Baby for the Bosshole

“Is she richer than you? Maybe well connected in some way that could help your business? That’s the only reason to marry somebody.”

I actually feel sorry for all the women who dated Dad. He’s awful, too self-centered. He wouldn’t know what a true emotion was if it came and kicked him in the balls. God must’ve been in an ironic mood when He gave Dad the ability to stir deep feelings through movies.

“I don’t want to marry her for money or connections,” I say quietly.

He looks truly confused. “So you’re doing it for the baby?”

“The baby needs its mother and father, who love and care about its wellbeing.”

“That still doesn’t mean you have to marry her.” He gestures in the general direction where we left Amy with Mom and my brothers. “You don’t have to do any of that to make sure your kid doesn’t starve on the streets!”

This must be some fucked-up way that he’s trying to actually be a good dad. The sole fatherly intervention he’s decided to force upon me.

He’s right—I don’t have to marry Amy. She already offered joint custody. But I don’t want the possibility of her marrying somebody else, having that other guy be the father figure my kid sees every day.

Actually, forget the baby. The idea that knots my gut is simply Amy with somebody else. It’s been going on ever since she joined GrantEm Capital. That’s why I made her wo

rk late so often, especially on the days and weekends she had plans.

“Look, I’ll get you a good lawyer. I’ll even pay for it. You can take the calf without the cow, no problem,” Dad says.

“As magnanimous as that offer is, no. You aren’t going to do that. As a matter of fact, you aren’t going to go anywhere near Amy or me or our baby.”

“What?” He stares at me like I just called his latest movie boring.

“We’re done, Dad. If you can’t respect me—or my girl—I don’t want you around.”

Chapter Forty-Four

Amy

I stay rooted to the spot while Emmett and Ted Lasker walk away. Huxley and Noah continue to stare, and Emma looks at me with pity. My face burns, embarrassment churning in my gut.

I slowly go over what Emmett’s dad said and did. He doesn’t want to know me—at all. The only thing he’s interested in is the fact that I’m pregnant with Emmett’s baby.

No, it’s more than that. He said he knew Emmett would come through. When did he ask Emmett to make a grandbaby? Is that why Emmett didn’t use the condom that time?

But that doesn’t make sense, because he used them every other time. Then again, they could have been expired or compromised in some way.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. My head is throbbing painfully, and I need a moment to gather my thoughts. I can’t do it here. Not while Emmett’s family is watching. Not while this crowd is hollering and cheering and yelling.

I want to go home, shower, get under the covers, hug Okumasama and lick my emotional wounds while I figure out what the hell has really happened between me and Emmett.

Since Emmett drove me here, I need to call an Uber. I start to pull out my phone, but Emma is quicker.

“Do you want to stay and wait for my son or do you prefer to jet out?” Her tone is gentle—no judgment, just sympathy.

It’s easy to respond honestly. “I’d like to go home.”

“Let me give you a ride, then.”

“You should stay. Won’t Ted want you around?”

“Oh, I already said hello. He won’t care if I leave.” She shrugs.

I want to turn her down and take an Uber driven by a stranger who has no idea what the heck just happened here.

“Ubers aren’t allowed to come to the main door. You’ll have to make a long walk through the garden to the main gate,” Emma says, clearly reading my reluctance.