Millionaire Boss: A Secret Baby Romance (Freeman Brothers Book 1)

by Natasha L. Black

  Only I wasn’t sure when that would ever happen. The feelings definitely weren’t gone, and I didn’t see any difference coming on the horizon. She’d gotten under my skin, and no matter how much I told myself it wasn’t what was good for either one of us, it didn’t matter. This was what I was living with now. But maybe there was a chance I could ignore it or swallow it down. I could force myself to act like everything was normal, and that would put everything right again.

  As soon as she passed by, I got up and headed out of the office. There was really no point in me trying to do any office-type work that day. My brain was in a totally different place, and it wasn’t going to do any good. All I could do was go down to the garage and check in with Darren and Greg. We had a race that night, and I wanted to see how the team was doing.

  The first race back after his crash and poor showing had been nerve-racking for Darren. He was nervous all the way up to the day of the race, practicing late into the night and taking his poor bike apart at least three times. But a third-place showing got some of his confidence back, and the next race he won first again. Greg came in second both of those times, and it was obvious he was gunning for first. He’d gotten his taste of what it was like to be on top and now wanted more.

  But it was good to see both riders were still acting like they were on the same team. Rather than there being fierce, unpleasant competition between the two of them, they played off each other and used one another as motivation. Both wanted to do the best they could, but they genuinely wanted the other to do well, too. It was good to see, and I knew it made for a stronger team and an even more successful company.

  When I got down to the garage, Dad was talking to Darren and Greg. His hands were up over his head and his face was high with color, telling me he was in the midst of one of his famous stories about the early days of the company. By the way he told the stories it sounded like he ran a racing company in the Wild West and that any second there could have been a shootout in the middle of the track. But it was always fun to listen to him, and I leaned against the frame of the bay door to hear the end of the story.

  “That’s one of my favorites,” I said when he was finished.

  Dad turned to me with a broad grin.

  “I guess you’ve heard it a time or two,” he said.

  “At most,” I joked, but the jubilant sound I intended for my voice fell flat.

  “I guess we should be getting back to work,” he said.

  “What are you working on?” I asked.

  Dad and Darren exchanged glances. There was something in that look, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Dad gestured to the bikes in front of him.

  “We’re just doing some last-minute checks and adjustments,” he said. “We want to make sure we’re ready for tonight.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I told them. “The other teams are going to be coming for us after we’ve done so well the last few races. We want to make sure we stay on top.”

  “And make sure we don’t let anyone that get us in another crash,” Greg pointed out.

  “Also important to keep in mind,” I said.

  They went back to their work, and I did my best to pay attention and be useful, but I quickly realized why my brother and father were looking suspiciously at each other. I was just about useless. It was like everything I ever knew about the bikes and racing had leaked out of my head and I wasn’t able to understand anything that was going on. The words just went through me, and I had nothing beneficial to add to the conversation. Finally, I stopped trying. I stepped back from what was going on and just watched. At least I wasn’t sitting in the office waiting for the sound of her shoes anymore.

  As he walked around to the other end of the bikes, Darren came up beside me and clamped a hand on my shoulder. I looked at him, and he grinned. He didn’t say anything, but I got what he meant by it. It was a lot coming from Darren, and I appreciated it. As fun and silly as my youngest brother could be, he sometimes struggled with difficult emotions. He hated to see anybody upset and often didn’t know how he was supposed to react. He was firmly on Merry’s side in this situation but wanted to make sure I knew he was still my brother and would always be there for me.

  It was finally time to leave for the race. This time we were all leaving together to make sure the team was available for the tailgate event. Because we showed up for only part of the first one, many of the comments we got through our social media channels about the party were saying the fans wanted to see more of us. Requests for pictures and autographs were frequent, and several people even said they loved the idea of us grabbing some food and hanging out with them for a while. I made them feel like we were friends. I looked forward to trying to relax and have fun, to remind myself of the importance of the fans and why we worked so hard.

  But I couldn’t help but be distracted knowing a few cars behind me in the caravan was Merry and her brother, and I wouldn’t be able to escape being near her tonight.

  32

  Merry

  I couldn’t help but be proud of the success of the tailgate event. It was one of those things I never really envisioned myself doing. Especially not with the career path I’d chosen. As a social media consultant, it was my responsibility to evaluate and maintain social media presence for companies. It was all about creating effective social media platforms, maintaining engagement with customers and fans, and trying to build up more visibility so the companies could enjoy the benefits of a world that was increasingly virtual. And yet when I started working with Freeman Racing, my idea of my work responsibilities completely shifted. All of a sudden, I cared more about the company and the people who worked for it than I ever had about any other client. It wasn’t just about making sure their social media was at its best. Of course, that was at the forefront of what I was doing, but I was constantly thinking of as many other ways as I could to boost the company and bring them into a new era.

