Marrying My Billionaire Boss

by Lee, Nadia

  I note that my mom has arrived, too. She’s dressed in her Sunday best—a beige dress with a pleated skirt and low pumps—and is chatting with a slim brunette by a huge flower arrangement near the fireplace.

  Relief floods through me. Nate sent a plane and a driver, but I wasn’t sure if they’d made it to the mansion yet. I feel slightly guilty that I haven’t checked up on her even once today.

  “Excuse me. I should say hi to my mom.” I need to get her away from the crowd and get some advice. Mom will know what to do.

  Justin comes inside, carrying a huge plate laden with hamburgers and hot dogs. Nate follows, his platter heavy with grilled corn on the cob and a few chicken breasts.

  “Is Barron still hogging the grill?” Blanche asks from her armchair.

  “Yes.” Justin rolls his eyes.

  “The man acts like he’s never seen a grill before,” Nate says, then looks at me. “You feeling better?”

  “Much,” I lie, because what else can I say? I can’t tell him I’m pregnant, especially not in front of everyone. I haven’t had time to process that bombshell myself.

  “Daddy!” Ryan appears, running toward Justin.

  “Hey, buddy!” Justin says. Someone takes his plate, and Justin sweeps his child up into the air. “How you doing? Having fun?”

  “Yeah! Daddy, did you know that you can get a cross if you pee on a stick?”

  I suck air in hard as the world seems to tilt. That little shit!

  Justin looks at his son, utterly bemused. “Uh… What exactly were you doing outside?”

  “No, not like that kind of stick. It’s white. Has a rectangle.”

  Vanessa walks up. “Is he talking about a pregnancy test?”

  “But I can’t do it,” Ryan continues, “even if I set my mind to it. But you said I can do anything I want if I work really hard.”

  Justin pulls his lips in, but his mouth is twitching. “Ah, okay. Well, you know, you can, uh, usually, although—”

  Ryan doesn’t want to hear about “although.” He turns a triumphant face toward me. “See? You’re wrong!”

  Oh my God. My mouth goes dry.

  “Wrong about what?” Barron booms, closing the door to the deck behind him. Why couldn’t he have continued to hog the damned grill?

  “She said I can’t pee on a stick and get a cross, like she did.”

  A scream gets tangled in my throat. I don’t think I can breathe. Or, at least, that’s how it feels from the roaring in my head and the tightness in my chest.

  “A cross…?” Nate’s gaze swings toward me.

  My heart racing, I stagger back a step, feeling like the world is collapsing on me.

  Barron also turns fully in my direction, and somebody gasps. I think it’s my mom.

  “She made a cross on her stick!” Ryan says accusingly. “But when I peed on mine, it didn’t work.”

  Why don’t you say it louder, so everyone in Los Angeles can hear you?

  Justin starts walking into another room with Ryan, who squirms around and maintains eye contact with me over his shoulder. “I can so do it!” he screams.

  “Oh my goodness, are you pregnant?” Vanessa’s voice seems to come from someplace far away.

  I’m so not ready to deal with this. And I’m certainly not ready to talk about it in front of Nate’s family when I haven’t even told Nate.

  I try to tell them it isn’t the time for a group discussion, but my tongue isn’t doing such a great job of making words. My vision dims, and then everything goes black.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Nate

  My vision narrows, my heart accelerating like it’s trying to win a drag race. The platter in my hands hits the floor as I dive for Evie’s crumpling body.

  Dane lunges forward as well, and I slam into his solid shoulder. The impact jars my teeth, and we fall on the floor in a tangle of limbs and testosterone. But at least Evie doesn’t hit the marble. She lands in my arms, and I feel more victorious than a running back catching a Super Bowl-winning pass.

  “Whoa. I’ve never had a fan faint at the sight of me before,” comes Ryder’s voice.

  It’s all I can do to not roll my eyes. I usually find him funny, but it’s irritating as hell when I’m holding an ultra-pale Evie. “Who invited the Hollywood star? Now we’re all going to need to clear out to make room for his ego.”

  “Somebody call a doctor!” Barron thunders.

