Page 20 of Working For A Billionaire

"Apparently, Mrs. Bradley likes having a variety of friends," Jasper says with a grin.

"I'm telling you," Gloria says, wagging her finger at Jasper. "Her husband is going to find out one of these days."

Harrison is still not home for dinner, but Gloria and Jasper are both there, looking concerned. We make small talk about the construction across the street and Jasper's phone call with his sister, but my mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of Harrison and the baby.

"Is everything okay, Miss Riley?" Gloria asks, sounding worried.

"I just have a lot on my mind," I reply, hoping she won't press the issue.

"I know it's not easy talking to us," Jasper says. "Especially when it is about Mr. Harrison, but if you want to talk, we will listen. I promise you it will go no further than the three of us."

"I appreciate that, Jasper," I reply, touched by their concern. "I just wish Harrison was more involved in all of this. It is starting to feel like I am going through this alone."

"Maybe you should talk to him about it," Gloria suggests. "Sometimes men can be oblivious to what is going on around them. They get so focused on their careers that they lose sight of everything else. You have to tell them what you are thinking, because they will never figure it out on their own."

I nod. "You're right. I will talk to him as soon as I get a chance."

Harrison's arrival home is a welcome sight. The hours have dragged on as I sit alone in the living room, my thoughts turning to my late father and the time we lost when he passed away. Ten years have gone by, yet it still feels like yesterday. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I imagine what it would be like to have him here, to see his grandchild grow up and to be a part of our family. As Harrison enters the room, I can see the stress and exhaustion he carries with him. We both know that with neither of our fathers around, the baby will need his father more than ever.

I take a seat next to Harrison as he settles into his chair. "Long day?" I ask, trying to make conversation.

He sighs and shakes his head. "No longer than usual," he replies. "Sometimes I can't help but wonder why I chose to work with other people's finances. It's like they're constantly looking over your shoulder, trying to catch you making any tiny mistake."

I chuckle, thinking of my own mother. "Sounds familiar," I say, giving him a knowing smile.

He laughs and nods. "Yeah, it's like my mom too."

He gets up from his chair and walks over to the bar to fix himself a drink while telling me about his day. I hang on every word, thankful to have someone to talk to.

Harrison sits back down in his chair and takes another sip of his scotch. "How was your day?" He asks, letting out a sigh.

"It was fine. I worked in the nursery and talked to my mom. Nothing exciting."

I lay back on the couch and close my eyes. I can hear Harrison moving around in the room. After a few minutes, I also feel his presence near me as the sound of his breathing draws closer. I didn’t even notice that I fell asleep.

He leans close to me, whispering my name. "Riley," he says softly. I look up at him, my eyes are still heavy with sleep. "I'm going to help you to your room. The couch isn't comfortable enough to sleep on."

I thank him as he helps me up. "I sent you some videos I want you to watch. They explain more about home births. Will you please watch them?"

He nods, his face serious. "Yes, I will watch them."

We make our way to my room, and he helps me to bed. I’m lost in that state between wakefulness and sleep, and I’m not even sure what is real and what isn’t. But when he gently brushes the hair away from my face, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek, I know that is real.

I smile, my eyes already starting to drift shut again. "Goodnight," I murmur, and he silently slips out of the room.

Chapter Eight

Harrison

The images from the home birth video are not something I wanted to see. In fact, I would have preferred never to have seen them at all. But I know it’s important to Riley. For some reason, I don’t want to argue with her. I want this to go as smoothly as possible, for the sake of us all.

But it’s not only that. There is a tenderness inside of me blossoming out of a desire to protect her, to keep her safe. I don’t know if it’s more than just the baby, but I don’t see her as before. And the sensation is confusing in so many ways.

After a night of restless sleep, I wake up to the sun's rays streaming through the window. I grab my phone from the nightstand to check the time, and I call out for Riley. She enters the room, two mugs of coffee in hand, and sets one down for me.

"Why is my alarm off?" I ask, glaring at her.

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