Page 3 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry from frustration. The real world… What world did he think I lived in? I got up every day like anyone else, ate my breakfast, came in to work. And I worked longer hours than most, fourteen-hour days. I made it home just in time for a workout, and maybe to mess with some carpentry project. Then I’d fall into bed, rinse and repeat. The ‘real world,’ for me, would be a vacation.

“Fine,” I said. “Yeah.” I shook his hand. “How long does my challenge run?”

“Till I see you’re thriving. Or I’ll call it a year from now, if it looks like you’re not.”

It took all I had not to roll my eyes at him. Thriving, what a joke. I’d build up some capital, start a new business. Sell it in six months and fly home first class. Better yet, in a private jet, just to rub his face in it.

“See you soon,” I said. “Have the champagne on ice for me.”

Dad’s lips quirked up, but his eyes stayed hard. I’d never yet seen him proud of me, and I doubted passing this test would change that. Even the wildest success would just be… expected. But that wouldn’t matter, once I had his seat.

I’d never have to worry about what he thought again.

CHAPTER 2

LANA

If there was one thing I could count on, it was the rhythm of my work day.

I headed downstairs at eight on the dot, watering can in one hand, dog treat in my pocket. Mrs. Schneiderman’s schnauzer was guarding the door. He watched as I watered each flowerbed in turn, each blooming window box, each hanging plant.

“Hey, Wiener,” I said to him, when I was done. He pricked up his ears, but he stayed where he was. It was Wiener’s mission to break into my shop, and every morning, he set up camp to that end. Every morning, I lured him away with a milk bone, then I ducked inside before he could follow. He pressed his nose on the glass, thwarted again.

“Nothing here for you, bud. See, it’s just books.” I held one up. Wiener stood panting. Then a gate slammed next door and he scurried away.

I heard Mrs. Schneiderman scolding him. “Bad dog. Bad Wiener!” She called over to me. “Morning, sweetheart!”

“Morning, Mrs. Schneiderman.” I stuck my head out the window. “Feels like a hot one.”

“Perfect spring weather.” She opened her own store and shooed Wiener inside. “I had that gate fixed. I don’t know how he got out.”

Over it was my guess, same as every other day. But I just laughed. I didn’t mind Wiener. He was part of my morning, like starting the coffee. Which I proceeded to do, then I found a washcloth. I wiped down the table in the kids’ section, somehow sticky again, though we didn’t allow food. I put a few misshelved books back in their places, straightened the summer reads on their display racks. I was just cracking open our latest new shipment when the front door swung open and Alice walked in.

“Coffee’s ready,” I called.

“Ooh, you’re an angel!” She hurried to the break room and soon I heard pouring, then the clink of her spoon as she stirred in sugar. Alice was a new hire, but I loved her already, always on time, always happy to be here. She peered over my shoulder, sipping her coffee. “What’s that on top?”

I frowned. “I don’t know.” I pulled out what looked like a cardboard deckchair. It had been packed flat, but now it fell open. “Some kind of display, I guess. I’ll set it up later.”

“A lounger,” said Alice. “Beach reads. I get it. You put a book in it, see? And a little umbrella.” She pulled out an oversized cocktail parasol. I groaned, trying to figure out where I’d put that. I had room for endcaps and storefront displays, but not this sort of odd-shaped non-standard nonsense. Maybe in the front window, if I cleared out some space.

Alice checked the wall clock and flipped the store sign to open. I got to work on the new display, setting it up. I got kind of into it after a while, adding a colorful placemat to serve as a beach towel, a line of blue books piled in a wave. I left one open on top, a pale fan of sea foam. By the time I’d done that and packed up the old display, the kids were arriving from morning daycare. I hurried to greet them.

“Hey, Katie, Daniel! Ready for story hour?”

Katie yawned hugely. Daniel scratched his nose. Sharon, their teacher, herded them inside.

“Sorry,” she said. “We’ve had an eventful morning.” She steered the rest of the kids in, and back to the reading nook. I followed, smiling.

“Eventful how?”

“Mike found a newt. Didn’t you, Mike?” She suppressed a shudder. “He sneaked it in with him and set it loose in the nap room, and the screaming, the shouting, the jumping on tables…”

I tried not to laugh, but a giggle broke through. “What ended up happening? Was the newt okay?”

“Oh, the newt’s fine. Fit as a fiddle. My head, on the other hand…” She rubbed at her temples.

“Alice’ll get you a coffee. And I think we have aspirin.”

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