Page 3 of The Billionaire's Christmas Baby Surprise

“I think you can just say e-vite,” Billie told her.

“Sure, sure, e-vitation. Anyway, I know you’re busy this time of year, and I just wanted to make sure you’d have time to come.”

“I will, I promise. I know how important Thanksgiving dinner is.” The holidays were the best time of the year in Billie’s family. When she’d been younger, her family had struggled to make ends meet and their Thanksgiving celebrations had relied on food pantries. Christmas gifts had come from toy donations and secondhand stores. Still, the holidays had always been a magical time. As adults, Billie’s oldest brother had become a cardiothoracic surgeon so that he could support their parents, and Billie had opened a charity to help other families like hers. Now, their holidays were accompanied by plenty of food andbeautifully wrapped gifts, but they hadn’t lost their Christmas magic.

“Okay. Good. And don’t worry about the green beans.”

Billie laughed as she locked her front door and hurried down the hallway. “All right, then.”

“Are you off somewhere?” Gloria asked.

“Yep. I have a charity gala tonight.”

“A gala. How fancy. Maybe you’ll meet someone.” The hope was plain to hear in Billie’s mother’s voice. All of Billie’s three siblings had already settled down and gotten married, including her younger sister, who was only twenty-eight. At thirty, Billie was still single — and she didn’t see that changing anytime soon.

“I’m a little more focused on fundraising than flirting,” Billie told her mother. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I see the bus coming around the corner.”

“Bye! Love you!” Gloria hung up, and Billie put her phone back in her purse with a smile. Talking to her mother was yet another reminder of why she needed tonight to go well. Gloria had always worried about making sure her children had a happy Christmas, and Billie didn’t want any other mothers to have to worry about that.

The bus arrived and Billie got on. It was a long ride from her house to the gala downtown, so she put in her earbuds and leaned back. Outside, the low buildings and frosty parks of her neighborhood gave way to skyscrapers and busy intersections as the bus rolled towards the heart of Denver.

It’s going to be okay,Billie told herself.You’ll get the money you need.

She just wished she could believe that.

CHAPTER 3

MAX

Max smoothed his tie and looked up at City Hall, where the gala was being held. The hall had been completely made over for Thanksgiving. Bales of hay stood beside the tall double doors, and the windows were decorated with handprint turkeys made, Max guessed from their quality, by local schoolchildren. Enormous pumpkins and ears of shucked corn with the leaves still attached lined the stairs up to the front door.

“Come on.” Stephanie prodded his shoulder. “Let’s go in.”

“How long do I need to stay at this thing?” Max asked. “I have more work to do this evening.”

“You’ll stay as long as it takes.” Stephanie nodded to a pair of cameramen who were taking shots of the guests as they arrived. “Smile.”

Max smiled, but his heart wasn’t in it. He really did have a lot of work to do, and the fact that this gala was holiday-themed made everything that much worse. Max just didn’t understand whyeveryone got so excited about a few hay bales and some paper turkeys covered in feathers and glitter glue.

He and Stephanie headed inside. Most of the attendees had already arrived, it seemed. Max and Stephanie handed their coats in at the coat check and stepped into the main room. This, too, had been decorated for Thanksgiving with overflowing cornucopias, fall-leaf wreaths, and more handmade handprint turkeys.

“I’ll be networking as well, to help us find some good charities,” Stephanie said. “It’s important that you’re seen talking and enjoying yourself.”

“Will do.”

“I’ll see you around.” Stephanie peeled off to talk to a group near the refreshments table, and Max wandered in the other direction. Waiters were meandering through the crowd with platters of Thanksgiving-themed hors d’oeuvres. Of course.

“Can I interest you in a mini pumpkin pie, sir?” one waiter asked.

“I’m all right at the moment, thank you.” Max smiled politely at the waiter. He might not be excited about the food on offer, but he’d worked in a Bluebell Diner location for a while before he’d taken over the company, and he knew the difficulties of working in the food industry. He wasn’t about to be rude to the staff tonight — or any night.

A few people greeted Max as he walked by. Several held fliers and brochures in their hands or bags, and Max imagined that these were the charity representatives. Sooner or later, he’d need to start talking to people, but before the evening really kicked off, he wanted to find a quiet spot and answer a few urgentemails. Luckily, he spotted a free bench along the far wall and took a seat. There were a half dozen unanswered emails in his account.

The top email was from his father, Jim Grayson. Jim was the founder of Bluebell Diner and, although he no longer worked at the company, he was still involved in Bluebell’s affairs. Max decided that he’d look at the email later. He was already in a bad mood and didn’t want to make things worse.

The next email was from Stephanie and contained a list of charity representatives Max should talk to tonight. He went on to the next email and spent a few minutes evaluating CVs for his new temporary head of HR — the previous head was about to go on maternity leave and wouldn’t be back until Easter.

“Ahem.” Max looked up at the sound of a throat being cleared and saw Stephanie standing in front of him, her hands on her hips. “Is this what you call networking?”

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