Knocked Up Series: Book IV
Knocked Up by the Billionaire’s Son
A Secret Baby Romance
Lilian Monroe
www.lilianmonroe.com
Twitter: @Lily_Author
Facebook: @MonroeRomance
Instagram: @lilianmonroe.author
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author except for short quotations used for the purpose of reviews.
Chapter 1 – Dean
“Sorry for the late notice, Dean, but Jeremy’s called in sick. We need you for two-year-old twins’ birthday party tomorrow morning at 10am.”
“Saturday is supposed to be my day off, Pat,” I sigh. What was supposed to be a side job to give back to the community is turning into a massive time commitment.
“I know, buddy. Just help me out here. It’s a cash job at a nice house, it’ll pay for at least three of our non-profit events.”
“Yeah, fine. No worries. Text me the address.”
I hang up the phone and let out another sigh. I was looking forward to a day to myself tomorrow, but I can’t back out now. It’s not like I need the money, I’ve got loads of that. I met Pat at my niece’s birthday party and found out he runs a non-profit organisation for kids. I convinced him to give me a job as a children’s entertainer, since working at my father’s investment firm isn’t exactly fulfilling. When he first offered me the job I’d laughed – ‘children’s entertainer’ is just a fancy way of saying ‘clown’. I fell in love with the job right away, and now I love calling myself Clifford the Clown on the weekends.
I head to my closet and pull out the plastic dry-cleaner’s bag hanging at the back. I unzip it and make sure everything is ok. The bright yellow suit has blue polka dots all over it with big red buttons down the front. I lay it down on my bed and pull out the suitcase with the rest of my costume and props in it. There are more than enough balloons and streamers, so all I have to do is make sure all my gear is ready to go for the morning.
It’s surprisingly calming to get ready. I make sure everything is laid out for my costume and that I have enough face paint. I lay out all my balloons and games and pack them away neatly, and then I check my compressed air canister to make sure I’ll be able to make balloon animals. Everything is just about in order when my phone rings again.
This better not be Pat cancelling the gig on me, I think to myself. It wouldn’t be the first time it happens. As much as I love the guy and I respect what he’s doing, he’s not the most organised manager I’ve ever had. That’s what you get when you work for a clown, I guess.
I pick up my phone and grimace. It’s not Pat, it’s worse. It’s my mother.
“Mother,” I say as I answer the phone.
“Dean, darling, how are you?” she asks in her honey-sweet voice.
“I’m fine, mom. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing. I haven’t spoken to you since the fundraiser last month.”
Yeah, that wasn’t by accident.
“I’ve been busy, mother. I’m doing this non-profit gig for the children’s foundation.”
“Of course, honey. The clown thing.” I can almost hear her waving her hand dismissively. “I just wanted to call and see if you’d spoken to Victoria lately?”
A shiver runs down my spine and I shake my head. I take a deep breath before answering and force my voice to stay even.
“Victoria and I broke up two months ago, mother. You know that.”
“I know, honey, it’s just that your father and I liked her so much. And the Erkharts have been so good to us over the years. It seems like a shame to throw away such a great relationship over some silliness.”
Silliness?! I bristle, and take another deep breath to calm myself. As usual, my mother is only thinking of herself. Never mind my heartbreak or my feelings. They wouldn’t matter to her. She only cares about the contacts that the Erkharts bring to their investment business.
“We broke up,” I repeat. “It’s over.”
“Talk to her, honey,” she says. I wish she’d stop calling me that. “They were over for dinner the other day and she is so sorry for everything that happened. She said she’s just worried about you, and she’s ready to forgive you for storming out on her.”
“SHE is ready to forgive ME?!” I almost shout. I hear a sharp intake of breath and I try my best to stay calm. Why did my mother have my ex-fiancee over for dinner anyways?? “We broke up. It’s over.”
“Talk to her, honey.”
“Stop calling me honey,” I snap.
My mother sighs. Her voice is harder when she speaks again . “You’ve caused us a world of pain with this breakup. Your union with Victoria was planned from the time you were two years old. We had millions tied into it. It’s in your best interest to reconsider.”
A chill goes down my spine and I resist the urge to fling my phone out the window.
“I think you’re mistaking YOUR best interest with MY best interest,” I spit back. Typical of my mother, I shouldn’t be surprised. “I need to get ready for work.”
“You need to get ready to put on a costume and blow up balloons, you mean,” she snarls. “When are you going to grow up and realise where you come from. The only reason you’re able to ‘give back’ is because of the sacrifices that your father and I made for you. You would have nothing without us.”
“I’d have my integrity,” I snap.
My mother snorts. “Right,” she says. “Well, go get ready for your little job then. Call Victoria.”
The phone clicks and this time I do fling it across the room. It lands on the sofa and bounces onto the floor as I put my hands against the wall and take deep breaths. I pull my arm back and smack the wall as hard as I can with my palm as a yell erupts out of me.
Why can’t she understand that Victoria and I broke up? I walked in on her with another man in our own bed and she calls it ‘silliness’?! What universe does she live in??