  Thinking of it that way felt a little bit arrogant. Like I was going to be their Fairy Godmother who could just swoop in and suddenly make everything better. It almost felt like I was suggesting they didn’t know how to run their own company and weren’t successful. But that’s not what I meant. They were already successful and popular, but there were ways it could get better. I was under the firm belief that there are always ways companies could improve and reach higher levels of success. No matter how beloved they were among the populace, no matter how much money they were making or how well they performed in the market, there was always something they could do better. There were ways they could be stronger.

  And even though I came into this without any knowledge about racing and no idea how a racing fan thought, I quickly grew attached and found myself wanting to do more. Fortunately, they were extremely supportive of me. Minnie especially. She was always interested to hear my ideas and work with me to polish them up into workable plans. That’s how it was with these parties. It all started with us chatting about nothing in particular and me ending up sharing a story from my high school days. I was telling her about homecoming and the tailgating party one of the student organizations put together. It was so much fun and one of my favorite memories.

  From there, I threw out the idea of using that model to build up fan engagement and get the team connected with the people who came out race after race watch them. The first one was a gamble. Nobody was really sure if anybody would want to come and if they would be interested in sticking around or buying merchandise. But it was wildly successful, and we ended up completely selling out of the shirts we had for sale and giving away all the other pieces of swag we’d ordered.

  Even after that success, I was possibly even more nervous about the second one. I wondered if the novelty of it had drawn in the first crowds and that time it wouldn’t be interesting anymore, so the attendance would dwindle. Instead, it was just as busy if not more. From there, it was just a part of the race we looked forward to.

  Last night’s had been probably the best. The team agreed to be m
ore of a part of it rather than just stopping by, and fans were lined up to take pictures with Darren and Greg. We hired two more food trucks to offer more variety, and the merchandise table was cleared out well before the event started. Halfway through, Gus came running up to me, his eyes bright and filled with excitement as he told me he wanted to bring one of the old bikes that wasn’t being used in races anymore but was still in good condition. They were sometimes used as decoration around the complex or at shows, so he thought it would be fun to bring one to a party so fans could sit on it for pictures.

  It was great to see everybody so excited and involved. The only challenge I had was staying away from the beer. The first couple of parties I enjoyed a beer while I was eating. I knew I was technically at work, but everyone else in the family tipped one back, and Minnie reassured me it was just fine. So, this time she offered to get me one when we first arrived. She didn’t seem to think anything strange about the first time I declined, but she offered more throughout the evening and looked at me with more questions in her eyes every time. It was a departure from the norm, and she definitely noticed.

  But I got through the party with no beer and no direct questions. The race went well, and a photo finish of Darren and Greg all but tying for first well ahead of the rest of the pack earned the rest of the week off work for everyone. They went back to the complex after the race to unload and put everything away, but then the complex would be closed until Monday morning.

  Which was exactly why I was there first thing in the morning Friday. I gave myself Thursday to sleep in and relax, giving in to the tiredness that seemed to never really go away now that I was sharing my body with a whole other human being. But Friday I decided to take advantage of the complex being closed and headed into the office. Everybody being gone meant I could just work casually and catch up on some of the analytical stuff I’d missed when I was out sick for those two days.

  I still wasn’t feeling at my absolute best. What people called morning sickness didn’t just strike in the morning. It tended to linger with me mostly in the afternoon and sometimes when I very first woke up. Managing it had become somewhat paradoxical. Now that I knew I wasn’t actually ill and instead was just coping with pregnancy symptoms, I had to find ways to deal with them and still be able to function every day. But that meant eating lunch and sometimes dinner would inevitably make me feel sick to my stomach, but if I didn’t eat crackers before I even put my feet on the floor when I woke up in the morning, I was likely to feel sick, too. I also realized eating snacks throughout the morning would help to calm everything down, and sometimes I was able to get a small meal in later in the day. I learned to subsist on protein shakes to get in enough nutrition, and I hoped this stage would be over soon.

  Olivia was still the only person in my life who knew, and I honestly still had no idea what I was going to do about it. It was such a strange concept, something I never expected and never really thought about. I didn’t know what to think about it, much less how to handle it. I couldn’t decide if I should tell Quentin. Though if I were to listen to Olivia, that wasn’t even an option. She was very clear in her belief that I had to tell him. It wasn’t up to me to decide if he should know or not. This was as much his baby as it was mine, and he had the right to make his decision about how he felt about it just as much as I did.

  That was a lot to think about. Not just if to tell him, but how to tell him, and how I was going to cope with however he reacted. After all, I wasn’t going to be able to keep it a secret for too much longer, and unless I wanted to quit my job before I started showing, I needed to figure my shit out.

  At least being at the complex alone meant I didn’t have to try to impress anybody with what I was wearing or look even close to professional. I could just relax and do what I needed to do at my own pace. It was a blisteringly hot day, so I chose shorts and a tank top. No one else was around, so I turned my music on and had it blasting to keep me company and keep my energy up. I was lost in the rhythm of one of my favorite songs and the pattern of checking analytics when a knock scared me. Jumping back, I looked up at the door and saw Quentin standing there. His hand was still hovered over where he leaned in to knock on the open door. I immediately noticed he didn’t look like I was used to. Rather than his suit or slacks and button-up, he was wearing shorts and an old college T-shirt. It was charming to see him that way, looking like just a normal person who could kick back and have fun without having to think about work.

