Page 50 of A Baby For Her Billionaire BFF

With or without Oliver Wolfe.

CHAPTER 25

OLIVER

Ishuffle paper, pens, and knickknacks across my desk, trying to arrange the chaos into something resembling order. It’s a futile attempt at normalcy on a morning that’s anything but. The numbers and figures on the contract before me might as well be in ancient Greek for all the sense they make.

I need to focus. Need to get it together.

But it’s no use. Nora’s face swims before my eyes, her voice echoing the words that have knocked my world off its axis. Pregnant. She’s pregnant. And despite the myriad of emotions tangled up inside me, there’s an undercurrent of something else — something that feels suspiciously like excitement.

A knock on the door pulls me from my reverie, and I bark a curt, “Come in.”

“Hey, boss. You wanted me to look over the Phelps file?” Alex, one of my assistants, steps in, his tone eager, eyes bright.

“Change of plans,” I say, forcing my attention back to the papers strewn across my desk. “Could you take this contract down to… actually, hold on.”

I pause, scanning the document for the hundredth time, pretending to search for something I’ve missed. The truth is, I need a moment longer to wallow in thoughts of Nora. To wonder about the tiny life we created and what it means for our future.

“Oliver?” Alex prompts, tilting his head slightly.

“Right, sorry.” I shake my head, clearing the fog of daydreams. “Can you get these to Nora? She’ll know what to do.”

“About that…” Alex hesitates in a way that tells me I’m not going to like what comes next. “Nora called in sick today. Said she wasn’t feeling well.”

Sick? My heart clenches at the thought of Nora alone, dealing with whatever sickness that must have hit her. Is it something related to her pregnancy?

The urge to rush to her side battles with the responsibilities that anchor me to this office. In the end, I stay firmly seated in my chair.

“Okay.” I manage to keep my voice steady. “Just leave them with me, then. I’ll handle it.”

“Sure thing.” Alex places the file back on my desk, eyes lingering on me for a moment too long. He can probably see the worry etched on my face, the distraction I can’t quite hide.

“Thanks, Alex,” I say, dismissing him with a nod.

As soon as the door clicks shut, my mind races with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. What if something’s wrong? What if Nora needs me and I’m just sitting here, shuffling papers around like they mean anything compared to her and our baby?

“Get a grip,” I mutter, pushing back from the desk. But my hands are shaking, betraying the cool exterior I’m desperately trying to maintain.

I stare at the closed door, half-tempted to go after her, then back at the silent phone on my desk. I should call her up instead and make sure she’s okay.

“Work,” I whisper, a lifeline in the storm of uncertainty. “Focus on work.”

But as I try to bury myself in my tasks, every fiber of my being knows the truth; I’m just killing time until I can see her again, until I can figure this whole mess out.

The phone rings, a shrill echo in the silence of my office. I almost don’t answer, my head in a fog of work and Nora’s absence. But it’s Dad, and who knows if he’s calling with good or bad news. I ignored his last couple of calls — not exactly the new leaf I planned on turning over when it comes to him.

So I swipe at the screen, pressing the speaker to my ear.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, trying to sound normal.

“Oliver, son. Just wanted to give you an update.” His voice is surprisingly upbeat, considering the circumstances. “Chemo went well today. Knocked me on my ass, but the doc says that’s to be expected.”

Relief washes through me. “That’s great to hear, Dad. Really.”

“Yeah, yeah… but enough about me. How’s Nora?” he asks, and there’s a subtle shift in his tone, like he’s squinting over the line, trying to read my face.

“Uh, she’s, uh…” I stumble over my words, scrambling for an excuse. “Under the weather. Called in sick today.”

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