Page 6 of The Grumpy Billionaire Baby Daddy

She hands the bottle over to me and goes to speak with the nurse at the front desk before disappearing. I gulp the whole thing at a go, shutting my eyes to relish the coolness washing over me. A quiet belch escapes my throat, and I press my lips together.

The seat beside me remains conspicuously unoccupied, yet an alluring magazine beckons with its captivating cover page - a stunning portrait of a strapping young man. My fingers eagerly grasp the publication, and as I raise it to my line of sight, a sense of familiarity washes over me as I lock gazes with the striking individual on its cover. With an insatiable curiosity, I peruse the written text accompanying the photo:

Inside the Greene Empire.

Greene? As in Jason Greene, the business mogul? My hands fly over my mouth as pictures of the night from three weeks ago flood my senses.

Whoa.

I can’t believe this.

The Adonis guy is Jason Greene.

I slept with Jason Greene! What?

My heart pounds as I look over his photo again. Am I dreaming? But no, it’s real. It’s very real. Same fierce eyes. Same hair. It was black, after all. His eyes are dark brown, and he's wearing a scowl. The black shirt with white cross patterns hugs his frame as he crosses his arms.

“Fiona McCall?”

I jerk and look up. It's the front desk nurse. She smiles at me.

“The doctor will see you now.”

I stand up and walk up to her. She points to the hallway.

“Down the hallway, second office on the left.”

The checkered floor is squeaky clean and makes a squeaky sound as my sole glides over it. I look up at the doors in the hallway until I come to the second one on the left.

I knock.

“Come in,” the voice calls from the other side. I push the door and walk in. A thin man in glasses sits behind a small brown table. The transparent nameplate on his table reads, “Dr. Jimmy Fall.” Beside the plate is a picture frame of him and a kid in glasses wearing a baseball hat.

A small bookshelf hangs on the left side of the office, with five large books sitting on it.

“Hello, miss. Please have a seat.”

I sit, placing both hands in between my legs.

“What's your name?”

“Fiona McCall.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Not good. For a couple of days, I've experienced splitting headaches and nausea. My appetite is a little weird; I haven't eaten any real food in two days.”

Not to mention I just found out the man I slept with three weeks ago is Jason Greene.

I don’t add that part but the words form a painful lump in my throat. He studies me in silence and proceeds to scribble in a note.

“Have you checked if your breasts are tender?”

“Uhh…I don't know. I haven't paid attention to that.”

“Have you seen your period this month?”

I look up, twitching my lips. I haven't exactly been one to monitor that, but this is the last week of the month. It should come this week.

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