Page 15 of The Grumpy Billionaire Baby Daddy

I press my palm to my forehead and exhale, forming an “O” with my lips.

"When you make up your mind, you know where to find me."

I rise to my feet and stride away in search of hamburgers. Deep down, I had sensed that this rendezvous was doomed from the start. However, I was unprepared for Jason's blatant lack of empathy. If this was a glimpse of his true character, then I knew I was in for a bumpy ride – one that I was not yet equipped to handle. I shake my head ruefully. Fate had a twisted sense of humor, forcing me to coexist with an individual who lacked basic decency. How quintessentially ironic.

Chapter 6

Jason

Asmyeyesflutteropen, a searing headache rips through my consciousness, causing me to groan and clutch my pounding skull. Blinking in confusion, I struggle to orient myself in my unfamiliar surroundings. Where on earth am I? Struggling to sit up, I scan the blurry room with bleary eyes, trying to make sense of the indistinct shapes and shadows. But then, my gaze falls upon the source of the gentle snoring, and I realize I'm not alone. A tousled redhead lies beside me, her smooth skin exposed to the air, and my heart begins to race with panic.

My phone, lying on the bedside table, catches my eye. I glance at the screen - seven o'clock in the morning and three missed calls from Eva. My battery is running low, and there's no charger in sight. As the realization of my predicament dawns on me, my mind races to recall the events of the previous night, which trickle back to me in disjointed fragments. Fiona's unexpected pregnancy had been weighing on me all day, and I had been struggling to come to a decision. Overcome with the emotions, I sought refuge in a strip club, hoping to forget my troubles for a while. But then, how had I ended up taking a woman home with me from the club? Despite my best efforts to remember, my mind draws a blank. All I can remember is being thoroughly inebriated, to the point of stupefaction. A deep sigh of relief escapes my lips as I realize that, despite my hazy memory, I have not made the grave mistake of taking a stranger back to my own home. For the sake of both safety and discretion, I have always adhered to a strict rule - never to engage in fuck encounters at my house, a friend's house, or any other public spot. Instead, I opt for a motel, and if none is available, I cancel it altogether. It started out as a simple precaution, a way to avoid the complications that come with having strangers know my address. But as time passed, it became a matter of principle.

I look over at the redhead still sleeping.

I don't even know her name.

I walk to the bathroom, groaning with every step and rubbing my forehead. It's a good thing I'm still on leave; this would've been a shitshow. I step into the shower and wash away all the anxiety from overthinking. I don't want to think about Fiona, but she gave me one week, and my mind keeps running over it again. After my bath, I pick everything up and exit the building. Nothing about this place elicits any memory from last night - the staleness of the air, the dead silence, the wall stains. The reception counter is empty. When I walk out the door, the sun's brightness hits my eyes, and I use my arms as shade. Where did I park my car? A memory comes to me —I drove the Audi out last night.

Shit, I drove drunk?

I cast my eyes around the parking lot, scanning for a white Audi. My eyes land on it, parked near the exit, and I stride purposefully towards it. As I reach for my keys, a momentary panic grips me - have I misplaced them? I tap my left back pocket, but they're not there. With a wave of relief, I check my right pocket, and my fingers close around the familiar metal. Slipping into the driver's seat, I start the engine and accelerate smoothly out of the lot. As I drive down the familiar road, I realize with a jolt that I'm close to my office.

"Move, dude!" a man calls from the car behind. I wave for him to go past me, and as he speeds past, he scowls. "Quit driving like a sissy."

The traffic on this road is light, and as I come to a halt, my phone vibrates. It's Eva again.

"Hello?"

"Where have you been? I called all night. I even called Richard, he said he had no idea where you went."

"I went out, I needed to clear my head."

"You sound like shit."

I roll my eyes and nod.

"I have a hangover, and you're not helping."

"Aww. Are you home yet? I wanna come over."

"I'm not, and I'll go to sleep once I'm home. I'd prefer to be alone."

"Okay, I'll check on you later. Be good, alright? Bye."

The call ends just when I arrive at the house.

With a casual toss, I fling my keys onto the console in the entrance lobby before making my way toward the living room. As I step inside, I notice my mother seated on the couch, her chin resting in her palms. A sense of unease creeps up on me - her expression seems troubled, and I can't help but wonder what might have caused it.

"Where have you been?"

"Mom, not now." I groan. "I have a hangover and I really need to get some rest."

Her nose flares.

"You're not getting any younger, Jason Benjamin Greene. You're a grown man, and a man your age should be going home to a family - a wife, kids. You're thirty-seven, almost forty and there's no heir yet. How can you be so irresponsible?"

"Mom! Drop it! I will do what I want, when and how I want, and it's not up for debate."

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