With another deep breath I try to calm myself down. I go back to my bedroom and zip up the plastic bag with my costume in it and lay it across the armchair in the corner. I look at the rainbow-coloured wig and the red nose in the box beside the costume and I shake my head.
What am I doing? I’m dressing up as a clown and making balloon animals on the weekends instead of putting in extra hours at the investment firm with my father. My parents tolerated the time away when I was playing by the rules, but now I can sense their patience wearing thin.
I turn back around and stomp out into the living room. The New York skyline is glittering below me and I slump down in the sofa and put my head in my hand.
As much as I hate to admit it, my mother is right. I’m living in this penthouse because of them, and I can afford to work as a children’s entertainer because of the trust fund that they set up for me. I owe them everything, but asking me to patch things up with Victoria Erkhart is just too much.
They’d never cut me off, would they? Not because I refused to marry the woman they chose for me? Surely they love me more than that?
Chapter 2 – Samantha
The plane lands in New York and I glance out the window. Dusk is starting to settle and the sky is ablaze with colours. I’m like a zombie, going through the motions without really thinking about what I’m doing. Before I know it, I’m loading my bag into the back of a taxi and giving the driver Jess’s address.
I glance at my big purse and see
the blue manila folder sticking out of it. I turn back to the window, trying to blink back the tears that have gathered in my eyes.
Divorced.
God, I hate that word.
Or rather, soon to be divorced. As soon as I sign on the dotted line it’ll be official.
The buildings rush by us and I stare through the window without seeing anything. We’re on a freeway, and then we’re winding through streets with tall houses all stuck together. It looks just like the movies.
It’s not until the taxi driver stops the car that I blink and take a deep breath, waking up from my daze. I pay the driver and carry my suitcase up the half dozen steps to my best friend’s front door. My arm is just lifting to knock on the door when it swings open.
“Sam!” she exclaims. I can’t help but smile.
“Hi, Jess.”
“Come in, come in. Are you hungry? Your room is down the hall on the left. Here, let me take this. How are you?”
The questions come hard and fast and I can’t keep up. I just barely am able to grasp that I’m in New York, and the blue folder in my purse is burning against my side. Jess turns around as we walk down the hall and purses her lips together.
“Sorry. You must be exhausted. The twins and Owen are all asleep already. If you want to just pass out I’ll get out of your hair.”
“No,” I say suddenly. Jess’s eyebrows raise. I try to smile. “I mean, I’d rather spend a bit of time with you. If you don’t mind.” I’m not ready to be alone yet, is what I mean to say. Jess understands right away and she smiles.
“Here’s your room. Drop your suitcase and come to the kitchen. I opened a bottle of wine just in case you wanted some when you got here,” she says with a wink. I try to smile again but it feels like my face has forgotten how. Jess wraps me in a hug and squeezes me close.
“It’ll be ok,” she whispers.
I follow her to the kitchen and we sit at the little round table in the corner. She takes out two long-stemmed wine glasses and pours generous amounts of wine in each.
“Welcome to New York,” she says with a grin as she raises her glass. We clink them together and I take a sip. The rich, bitter red wine fills my mouth and I sigh in satisfaction, feeling my shoulders relax right away.
“Thank you for having me,” I finally say.
Jess shakes her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. When you called I was ready to jump on a plane myself and go down to Lexington. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
I try to respond but all of a sudden there’s a lump in my throat. I lift the wine up to my lips and take the tiniest sip before putting it back down. My eyelids are prickling and my heart is thumping against my ribcage.
“How did this happen?” I whisper, finally lifting my tear-filled eyes up to Jess. “How did this happen?”
Jess reaches across the table to put her hand over mine. Her eyes are soft and caring and full of concern.
“It happened when that asshole broke his vows and showed his true colours,” she responds.
“What did I do wrong?” I ask, shaking my head. “I was a good wife. We weren’t even married three years. I cooked and cleaned and had a job and – ”
“Stop,” Jess says sternly. I glance up at her, surprised. “You did nothing wrong. Do you hear me? Absolutely nothing. Cheaters cheat, that’s what they do. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you do, it’s him who did you wrong. It’s him who did it to you and it’s him who is the asshole. Not you. You are a fucking saint, if you ask me,” Jess says as she takes a swig of wine. “I’d have keyed his car and burned all his things in the front yard.”
I feel a hint of a smile breaking my lips. Jess glances at me and grins. Her smile fades and she shakes her head. “I thought you guys were the real deal. When I went to your wedding I thought I’d be visiting you when you were eighty with dozens of grandkids.”
The tears prickle my eyes and I put my hand over my forehead. I nod, because my voice is gone. Jess reaches over and rubs my back, cooing and making soft motherly noises.
“Come on, Sam. I know it’s horrible now and it feels like it will always be horrible. But it won’t. Look at the bright side, you have no kids. You have skills and drive and you can get a job anywhere. The house in Lexington is paid for, so you can sell your half to Ronnie and be done with that toxic town. You have options,” she says. I finally lift my eyes up to her and she reaches across the table to hold my hand. “So many options. You hear me?”
