Page 6 of The Baby Contract With My Hot Billionaire Boss

My thoughts again turn to Emma and I think about everything that I know about her.

Of course I feel like I know her body more than my own. I’ve studied it. I can’t get enough.

And according to Ethan she’s a hard worker. She takes all the shifts we give her and picks up extras whenever they’re available. According to what I’ve seen, she’s good at her job. She talks to the customers just enough without dallying.

She keeps them interested and coming back. But she’s a quiet person. The other waitresses don’t seem to know a lot about her when I speak to them.

“Emma? Well, she’s been here for a while,” Elizabeth tells me. “But I really couldn’t tell you much other than she’s got a sister and a mother. She doesn’t talk about them. Doesn’t really talk about her home life at all.”

“I think she’s still young. But she does a good job. Better than some of the others.” That comes from Andrea, who’s been here for quite a while and is probably one of our best waitresses.

“What do you think of her as a person?”

“I think she’s friendly. And when she gets here for work it’s always at least 30 minutes before the place opens. No problems with her work ethic, that’s for sure.”

It’s probably the best I’m going to get without talking to her myself. But the snippets I get from everyone else combined with what I have learned about her (other than the sounds she makes when I nip at the pulse point of her throat or the way her body tenses when I slide deep inside her) all seem overwhelmingly positive.

She could be exactly what I need to make my parents chill the fuck out. And it just might be the excuse I need to spend as much time as I want with her. But will a fake relationship do it? Or do I need something more?

Dad has always been big on carrying forth the family legacy. And I know he’s pleased as anything about Margie, but Margie doesn’t have our name. And even if she did, she wouldn’t be able to pass it on. That’s all on me. And it’s been an unspoken understanding that someday I would have kids and pass on that name, but now that I’m getting closer and closer to the time when it’s most normal to have kids the pressure has been getting more intense. And a relationship isn’t going to fix that.

“Ethan? Can I speak with you?”

I sit up straighter at hearing the voice, practically right outside my door. Is it possible that I just conjured her up here by thinking about her? And asking the others about her? But no, she seems a little nervous and she’s asking to speak to Ethan, not me.

“Of course. Is there a problem?” he asks her and there’s a long moment of hesitation.

“I would like to be a dancer.”

“Wait, what? You, a dancer? That’s not gonna happen. Sorry, Sweetheart.”

“I’ll audition for it. Or … try out … or … whatever you need,” she tells him and her voice is anxious. But I don’t even care about that because all I can think of is the fact that she would be standing up on the stage dancing for the rest of the customers. That they would be watching her, enjoying her, entirely too much for my comfort.

Before I can stop myself I stride out of my office and into Ethan’s, which causes both of them to look up at me, startled.

“You want to be a dancer?” I ask her and she hesitates a moment before nodding her head.

“Yes. I do.”

“Come with me.” Ethan gives me a strange look but doesn’t say anything as she quickly stands and follows me to my own office. “So, why is it you want to be a dancer?”

“I … I think I’d be good at it. And I would do whatever I need to. I will practice and train and whatever it takes to get the job.” She’s certainly in earnest about this. Almost desperate. And that’s exactly what I need if I’m going to get her to agree to my counterproposal.

But I don’t speak now. I just raise an eyebrow at her because her protesting isn’t answering what I asked. Finally she sighs.

“I want the pay increase. I need to make more money.”

“I’m not going to make you a dancer.”

“What? No, Mr. Warren, I can do this. I know that I can. I just need a chance at-“

“I have another offer.”

“Another … another offer?” She’s staring up at me and I pause a moment. Partially for the effect of it. Partially because I’m debating in my head if this is what I want to do. But it seems like the best way to solve both of our problems.

“I want you to have my baby.”

Chapter Four ~ Emma

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