Billionaire Baby Daddy

“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.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I'll take care of it.”

“Good. She really must rest.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome. I'll check in on her later. You can see her in about ten minutes when the nurses are finished checking her vitals.”

“Of course.”

He walked off, and I was staggering on my feet. I grabbed a chair, unsure of my ability to stand. Leaning over, I rested my elbows on my knees and shoved my hands roughly through my hair, completely overwhelmed. I was going to be a dad. We were having a daughter!

“I guess you know the news now, huh?”

I looked up and saw Meg standing in front of me.

“I . . . I'm going to be a father,” I managed to utter in disbelief.

“Yes. Yes, you are,” she confirmed.

“Why didn't she tell me about this? Or you? You could have told me.”

She looked suddenly ashamed. “Look, I need to let you in on a few things,” she said, and sat down next me. She proceeded to explain everything about how Lilah had felt, from the very first time she and I had kissed, right up until the present. She told me about Lilah’s fears that I would be like my father—a risk that she hadn’t been willing to take with regard to her child. Our child.

“I understand why that might have concerned her,” I said, “but I would never do that. I love Lilah. When I say I'm not like my father, I not only mean it, but I can also prove it if she’ll let me.

“Hell, I even have medical documentation to back it up. My grandfather was a very thorough man. Even though he knew in his heart that I was nothing like my father, he was also a logical man and knew that intuition wasn't always concrete. He needed proof.

“So, before signing over the company to me in his will, he made me undergo a barrage of psychiatric tests to just confirm that there was no evidence of sociopathy, psychopathy, or violence in my personality. I passed with flying colors. I truly am nothing like my father. Looks are the only thing I share with that monster.”

Tears rimmed Meg's eyes. “I knew it. Somehow, I just knew it. And, I think she knows it, too. She just needs to hear it. Asher, she loves you. She hasn’t said the words, but I see it in her eyes when she talks about you. That's why I invited you for sushi. I wanted you two to talk—really talk. But you bailed! You didn't even show up. Why?”

“I did—but she was there with Savage. I just . . . I just assumed.”

“You know what they say about assumptions, Asher. They're the mother of all fu—”

“I know,” I said, ashamed. “But why was he there?”

“It was a total chance encounter. And, he was harassing her like the ass hat that he is. She called a waiter to have him thrown out of the restaurant. If you'd stuck around for longer than ten seconds, you would have seen that. Hell, you could have saved her yourself, instead of letting some waiter do it.”

“Damn. I’m sorry. I wish I had.”

“There’s just one other thing,” Meg announced.

“I don’t like the sound of tha

t.”

“Yeah. Well, do you remember on the flight to Hawaii when you told Lilah that you didn’t want children?”

My head fell back against the wall and I slumped in my chair. “Damn. I did say that. But I didn’t mean it—not like that.”

“Well, here’s your chance to tell her and patch things up. You’ll have plenty of time for making it up to her . . . as in the rest of your lives, with your beautiful daughter.”