Page 53 of Don't Fall for the Billionaire
“He didn’t know. I just picked some up this afternoon at the grocery store. So, Ashton tells me you’re a wellness influencer.”
“I am. I have two million followers on Instagram and three million on TikTok.”
“And what exactly is a wellness influencer?”
I lightly kicked her under the table.
“I help people feel better about themselves. I create makeup tutorials, hair tutorials, nail tutorials, and exercise tutorials. In fact, I need everyone to be quiet for a moment.” She picked up her phone and started taking a video of the table filled with food. “Got it.” She grinned.
“And what will you caption that video?” Charlotte asked.
“Family bonding time, silly. Oh my God. Do you have Instagram? We can be Insta buddies.”
“I don’t post that much.”
She held her phone in her hand. “What’s your Insta handle?”
“Charlottebakes,” she said.
“Oh.” Her brows furrowed. “What’s with all the pies? Like, your Instagram profile is all pies.”
“Because I bake pies.”
“Sounds boring.” She shrugged. “I don’t do sugar. It’s very unhealthy. I hope you control Eloise’s sugar intake, Ashton.”
“We have a sugar rule in this house. You can never have enough.” I grinned.
She furrowed her brows at me, and it took everything I had not to burst out laughing.
“Since we’re all enjoying this lovely dinner together, there’s something I need to tell you, son,” Cameron spoke.
“What is it, Dad?” I stabbed a green bean with my fork.
“Margo is pregnant. We’re having a baby.”
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “You’re what?” I set my fork down.
“We’re having a baby.” My father beamed, grabbing hold of Margo’s hand and gently squeezing it. She flashed her perfectly white teeth and placed her other hand on her still flat belly.
“Dad, you do realize that when this kid graduates high school, you’ll be seventy-seven?”
“Seventy-eight, actually. The baby is due a week after my birthday.”
“Oh, well, that makes it completely reasonable then,” I said, my voice covered with sarcasm. “Have you two considered that you’ll be attending parent-teacher conferences with people who could be your grandchildren?”
“Not me. I’m only twenty-eight.” Margo giggled.
“What’s done is done, son. We’re having a baby, and you need to accept the fact that you’re going to have a brother or sister.”
This was unbelievable. I was livid that he could be so stupid. But I needed to stay calm until I could speak to him alone.
“How about some dessert?” Charlotte grinned. “I made a peach pie.”
“Peach pie is my favorite.” My father smiled.
“I’ll help you.” I got up and followed her into the kitchen. “I cannot fucking believe this.” I gripped the edge of the island.
“Calm down, Ashton.”