  Vanessa already has her phone out. “On it.”

  “I mean,” Ryder says, looking around to see who else understands the significance, “she actually fainted.”

  I put a finger under Evie’s nose. She’s breathing shallowly, but her skin feels a little cool against my palm. Is she supposed to be like this? And is it normal for pregnant women to faint? I’ve heard of fainting goats, but never of fainting expectant moms.

  Then my mind pulls me back to the bombshell announcement Ryan made. Baby. She’s pregnant. I stare at her stomach, which is still perfectly flat. When did it happen? How?

  In Vegas? But I don’t remember, and I’m pretty certain Evie doesn’t either, so how did it happen?

  On the other hand, just because we don’t remember doesn’t mean we didn’t do it. We don’t remember vowing to love and cherish each other forever, either, but still ended up with wedding bands on our fingers.

  Just what the hell really happened in Vegas?

  And God, Evie and I need to be alone, someplace private, so we can talk. After she’s finished with her fainting spell. How do you wake someone up, anyway? I’m pretty sure a kiss on the mouth isn’t it, contrary to the fairytales.

  Ryan comes running back into the room. “Am I in trouble?”

  I turn my head and see him staring at Evie with his eyes big and shimmering with unshed tears.

  “No,” I say, standing up and carrying her to a couch so she can lie more comfortably.

  Vanessa puts a pillow under Evie’s head, and I arrange her on the long leather cushions.

  “You did nothing wrong,” Barron adds, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s small shoulder. “She just isn’t feeling well.”

  She hasn’t been eating that well, either. I should’ve known something was up; she’s barely even nibbled at her breakfast the last few days, while worriedly eyeing me gobbling up Mom’s bacon and eggs. Why would she have done that, unless her stomach felt wrong and she was wondering how I could eat like an oblivious horse? Or maybe she had something to tell me but didn’t know how to approach it while I was shoveling food into my mouth.

  “So this is why you eloped,” Sophia says.

  Dane nods. “Makes perfect sense.” He’d agree with anything his wife said.

  “I can’t believe this.”

  Looking up, I see Evie’s mom. I introduced myself when my driver brought her here because I couldn’t find Evie. I can only imagine how it looks to Mari Parker. If I had a daughter and some boss of hers got her pregnant, I’d beat him to death, especially if he eloped with her. My daughter deserves a real wedding, damn it! And things need to be done in the proper order—first the wedding, then babies.

  Everyone—every adult, anyway—is looking at me expectantly. Part of my brain says I need to make an announcement about the baby now. Play the happy soon-to-be daddy. Except I’m still trying to process the surprise.

  At the same time, a wrong move here might bring the wrath of my family down on Evie. I’d rather lose an arm than to let anything happen to her. Talking with her and figuring things out can wait.

  So I paste on a slightly abashed smile. “Yeah, well… We’re expecting our first child. She was late, and I told her to wait to see her doctor, but I guess she just couldn’t.” Then I sigh and roll my eyes in a “what can you do when your pregnant wife’s being crazy impatient?” way.

  “Smart girl!” Barron says. “Why wait when you don’t have to? I’m glad she found out now, Nate. Now we can celebrate not only to welcome Evie, but a brand-new Sterling as well!”


  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Evie

  My vision goes from black to gray. An improvement. Then the gray slowly becomes paler, resolving until I have a clear view of the faces above mine.

  Lots of faces. I recognize Mom and Nate, then a few others. But even if I’ve met them before, my brain’s overwhelmed at so many people hovering over me.

  “Everyone, if you’d pull back a bit. Let’s give the expectant mother some air,” says a middle-aged woman.

  “She’s right. We don’t want to suck all her air like some oxygen-stealing parasites,” Barron says, gesturing for everyone to take several steps back.

