Page 18 of Oops Baby for the Billionaire
“I can do it myself.”
He frowns. “Why won’t you accept help?”
Because it would only lead to more questions. I shrug noncommittally.
“I want to come to the appointment.”
“You can’t. That’s private!”
“I’ll wait outside until the baby related parts.”
“Youcan’t. It’s all the way across town, and?—”
“Why do you go to a doctor all the way across town?”
“Because I can’t afford a private doctor!” The words tear out of me. “I went to the student health clinic when I realized I was pregnant and they were good to me, so I kept going, and I can’t afford a private doctor, but that’s fine and?—”
“Student health?” His face goes pale. “Fucking hell. You’re incollege?”
My stomach turns over. “Yes. Part-time now, because I needed to get this job. I go to Appleton University.”
He rakes his fingers through his close-cropped beard. “How old are you?”
“Twenty.”
“Fuck.” He covers his mouth, his thumb and middle finger pulling at his bottom lip as he frowns at me. “Whatever you need, Willa… I’ll provide it. You don’t need to work.”
“I like this job. I like working in general.”
“What are you studying at Appleton?”
“Art. That’s, uh, how I got this job.” I glance at the clock on the wall. “And you’re late for your meeting with my bosses, so if you could not tell them that I’m the reason you’re late, that would be great.”
He huffs an unimpressed laugh. “Yeah. Your secret is safe with me, Willa. Jesus.”
“Thanks.”
He shakes his head. “Fuck. Listen, I’m going to go now. But I’ll be back before the end of the day. And Iamgoing with you to that appointment.”
Chapter 10
Roman
The first thingI do when I get out of the meeting with the CurateMe execs is summon my head of security to my office.
I’m furious for myself for assuming that Willa was a guest and not at that party in another capacity. But why do I pay a trained professional if not to consider all possible angles?
He arrives within minutes, his expression neutral as always. I’ve always appreciated his reserved nature, but today that composure grates on my already frayed nerves.
“Sit,” I command, though I remain standing behind my desk.
He sits.
“Four months ago, I asked you to find a woman named Willa who attended the Techbridge Worldwide party.” My voice is deceptively calm. “Do you remember what you told me?”
“We looked into it. No such person existed on the guest list.”
“Theguestlist.” I lean forward, planting my fists on the desk. “When you run security for an event, do only the guests matter? Or should you consider every single person who enters the premises a potential security concern?”
