Page 46 of The Baby Contract With My Hot Billionaire Boss

“I’m not going to be happy if I have to put all of these things back,” she practically growls and the boy looks embarrassed for her. Though Emma is staring at the mound of items with a mixture of shock and dismay as well.

“That’s not going to be a problem,” I retort, and when he’s finished ringing everything up, I hand over my card, which goes through without a problem.

She seems surprised then. Her eyes widen as she stares at us.

“And you, if you ever fancy a change of pace … we’re always looking for hard workers like you at the club.” I hand him my card and Emma laughs.

“You think he wants to go from working at a baby store to a nightclub?”

“You never know,” I tell her with a shrug and he glances down at the card, flipping it over in his hand.

“Christian Warren?”

The woman’s eyes really go wide now and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she tries to think of a way to salvage what’s just happened here, but she can’t.

“That’s right. Think about it.” And with that, I lead Emma out of the store.

“I think you might have just about given her a panic attack,” Emma tells me, with a glance back over her shoulder.

“She deserved it, after the way she treated you.”

“You spent way too much on all that stuff. And we don’t really need half of it. We can make do with-“

“We’re not going to ‘make do’ with anything,” I tell her firmly. “This is my child too and they are going to have everything that they need.”

“This is more than just what they need.”

“Well, it’s what they’re getting,” I insist.

There’s something about the look on her face … pleasure and surprise, but a little trepidation, perhaps. She’s uncertain. Happy to have it, but the expense of it all throws her off. She still doesn’t say anything else.

“I … I have to go. I have plans this evening,” she tells me and I stare at her a little closer.

Things have been good all morning, but there’s definitely something different now. Still, I know better than to say anything so I just let it go, taking her back to the house and making out like I’m going up to the office to work on some things for the business.

But when she slips out of the house, I follow. It’s been long enough of this trying to figure out what’s going on and I’m not about to wait for her to tell me. The bag she’s carrying is strange too, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t look back, just tosses it into her car and heads out.

The fact that she never once looks back to see if she’s being followed annoys me. I’ll need to talk to her about basic safety. But the fact that she drives straight through town and all the way into the West End District is even more surprising.

What could she possibly be doing here? I know for a fact she didn’t live here. When I had her things brought to my house, they came from a small but functional apartment in the East District. So what is she doing here?

The house she stops at is shabby. There’s no getting around that. But they’ve definitely put work into keeping it as nice as possible, for what it is. There are a few flowers in the front and the yard is neat. And Emma is taking her bag and going up to the front door where she’s easily welcomed in.

But what is this place? And why is she here?

I’m already attracting attention with my car and the last thing I want is someone to tell Emma that I’m here, following her. At least, not before I’m ready to talk to her about it. Because I don’t want to give her time to think up a story before I confront her. And I intend to do just that.

Which is why I’m waiting in the living room when she gets back.

“Emma.”

“Oh! You startled me. What do you need? Did the things get delivered for the baby’s room?”

“They did. But I want to talk about something first.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know, is it?” I counter and she gives me a confused look.

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