Page 54 of Don't Fall for the Billionaire
“Calm down?” I spoke through gritted teeth. “My fifty-nine-year-old father just told me that he and his flake of a girlfriend are having a baby!”
“I know. I was there.” She reached into the cabinet and pulled down some plates. “Can you grab the forks, please?”
I opened the drawer and took out some forks.
“Just keep your cool until after they leave,” she said.
“After we eat this pie, I want you to distract Margo so I can speak to my father alone.”
“How do you want me to do that?” Charlotte asked, cocking her head.
“I don’t know. Think of something.” I walked out of the kitchen.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ashton
I lifted my fork, and it felt like heaven in my mouth. This was the best damn pie I’d ever had.
“Charlotte, this is amazing,” my father said. “You have a real talent.”
“Thank you, Cameron.” She smiled.
“It’s delicious, Charlotte.”
“Thanks, Ashton.”
“I have an idea,” Charlotte said. “Margo, I know it’s dark out, but the porch is so well lit. How about we go out front, and I can take some videos of you with the porch serving as a fall backdrop in New York City?”
“Oh my God! What a fabulous idea. Let’s do it.”
I glanced at Charlotte and smiled. “Thank you.” I mouthed. “Can I pour you a scotch, Dad?”
“That would be great, son.”
We went into the living room, and I poured each of us a drink.
“How could you get her pregnant, Dad?”
“It happened, son.”
“Do you even love her?”
“I do.”
“Enough to marry her? Because I was there for your marriage to Mom, remember?”
“Really, Ashton?”
“Did she get pregnant on purpose to trap you?”
“No. It just happened. We were both shocked. Listen, I’m not crazy about the idea of starting over as a father. But Margo is young and can handle it.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“Well, I have a company to run and don’t plan on retiring anytime soon. You know my work is my life, just as work is yours. You don’t spend time with Eloise, and don’t pretend that you do. It’s our job to provide a secure future for our children. I’ll do right by this child.”
The laugh that escaped me was humorless. “Right by this child? You mean the way you did right by me? The missed birthdays, Little League games, and school functions? By letting me grow up in a war zone of cheating and screaming until you and Mom finally came to your senses and split up?”
