Page 50 of The Billionaire's Christmas Baby Surprise

Or maybe not. Billie got to her feet, straightened her dress, and went to rejoin her family in the dining room. They were all laughing at something adorable Noah had said, and Billie slipped easily into a free spot at the table. Jamie caught her eye and smiled from across the table, Gloria slid a slice of ham onto Billie’s plate, and Mark ruffled her hair like they were still kids. Christmas music played in the background, the tree twinkled from the living room, and the table was surrounded by smiles, laughter, and happy chatter. For now, it was enough. At least herbaby would grow up with a loving and involved extended family — even if the baby’s father wouldn’t be in the picture.

CHAPTER 21

MAX

Max’s apartment felt quiet. Very quiet. And empty.

It had always been that way, of course. Ever since Max had moved in several years ago, he’d lived alone, and he’d preferred that things were both neat and quiet. Today, though, on December twenty-third, he found that he didn’t appreciate the quiet as much as usual. Instead, the lack of distraction left him thinking about Billie far too much, which wasn’t good for him.

Max had spent the better part of the morning catching up on emails, but he was now in the rare position of having no work left to do. He couldn’t do anything else until he returned to the office with the rest of his employees on December twenty-eighth. The prospect of four empty days, one of them Christmas, with no work to do stretched dauntingly in front of him.

Max prepared a snack in the kitchen and went to the living room, where he flipped on the TV. Canned laughter and Christmas music rang out on seemingly every channel. It seemed that no one was playing anything other than Christmas rom-coms, Christmas-themed TV episodes, and Christmas-based comedyspecials. Of course, every mention of Christmas reminded Max of Billie. What was she doing today? She’d mentioned something about going to her parents’ home on the twenty-third. Hopefully, she was surrounded by loving family. Hopefully, she didn’t feel an ounce of the loneliness and regret that Max did.

With a sigh, he flipped off the TV. The dancing animated reindeer and their cheerful Christmas song disappeared, leaving his apartment even quieter and emptier than it had been before.

Max got to his feet. He did have one Christmas obligation that he could do today, one he usually dreaded: visiting his parents. Visits to his parents almost never went the way Max wanted. No matter how nicely everything started out, he and his father always ended up discussing business, and the conversation often turned ugly. Jim Grayson could never stop himself from commenting on all the things Max could have done better, which always left Max feeling like a failure.

Maybe, instead of trying to follow in your father’s footsteps and always feeling like you’re falling short, it’s time to pave your own path.Billie’s words from the night of the Christmas party echoed in Max’s head. For a moment, he wished that she were by his side to visit his parents with him. Then the moment passed, and Max realized that even if he could be with Billie, it wouldn’t be fair to force her into his family drama. It was better that he handled this himself.

Max picked out a bottle of wine from the kitchen and headed down to the garage. It seemed like no one was on the road today. Perhaps it was the chill weather, or perhaps everyone simply had better things to do than driving around today.

Max’s parents had moved into a sprawling house at the edge of the city when they’d retired. It always took a while to drive there,so Max often found his thoughts wandering to work while he drove. Today, of course, it was Billie who filled his mind. Billie and the baby.

She was around seven weeks pregnant now, if Max had gotten the calculations right. Some self-destructive instinct had pushed him to look up information on the internet, so he knew that Billie might be feeling nausea and tenderness, and that she might be more tired than usual. He also knew that the baby, their baby, was currently the size of a grape.

Max hoped that Billie wouldn’t be too tired and sick to enjoy Christmas. He hoped she’d take it easy with deliveries this year, letting her volunteers and employees take over the majority of the work — although he doubted she would. He hoped that the little grape-sized baby was doing well.

He hoped he would be strong enough to keep his distance, despite the pull he felt to call Billie and tell her he’d made a terrible mistake.

Finally, Max arrived outside his parents’ home. After waiting for them to buzz the gate open, he pulled into the parking area and got out, the bottle of wine in his hand. His mother came outside to meet him and enveloped him in a quick hug.

“How are you, Max?” she asked.

“Not too bad,” he replied.

“Great. I was just making dinner, so go sit with your father in the living room until it’s ready.”

“All right. Thanks for cooking. You really didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense. I like to cook, just like you do, and I want to spoil my only son a little.” She led him inside, where Max shed hiscoat and took off his shoes before letting her propel him into the living room. His father was sitting on the couch reading a newspaper. A cup of coffee steamed on the table beside him.

The first thing that struck Max was the lack of Christmassy cheer in the room. As a child, he’d been used to it, but he’d just spent the better part of a month surrounded by wrapped gifts and fragrant pine trees and glittering Christmas lights. It was strange to see a room that looked so dark and so ordinary.

“Max.” Jim looked up from his newspaper and gave his son a nod of acknowledgement. “Nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Dad.” Max took a seat on the chair across from his father. Jim gave another nod, then lifted the newspaper again and returned to his reading. Max held back a sigh. His father didn’t even seem willing to make an effort to talk to him. Max considered just getting out his phone but decided against it. Whether or not Jim was feeling chatty, they needed to talk.

“How are you?” Max asked.

“Fine.” Jim creased the newspaper to look at another section.

“Great.” There was a long pause. “Aren’t you going to ask how I’m doing?”

Jim slowly lowered the newspaper and met his son’s eyes. “I saw you four days ago at the Christmas party. I know you’re doing fine, so I don’t really see the need for small talk.”

“We can talk about something else, then.”

“All right. Do you have your year-end reporting yet from the branches? Anything I should know about?”

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