Page 11 of Billionaire's Frenemy

“You are not,” she replied, not buying into my dramatics, a skill she’d developed from dealing with hormonal middle schoolers. “Tell me what you did and why the lies. I’m guessing you haven’t told Hot Brother Number Five that he’s going to be a daddy before all his older brothers will be.”

“Ding ding ding! Give the girl a prize,” I deadpanned.

“What happened?”

“I told him the truth, and he took it the wrong way. I mean…I wasn’t specific. I didn’t say, ‘Hey you’re the dad. Surprise!’ But the dingbat should be able to figure things out. I mean he was a frigging Math major in college. He just doesn’t want to see thetruth because then he’d have to do something. And he definitely doesn’t want to do something because he doesn’t love me.”

“And…you want him to dosomething?”

“No! Not if he doesn’t love me. I’m not an obligation!”

“You’re making me dizzy, friend. Look, I know what you grew up with, and it sounds horrible. Still, I know the Cassels and I know Jameson, just like you do—well, not exactly like you do. The thing is, he’s not like your father. He has feelings for you. If you told him that he was going to be a dad, he’d be all in. One hundred percent invested.”

“I know.” He’d be all in for his child. I was being selfish because I wanted more.

“And doesn’t he deserve to know?”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“And…”

“God, I can tell you’re used to dealing with junior high kids,” I complained, annoyed more at myself than at her.

“And annoying besties,” she laughed. “So…”

“I know I have to tell him the baby is his, and I know he will be the best dad he can be, but I don’t want him to choose me because he has to, you know? I don’t want to be second choice. I want to be his first choice. I never will be. He’s told me a million times he doesn’t love me.”

“What?” she asked in disbelief.

“It’s a thing between us. I say ‘You love me,’ and he says ‘Never going to happen.’ I mean, I’m not a rocket scientist, but—”

“Obviously,” she deadpanned, interrupting me.

“What?” I said, echoing her question from a second ago.

“Don’t you think maybe that’s a game between the two of you? He’s playingthe game?”

Crap. Was he? Could Jameson possiblyactuallylove me? Likelove melove me?

“Oh no…” I breathed.

“Willow?” she asked.

“He’s going to hate me when I tell him,” I whispered.

“He might be angry, but he’ll get over it. You two snipe at each other like crazy, but that man could never hate you.”

I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “I don’t know. This is pretty big. He’s going to hate me and fire me and try to take the baby—”

“Whoa! Okay, there, let’s put the brakes on the overdramatic, hormonal train, girl. I have known all the Cassels long enough to know Jameson would never hurt you.”

“She’s got that right, though I might fucking spank you,” an angry voice growled from the doorway to my office—the door I’d closed but was now open. Jameson looked thunderous yet a little bemused. I wondered how much he’d heard. Too much probably.

“Penny, I’ve got to go,” I said.

“Sounds like it. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” I disconnected and looked up at the man I loved, the man who looked like he could strangle me right now. “Jamie—”

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