  Nate doesn’t move away. He is still holding my hand, looking at me with anxiety twisting his face. For a moment, I have no idea why he’s looking at me like that. Does he have something to say? And why am I lying on a couch? I didn’t take a nap or…

  Then I remember. Oh, crap! No, no, no! Ryan told everyone I’m pregnant. Okay, he said I peed on a stick and made a cross appear, but the adults know exactly what that means.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I need to go back to into a faint so I can figure out what I’m going to say, how I’m going to deal with Nate’s family now. And Nate… He really deserved to be told in private. We should’ve had some time to discuss how we plan to work things out with the baby.

  Hell. I don’t even know how this baby happened.

  “Is she okay?” Nate asks the middle-aged woman.

  “She’s fine. Her blood pressure seems okay, although it’s a little low. She’s also slightly dehydrated. Low blood sugar, too, most likely, if she’s been throwing up.”

  Nate’s gaze swings in my direction. Barron makes a displeased noise, then glares at Nate like it’s all his fault.

  “I’m fine,” I declare, sitting up to prove it. “I haven’t been throwing up. I just didn’t have much appetite today. My fault, really.”

  Mom holds my hand. “You need to take care of yourself better.” Instead of just your husband is left unsaid, but I don’t need to hear the words to know what’s on her mind.

  “Here.” Vanessa gives me a tall glass of pee-colored liquid. “Sports drink. Helps with hydration.”

  “Thanks.” I smile at her, then at everyone else. See, I’m fine. I down the entire glass for their benefit, too. Thankfully, it doesn’t taste the way it looks.

  “She should see an obstetrician,” the doctor says as she starts to pack up her things. “I’m sure you want nothing but the most expert care.”

  An obstetrician? Oh lord. That makes the baby feel nine billion times more real than the result screens on the pregnancy test kits.

  “You’ll take her to one tomorrow,” Barron says to Nate.

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” I point out.

  Barron looks at me like I’m slow. “And?”

  “Doctors don’t work on Sundays.”

  He gives a booming laugh. “My dear. They do for a Sterling baby.”

  My shoulders sag with shock as the words sinks into me. A Sterling baby.

  I make a mental note to follow Blanche’s child-rearing method and make sure my baby spends as little time as possible with Barron. Otherwise the kid’s going to end up as an insufferable and entitled little brat.

  Barron turns to the others. “We need cigars and drinks! Justin, bring out your best.”

  “Already done,” says a tall, handsome man in a carelessly cheery voice.

  I squint, unsure if I’m seeing correctly. He looks remarkably like Ryder Reed. Actually, they look so alike, he could play Ryder Reed in movies.

  He pours everyone—except me and the children—two fingers of something amber. Justin passes out cigars to the men, although Barron declares they shouldn’t really smoke around me for the health of the mother and the baby.

  Nate takes his glass and sits next to me, holding my hand like the most devoted expectant dad. Someone hands me some ginger ale.

  “To Nate and Evie. May their marriage be happy and everlasting. And thank you for making my wish come true.” Barron beams. “I really wanted another grandchild. Boy or girl, I don’t care which. Well, actually, I’d prefer a girl this time, as we already have two male baby Sterlings. Add a little balance. But that doesn’t mean I’ll love a boy any less…should it be a boy.”

  I smile uncertainly, unsure if he’s trying to will me into having a girl to make himself happy or if he’s just rambling. We all toast, clinking glasses.

  Nate starts to bring his drink to his lips, and I put a hand on his arm.

  “What?” he says.

  Now everyone’s looking at us. I sigh. It’s so hard to be the responsible adult in a relationship. He’s old enough to know he talks too much when he’s drunk. “You had at least three beers outside, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So. This is going to be your fourth drink. And hard liquor, too.”

  Nate looks like he’s torn between laughing and crying, and now I feel like a party pooper. “I mean, maybe another is okay…if it’s no more than three sips?”

  “Are you both giving up alcohol until the baby’s born?” Elizabeth asks.

  “No. Um. I just didn’t want him to over-imbibe.”

  The Ryder lookalike snorts. “He’s no Pryce, but the guy can hold his liquor. Probably better than anyone outside the family.”

  What?

  Nate shifts his weight. “Is that an appropriate thing to say in front of the kids?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  My dehydrated, low-blood-sugar, hormone-addled brain finally catches up. “You can have more than three?” And oh my God, that really is Ryder Reed.

