved to the wet bar and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water. She was breathing heavily by the time he made his way back to her. “Sofia?”

  He set the water on the desk and put his fingers on the side of her neck. Her pulse fluttered weakly under his touch and her skin was clammy. “Breathe,” he ordered, pushing her head down toward her knees. He crouched next to her. “Sofia? Honey, breathe.”

  They sat like that for several minutes while he rubbed her back and tried his best to sound soothing. What the hell had happened? Normally, when he offered people more money, they jumped to say yes.

  But this woman had actually tried to say no.

  He focused on smoothing her hair away from her forehead, on how her muscles tensed and relaxed along her spine as he rubbed her back. Even through her jacket, he could feel the warmth of her body. He couldn’t imagine touching anyone else like this.

  She was still struggling for air. Was this a medical crisis? He felt for her pulse again. It was steady enough. He needed to distract her. “Remember the sailboat races?” he asked. But he didn’t pull his hand away from her. He stayed close.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “You let me win sometimes.”

  “Let you? Come on, Sofia. You beat me fair and square.”