Billionaires & Babies: The Complete Series

by Leslie North

  And after two months of freelancing with no health insurance and zero initiative to snag a new full-time job in her field due to her condition, even her own apartment wasn’t within her own price range.

  Connie wasn’t sure what she expected when she’s first told Brian about the pregnancy. Admittedly, a part of her wanted him to jump at the chance to be a full-time dad, but Felicia had put an instant wrench in that pipedream. Now, she hoped he’d still choose to be a father to her baby, in whatever way he chose. She didn’t want to ask for monetary support, but she needed to be realistic. She needed financial help.

  During the drive over to his place, she imagined her feet dragging behind the car. That was how little she wanted to go there. And Felicia…his girlfriend. She scowled as she hung a left onto Brian’s street. The sandstone exterior of his building screamed “Wealthy professionals!” and “Upper crust relaxation!” Who might this girlfriend even be? She hated how her stomach had knotted up at the mention of her. Hated even more that she’d been disappointed.

  Fine. So he was off the market. But Connie was carrying his baby. Hopefully Brian knew how to pick good girlfriends, because the mother of all relationship testers was headed her way.

  And maybe their relationship can just fail, and Brian and I can ride off into the sunset.

  She sighed as she eased up to the intercom at the gated parking garage. She pressed the penthouse button, waited a moment as Brian had instructed, then the gate lifted. She chose the closest spot to the front doors. She was pregnant, after all. Pregnant and hormonal, which could explain her recent desire to secretly pine for Brian.

  Who was she kidding? She got out of the car with a huff. She’d always pined for Brian. But now that she had this loose coagulation of cells also known as a future baby, she pined for him even more. The security of a partner. The stability of those rock-hard biceps, embracing her, lifting her, guiding her.

  She barely knew him. These thoughts barely made sense. That’s why it had to be the pregnancy.

  Or maybe she was just going nuts.

  Inside the elevator, Connie recalled the last time she’d been in there. Pressed up against the mirrored wall, buried in Brian’s kisses. Damn, he was a good kisser, too. Definitely not the thing to think about prior to meeting his girlfriend.

  At the top floor, Connie knocked tentatively on the penthouse door. A few seconds passed, followed by the hushed undertones of voices. The door swung open. Brian greeted her with a smile that looked plenty forced.

  And behind him…Felicia.

  The tall, impeccably dressed blonde made Connie regret her outfit choice. All of her life choices, actually. The woman looked to be younger than Connie, preened and primped to perfection. The woman was a knockout. Of course this was the level Brian operated on. Model-grade. Probably rich as hell. Connie wilted and tried to brighten her smile at the same time.

  “Hey, guys.” Shit, she sounded way too excited. This was going to be a train wreck. “Nice to see you both. I mean, hi, I’m Connie.” She thrust her hand forward, past Brian, and left it suspended in midair waiting for Felicia to approach.

  Felicia sent a quizzical look to Brian and stepped forward, her heels clicking against the wood floor of the foyer. “Hello, Connie. I’m Felicia.” No pleased to meet you in this scenario.

  Connie shoved her hands in the pockets of her plain, light jacket. Paired with blue jeans and an old Strokes T-shirt, she couldn’t have been more the casual antithesis to Felicia’s executive chic.

  “Let’s sit down.” Brian strode into the penthouse, which Connie could finally take in. Not like the last time you were here. They walked by the kitchen, which was done up in wood and earthy tones. A simple mahogany dining room table featured round, taupe place settings. This place could be in magazines. Brian led them into a living room, where low, boxy couches crowded around a fake fireplace.

  “Cool place,” Connie remarked, sitting on the edge of a couch. Brian and Felicia took their seats on the couch facing hers, sitting close but not touching. As though an afterthought, Felicia grabbed Brian’s hand. Connie looked away.

  “Thanks.” Brian cleared his throat. “I think we should jump right into the matter at hand. Connie, I’ve already told Felicia. She knows what we’re here to discuss.”