  Nate looks like he’d love to have a lawyer answer the question. “Well…something like that.”

  “The question is, three what,” Justin says. “Bottles? Vats? Wine casks?”

  I stare at Nate. Why would he lie about this? He’s had me booze-block him for months…for what? He had to know the truth would come out and we would both look silly.

  I look down, and my gaze lands on my belly. Nate’s family seems to think it’s just a normal baby Nate and I remember having made. But the thing is…even if I lie about it, the truth is going to come out soon enough, because who knows what kind of conclusions Nate is going to draw once we start talking? He’ll have to think that it isn’t the first time somebody used a baby to trap him. Didn’t he say Georgette did the same thing with a fake pregnancy? Mine’s not fake, but he might wonder whose baby it is.

  If I were him, I would.

  The right thing to do is come clean. My muddy brain knows that much.

  “You know…I need to say something about this baby,” I say. “I know it’s awkward, but—”

  Nate quickly tugs at my elbow and pulls me closer. “Honey, they already know everything.” He smiles at me.

  Honey? And what “everything”?

  “No reason to go into detail,” Barron says. “No matter how it happened, we’re happy to welcome another child into the family. I’m a traditionalist, but not completely inflexible.” He smiles and looks around the room.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Evie

  A miasma of confusion follows me around like my own personal fog for the rest of the party. I wish I knew exactly what Nate said. It’s hard to just smile and pretend everything’s great. But what other option do I have?

  Thankfully, Blanche decides to stay at Justin’s, mainly because Ryan starts raging about wanting to have his grandma all to himself. For once, I’m grateful to a small child for pitching a fit. Mom will be staying with us instead. Barron generously offered to put her up in the Ritz or Aylster—the best available suite his assistant can book for her, of course—but Mom, slightly horrified, vigorously declined.

  Since we can’t fit my mom in the back of Nate’s Ferrari, the scarily cold Dane decides to drop her off in his super-fancy cream-and-pink Cullinan. I had no idea cars came in those shades, but I say nothing.

  I dread what she’s going to say. We haven’t had
a chance to talk, although she smiled and played along with everything. But I know she’s wondering if I know what I’m doing. Hell, I’m wondering if I know what I’m doing.

  And although Nate’s family is too happy and distracted with the prospect of a new baby, Mom has undoubtedly latched on to the fact that I took a pregnancy test in the bathroom of someone else’s house. Except I can’t really tell her everything. I don’t want her to have to lie for me.

  Once we arrive at Nate’s place, I put him off for the moment and take Mom to a guest room. The second the door closes, she grips my wrist. “Evie, what’s going on? You’re really pregnant?”

  I sigh. “Yes.” I gently lead her to the bed, and we sit down.

  “But…this isn’t what you said. This can’t be good for you.” Worry has put more lines on her face. Unlike some of the older women at the party, Mom’s face shows every bit of her life. All the hardship and struggles she’s had to overcome. Little wrinkles fan from the corners of her eyes and below. They make gorges along her cheeks and around her mouth. The three deep lines between her eyebrows are from fretting about paying bills, how to put food on the table and a roof over our heads. Her only jewelry is a beautiful golden ring engraved with flower motifs on the outside and “…till death do us part” inside in a swirly script. She told me my dad gave it to her the day he told her he loved her. Seeing it chokes me up, since it’s obvious she wants me to find a man who loves me the way my dad once loved her.

  I hate it that I can’t tell her what she wants to hear, but I haven’t even spoken to Nate yet. So I take a moment to gather myself, mentally casting around for a way to reassure her without promising anything I can’t deliver on. “Nate’s a good person. He always does the right thing, Mom. You don’t have to worry.”

  “But what is ‘the right thing’? For himself? For you? How about the baby?” Mom lowers her voice. “A baby changes everything, Evie. And from the way that loud old man was talking, I can just tell that family will run right over you to keep it if anything goes wrong.”

  A sliver of fear cuts through me like a shark fin in night water. I force a smile. “You can’t think about things turning out badly, Mom. We just got married.”