“I hear you, but it still feels like my life is over,” I say. “That sounds so pathetic,” I add with a snort.
“No, it doesn’t. It sounds completely reasonable.”
Jess scoots her chair over and wraps her arms around me. I lay my head on her shoulder and finally let the tears flow. I cry into her shoulder as she holds me and rocks me back and forth. Finally, when the tears start to slow down I sit up. I take my wine and lift it to my lips to take a long drink.
“You’re right,” I say as I turn to Jess. A smile starts to form on her lips. “I have options.”
“You do. And you can stay here as long as you want to. I mean it. As long as you want to.”
I nod and smile. I don’t respond because I don’t trust my voice. The tears are prickling my eyes again, but this time they’re tears of gratitude and love for my best friend.
“So,” I clear my throat when the word comes out as a croak. “So it’s the twins’ birthday party tomorrow?”
Jess leans back in her chair and smiles. “Yes! Terrible twos,” she laughs. “I thought the ones were terrible but apparently it gets worse!”
I laugh and shake my head. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”
“We will,” she says with a smile, glancing down the hallway. A pang goes through my chest when I think of the partnership that Owen and Jess have. I thought I had that kind of love too – the kind of love that lasts decades. I was wrong.
“What’s planned for the party?”
“We’ve got a clown coming!” Jess says with a laugh. “I didn’t even know they still had clowns, but apparently you can hire them by the hour. They call themselves ‘children’s entertainers’.”
I chuckle. “That’s very glamorous.”
“Very,” Jess adds. “Anyways, this company is supposed to be really good. I just hope the kids like it and don’t end up traumatised and scared of clowns for the rest of their lives.”
“Scared of children’s entertainers, you mean.”
Jess laughs. “Yeah, right, sorry. Children’s entertainers.”
I lean back in my chair and my shoulders relax again. For the first time since I left Lexington, I feel my body begin to unwind. Jess talks and we laugh until the bottle of wine is empty, and then she wraps her arms around me once again. I sigh into the hug and then we just look at each other and nod.
“See you tomorrow,” she says with a smile. “Sleep tight.”
“You too,” I answer. I walk to my bedroom and close the door, grateful that the wine is making my eyelids heavy. I might actually be able to sleep tonight.
Chapter 3 – Dean
I cram all my gear into the car and swear. Of course I’m late. I had three alarms set and I still slept through them. You’d think I was a fourteen year old boy and not a grown man for the amount of sleep I need. I rush back up the elevator and jump into the clown costume.
Within a few minutes, I’ve got the costume on and I’m painting my face. The wide red smile and bright cheeks look ridiculous, but they help me get in character. I paint the black outline and big circles around my eyes. My hair gets gelled back and my wig slides on.
I take a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror. I’m ready. I slip my regular shoes on and carry my huge clown shoes down the elevator with the last of my props. I’m finally ready. I glance at my watch and shake my head. With a bit of luck I should get there only ten or fifteen minutes late.
Traffic seems to be on my side, and I drive thro
ugh the streets more quickly than anticipated. I double check the address and park in front of a house. There are balloons swinging in the wind near the front door.
“This must be it,” I say to myself. I slip my big shoes on and grab my bag of props. My hands are full but I’m able to carry everything in one trip. I slam the trunk closed and turn towards the front door.
The shoes are awkward to walk in, and I waddle my way up to the front door. I wish New York houses didn’t have so many steps. I ring the doorbell and clear my throat, ready to put on my clown voice. The door swings open and a man appears on the other side.
“Clifford the clown, at your service,” I say with a flourish, bowing with my arms outstretched. The man chuckles.
“Come on in, they’re out back.”
I follow him to the backyard and the sounds of children screaming and playing get louder. He slides the back door open and I step through. The kids turn to me immediately and start laughing. The show begins.
There’s something special about performing for kids. The way their eyes shine and the way they laugh without a worry in the world makes me feel like I’m floating. Every time one of them laughs at something I do or falls for one of my pranks it feels like a mini jolt of energy to the heart.
These kids are no different. I spot the birthday twins right away – a boy and a girl. They’re only two, but they’re the life of the party. I give them party hats first, and then start handing them out to the other kids. I glance at the parents and hand out party hats to them as well.
As much as I didn’t want to do this last night, I’m enjoying myself. I settle the kids into a semi circle in front of me and prepare them for the balloon animal bit of my performance. I pull out the air canister and blow up a long balloon. I start twisting it and tying it as the kids watch in awe.
When Pat first started teaching me to make these, it was the most frustrating weeks of my life. It’s definitely harder than it looks. It took me almost a year to get the hang of it, and I’m just now starting to feel confident.
I make the first balloon animal, a dog, and I hand it to the birthday girl.
“One for you,” I say in my best Clifford the Clown voice. She giggles and waves it around and I grin. Next is a giraffe, and a monkey, and a shark. I make them one by one and hand them to the kids. By this time I’m really enjoying myself. I’m laughing along with them and I know I’ve got them in the palm of my hand. The adults are laughing at my jokes and I’m on a high.
Knocked Up by the Billionaire's Son: A Secret Baby Romance Page 1