  Felicia lifted a brow. “Yes. And it’s definitely better to figure this out now rather than later. We want to avoid a spectacle.”

  “Oh, trust me. There will be no spectacle.” Connie sliced a hand through the air.

  Felicia sent her a pitying smile. “Good. The priority here is avoiding bad press. As you probably know, we both are very busy, important people with large and complex businesses.”

  Connie bristled. Now Felicia was just being condescending. “Yeah. Got it. Very busy and important.”

  Felicia’s eyes narrowed. “Needless to say, the easiest solution here is plain. For all involved.” She looked at Brian, as though urging him to pick up the ball and run with it.

  “Connie, we are willing to adopt your baby—my baby—and raise it as our own.” Brian cleared his throat. “If you’re willing to give up custody, I mean.”

  Connie could only stare back at them. “That’s the easiest solution?”

  “I don’t know if Brian has told you yet,” Felicia cooed, “but we’re getting married. And it would be awfully nice to introduce his child to the world as part of our family unit.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to adopt the baby,” Connie said to Felicia.

  Felicia’s smile wavered only slightly. “If the baby is included in our family unit, there will be no mention of another mother. I will be the mother. You will be out of the picture. We would cover all your medical expenses and recovery, along with some compensation for your time and effort.”

  She snorted. “What, so you want to pay me off? Just throw money at me to slink away and disappear?”

  Felicia blinked. “Well, yes.”

  Brian rubbed his forehead, looking plenty stressed. Connie had thought he might have had more common sense than this, but maybe his priorities were so different that she couldn’t even imagine.

  “We don’t want the negative publicity,” Brian said. “We must tread very lightly with the deal that we’re about to make.”

  “The only way a baby gets attached to our new family is if it’s ours. Plain and simple.” Felicia shrugged.

  Connie stared at both of them for a few moments, the resolution gurgling inside her, stronger than Old Faithful at Yellowstone. “I’m not willing to give this baby up. I want to be a part of its life. I want to be its mother.”

  Felicia and Brian shared a look that made Connie’s belly twist even harder. Nobody spoke for a long time. Brian squeezed Felicia’s hand before he went on.

  “The next option is to financially support you, but I will not be involved in the child’s life.” Brian sounded hollow, as if he was reciting a speech. “You will have full custody. No father mentioned on the birth certificate. No official child support obligations, but I will make sure that you and the child don’t want for anything.”

  Connie focused her stare on Brian and was surprised when he wouldn’t look at her. This was not going the way she’d expected. While she wasn’t holding her breath that he’d want to be with her and the baby, she hadn’t anticipated this level of ultimatum.

  “Why can’t you be on the birth certificate?”

  Felicia’s mouth thinned. “There will be no traceable link between that child and this family.”

  Connie glanced between the two of them unable to keep silent. “Why?”

  “Why, what?” Felicia looked as though she might implode as she audibly ground her teeth.

  “Why can’t there be a traceable link? We’re talking about a baby, not a piece of poorly written code.”

  This was weird and from the look on Felicia’s face, an area she didn’t want to probe further. The woman was too tightly wound. Holding up her hand to keep either of them from speaking, Connie blurt
ed out, “Fine. No traceable link,” Before she could change her mind.

  Felicia looked over at Brian, offering a small smile. One that seemed to say, “See? We did it.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Felicia said. “The financial support does come at a cost.”

  “Felicia—” Brian began.

  “You have to stay out of the spotlight. Our image cannot be ruined.”

  Connie furrowed a brow. “Sorry. Your image?”

  Felicia’s mouth thinned again. She was the last person on Earth Connie would ever become friends with, she could already tell. “Yes. The contract we sign will cover all this. So there are no questions moving forward.”

  Connie’s head spun. A contract. No traceable link. Absent father. She must have looked dizzy or lost or something, because Brian leaned toward Felicia and said, “Can we have a minute?”

  Felicia quietly excused herself, her shiny heels clicking down the hallway as she got lost. Brian came onto the other couch with Connie.