  The irony wasn’t lost on me that I was seeing him look that way while he was in fact at work. But at least now I knew he owned those clothes, which meant that was a possibility of another side of him I didn’t know. Even when we were at the bar celebrating my brother getting his new position, he’d been in his business clothes and carried himself with a certain degree of tension. The only time he let go was when we were kissing. And when we were on my desk. And when we were on the bench at the side of the pond.

  Which brought me to this awkward moment as I stood staring at him, wondering if he could sense something different about me. Was that even possible? Maybe that was a bit on the far side, but the way he was looking at me made me wonder. There was a look in his eyes I didn’t really know how to interpret. There was no way he could see anything yet. I was only a few weeks along, so nothing was different. But he was looking at me with some sort of expectation.

  Finally, Quentin mumbled an apology and a string of other words I didn’t quite catch. Something about not knowing anyone else was here and wondering where the music was coming from. He rushed away down the hall before I had a chance to say anything back. I stood there and stared at the empty doorframe for a while, wondering what that interaction was all about. He hadn’t interacted with me directly in weeks, not even at the tailgate event. I’d made it a point to not be alone with him at any time and did my best to avoid getting near him at all. And yet he showed up at my office and stared at me like he was waiting for something.

  Whether there was any chance of him knowing something was going on or not, I needed to figure out my next move. I tried to turn my focus back to work, but it was hard to get myself back into it again. My mind had wandered to the baby and what I was supposed to do. The reality was hovering over me that I needed to make a decision soon. The longer I put off my plan, the harder it was going to be to deal with it. I needed to come up with something before I started showing.

  33

  Quentin

  I was grateful to have a full house that week. While it was important for me to take the time off away from everybody so I could think about what was going on in my life and how I was going to handle it, the solitude wasn’t an option for me. I needed to be around the people I was closest to, people who loved me no matter what. Even if they were upset with me and didn’t think I was making good decisions in my life, they were still the ones I relied on and trusted the most.

  In fact, it was when I was on the wrong path and making decisions that weren’t good for me that I needed them the most. Not just to direct me and tell me what they thought I should be doing. Not to admonish me to make sure I knew I was doing something wrong. Those were things I was more than capable of doing by myself and didn’t need any help with. Instead, I needed them around me so I could know that no matter what, I still had that support system. But even when I was spiraling out of control until nothing else in my life was falling into place, I had them. My family, including Cole, was my rock, and my security. They reassured me and reminded me of the type of person I wanted to be.

  Seeing my parents together was always a refreshing boost for my spirits. When I was feeling down or helpless about life, when I was discouraged and felt like there was nothing good to come of any type of relationship, I looked to them. Their love was still strong after almost fifty years of marriage. In fact, it almost seemed like being together kept them young. Their laughter and joy at one another belied their years, and I knew if either of them ever had to be without the other one, it would quickly make
them wither away.

  That was something I’d never experienced. But seeing it in them gave me some sort of hope. More important than that, seeing them together and having my brothers around kept my mind active and stopped me from wallowing and being sad. It didn’t really take away the emptiness or the sadness dragging down on my heart, but it made it so I didn’t have to think about it all the time.

  There was loud yelling in my backyard, this time punctuated by excited, high-pitched barks. Many times over the years since I’d bought this house and transformed it into my own custom home, I felt gratitude for being on so much land and not near my neighbors. While there was a certain appeal to being able to walk over to a neighbor’s house and get a cup of sugar or have a conversation on the porch, that was outweighed by the potential disruption and aggravation caused by the sheer volume achieved by my family. I would just have to make sure my pantry stayed properly stocked with sugar and be satisfied with the conversations I could have with my brothers.

  The more the puppy barked and yipped, the more my brothers laughed and cheered. As usual, I was inside the kitchen putting together snacks and gathering drinks. It seemed that no matter how much I prepared for these gatherings and thought I had brought enough down to my outdoor kitchen, inevitably I ran out of food or beverages partway through the fire. But that was fine. Going back up to the main house gave me a few minutes to myself to let my mind clear and my ears stop ringing. Carrying everything in a huge bucket with a large tray balanced over the top, I headed back out onto the deck. My father looked up and noticed me trying to negotiate making it down the steps carrying everything.

  He immediately hopped up and came to help me. We made it down to the grass, and I watched my brothers running around playing keep-away with the new puppy and Cole. It looked like we were little children again, and I couldn’t help feeling the urge to jump in. The puppy was growing fast, and it was so much fun to watch her run and jump, flopping around in the grass and delightedly climbing on the logs and benches. We didn’t bother to light the fire that night because it was so hot, so I didn’t feel worried about her safety. I was enjoying seeing her be so free and full of life.