Page 61 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

“Excuse me, miss? Miss? You can’t go up there.”

“Too late,” I muttered, too low to hear.

“I’m calling security.”

“No need. I’m leaving.” I started to walk out, back straight, head high, but it was lunch hour and the lobby was crowded. People were staring. Rolling their eyes. I ended up fleeing like some dirty trespasser, out of Sam’s tower and out of his world. I’d been a fool to think I had any place here, or Sam in my life. We were from different planets.

CHAPTER 24

SAM

Ifelt like I’d been hit in the head with something big, soft, and heavy. A cotton bale, maybe. A boxing glove full of feathers. A comically huge one, like from a cartoon. Had Lana just said, had she said, was it mine? Why hadn’t I asked her that? Or how she was feeling? Or any of the things a sane person would ask. How far along are you would’ve been a start. Did you go to the doctor? Do they know the sex? Anything in that area. Anything at all.

“Sam?”

What had I said to her? I tried to replay it, but our whole encounter was a cottony jumble. She’d said she was pregnant, and I’d said… something. I must’ve said something, or had I not? Had I just stood there, or worse, run away? I’d been late to see Dad. Late and distracted. Then Morris had poked out, and?—

“Sam.”

I cleared my throat. “Yes. It’s been great.”

Dad stared at me like I’d grown two heads. “What’s been great?”

“What you said. The transition.” I straightened up, trying to look calm.

“I said that five minutes ago.” Dad took a good look at me and his brows drew together. He clapped his hands twice, a familiar gesture. “All right, that’s it. Everyone out. No, not you, Sam.” He set his hand on my shoulder. Morris got up, and the rest of the VPs. They filed out, some stopping to shake Dad’s hand. He brushed them off brusquely and shut the door behind them.

“What’s the matter with you? I swear you look drunk.”

I pushed my chair back as he leaned down to smell me. “I’m not drunk. I’m fine.”

“Then what was I saying before ‘It’s been great?’”

I shrugged, feeling ten years old. A kid in trouble.

“If it’s not drink, what is it? Can’t you handle the pace? Because if it’s the job?—”

“Lana’s pregnant.”

Dad blinked. “Who’s Lana?”

I clenched my fists. “Lana. The one with the bookshop. The one I was living with when you kicked me out.”

“I didn’t kick you out,” said Dad. “I sent you to… Wait. Are you saying it’s yours?”

I flung my hands in the air. “What did you think I meant?”

“I thought you meant your assistant. Is she not called Lana?”

My assistant was Rashida. She’d been Dad’s assistant before mine. He’d known her how long, and never learned her name?

“Anyway, that’s great. Congratulations.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Did you just find out?”

It was my turn to sit blinking like a dazed fighter. I didn’t know what I’d expected from Dad, but a casual congrats bottomed the list. He was shuffling through papers like this hardly mattered, like I’d just told him I’d got a new haircut.

“We’ll have a party,” he said. “Let everyone meet her.”

“A party? What?”

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