  “You okay?”

  Connie swung her head to look at him, trying to force a bright smile. “I mean…yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Just wanted to check. Maybe this is weird.”

  Connie hefted with a laugh. “Yeah. It’s pretty weird.” She rubbed at the space between her eyes. “But it’s fine. I get it. I mean, I understand why you two want to do it this way.”

  Brian nodded, something like relief washing over his face. “Okay. Good. I’m glad.”

  Connie squeezed her hands together, trying to keep together the façade of this all being fine. Truth was, she wanted to cry. Wanted to escape to a quiet, closed off room and just weep. She didn’t know why, either. And maybe that was the worst part of it all.

  Something along the way had split her in two, exposing the ugly underbelly of this situation. Which was that no matter how hard she tried to play the put-together, I’ve-got-this, future-single-mom part, deep down, she was scared shitless.

  She’d hoped to have Brian to lean on, at least in some capacity, and she’d yet to share the news with her family. While she knew her parents would be supportive, if she couldn’t have Brian at her side, she wanted to do this on her own.

  Her subconscious was spinning in circles as the realization was finally hitting home. She was going to be a mother. A single mother.

  “You okay?” Brian nudged her with his arm, sliding even closer to her, and for a moment, it felt like maybe it was the only two of them. Like Felicia wasn’t a part of this weird love triangle.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.” She forced a smile, reaching for her handbag. “I’m glad we got this sorted out. I need to get going.”

  6

  Brian checked his watch for the third time. The waiting room of the OB office was cheerfully plain. A placard telling him to “Love each moment like there’s no tomorrow” rubbed him the wrong way, and he couldn’t say why. Maybe it was because the receptionist was sending quizzical looks his way every ten seconds. Maybe because Connie had barely said ten words to him since he’d shown up at the office with the most expensive doula he could find in the entire state.

  He stared at the placard lost in thought. Some moments he didn’t love. Some tomorrows he didn’t look forward to. It was hard to say where these exact moments and tomorrows fit into the larger picture.

  “Constance Bonner.” The nurse calling Connie’s name smiled a little too brightly. But that’s what Brian was looking for. For paying top-dollar for this OB, he expected a little ass-kissing.

  “That’s us.” Brian stood, waiting with a smile as Connie stood. The doula, Ms. Gentry—a very stern but highly recommended middle-aged woman—followed close behind them. The nurse led them down a well-decorated hall with plenty of bright light spilling in at the end, and into a spacious exam room. The nurse gestured toward the exam chair, which looked like the enormous massage chairs he’d seen at an upscale mall once.

  “Take a seat here, Constance. I just need to go over your history.”

  “Actually, can we have a minute?” Connie asked.

  “What do you—” the nurse began.

  “You two.” Connie pointed to the doula and the nurse. “Just give me a minute with him.”

  The unexpected demand hung strangely in the air. The nurse looked a little flustered. Brian’s stomach sank.

  “Sure,” the nurse said, scooping up her laptop. She and the doula excused themselves. Once the door clicked shut behind them, Connie breathed a sigh of relief.

  “What is going on?” Brian asked in a low voice.

  “What the fuck are you thinking?” Connie demanded. Her normally alabaster skin was flushed.

  Brian reeled back. He hadn’t expected an outburst like this. Not by a long shot. “I’m thinking about your welfare and the welfare of your child.”

  “Then why don’t you consult me for things like that?” Connie jabbed her finger toward the door. “Who even is she?”

  “A doula,” Brian said, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt, trying to quell the flicks of irritation skating through him. “The best there is. I researched. Extensively.”

  “Well, I don’t want a doula,” Connie hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t even know what that is.”

  “A doula is basically a pregnancy expert—” Brian began.

  “I’d say the OB is the pregnancy expert.” Her lips thinned. “And I should have a choice as to whether or not I want the doula here. We might have made this baby together, but it’s inside my body. Not yours.”

  Brian worked his jaw back and forth. The times he’d been chewed out by women were few and far between in his life. But there was a vehemence behind her words that made him pause. He shouldn’t push this one.

  “I get what you’re saying,” Brian said slowly, holding up a hand. “But hear me out. We have money at our disposal. Don’t you want the absolute best of everything?”

  “Brian, while I appreciate what you’re trying to do. Truly. Simply because something is the most expensive, doesn’t mean it’s the best.” Brian was about to interject when she held up her hand for him to be silent. “Look, I may not have all of this figured out, not even close, but I’m the one who’s pregnant. I’m the one with the hormones out of control. What that means is I get to choose. Me. Not you. Get it?”

  Brian drew a terse breath. He’d been studying the wood-like design of the laminate floor for so long it had practically burned itself into the backs of his eyes. “Okay.” He ran a thumb over his knuckles, thinking back over the other birth plan preparations he’d made. “So, should I cancel the birth consultant appointment I set for after this?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “A birth consultant,” Brian repeated. “I found the best one. She’s worked with all the celebrities in the state, and she really knows the ins and outs of the California medical scene.”

  Connie’s face tightened. “Yeah, I’m not going to that. You should cancel.”

  Brian sighed, tugging at the front of his hair. “I don’t get it. If you’re not an expert, then there should be an expert present.” It was his life motto. It guided nearly everything he did. And often, Brian was the expert.

  “Okay, Mr. Fancy Pants, I think we’ve got enough here with the doctor. Who I would love to meet if you would just politely tell Mrs. Doula to hit the road.”

  “Fine.” Brian stormed out of the exam room, finding Ms. Gentry lurking a bit down the hallway. He conferred with her quietly, squeezed her shoulder, and she left. A moment later, the nurse rounded the corner. As soon as she spotted Brian, that bright smile returned.

  “I think we’re finally ready.”

  He followed her into the exam room. As he shut the door behind him, Connie said to the nurse, “Sorry. I just had to get grandma out of here. She and I have bad blood.”

  The nurse grinned while rearranging her papers. “She’s a young grandma.”

  Connie shrugged, snagging Brian’s gaze over the nurse’s shoulder. They shar
ed a small smile. “Yeah,” Connie went on, clearly enjoying spinning this yarn. “But she’s an old fart.”

  Brian covered his mouth to hide the smile. The nurse went through a standard list of questions covering history, previous pregnancies, and so on. Blood pressure and weight were taken. And then the nurse went to get the doctor.

  “This is a lot more fun when the chaperones are gone,” Connie cracked, crossing her legs on the fancy, overstuffed chair.

  “I think you’re older than the nurse,” Brian said. “You could have been her chaperone once.”

  “Hey.” Connie feigned offense. “Are you calling me geriatric?”

  Brian snorted. “No.” He liked spending time with Connie. She was funny…and he never quite knew what she would say next. “Not yet, at least.”

  “Lucky you didn’t knock me up four years down the road. Then this would have been a geriatric pregnancy.”

  Brian arched a brow. “That’s a thing?”

  “You hired the experts, Brian. Didn’t they cover that in your top-secret-FBI-expert briefing before this appointment?”

  He laughed in spite of himself. When she made fun of him, it was cute. “We must have overlooked that.”

  “Hm. Guess you’ll need better experts next time.”

  Brian headed for the wall of windows overlooking the neatly manicured lawn surrounding the front parking lot. Everything about this place was neat, tidy, and top-notch. Just as he liked. A moment later, Connie spoke again, but she sounded more timid than he’d ever heard her.

  “Why’d you want to come along today?”

  Brian shoved his hands in his pockets, squinting out at the day beyond the windows. He’d rescheduled a meeting to be here. Which wasn’t the end of the world, but he knew what she was getting at. He could have just thrown the money at her and never looked back.

  “I wanted to make sure you were set up.” He jingled his keys in his pockets. “That you have everything you need.”

  “I do,” she said. “I have more than enough.”