Page 24 of Baby For The Billionaire Silver Fox

Lexiwasgoingtoattend to some business with her bakery in New York for two days, so I rode along with her. I had some important business of my own to see to.

“Turn up the music. I need a distraction,” I said, fidgeting with my clothes, my hair, my phone, and anything else I could find to fiddle with.

Lexi glanced over at me. “You look like you could use a drink.” She slapped her forehead. “Oops, sorry. Bad choice of words.”

“No problem. I’m just tired of being on the road with someone else driving. You know how I like to be in control.”

“Hmm,” Lexi said. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

“You’re right. Who am I fooling? I’m nervous as hell. In fact, I’m so anxious right now I could barf. What do you think Derek will say? I’ve got the official pregnancy test results from the doctor to show him.”

“I’ve never met the guy. I know you don’t have a high opinion of him, but maybe there’s more substance to him than you know. Maybe he is daddy material.”

“Oh Lexi, you’re always ready to think the best of any situation, aren’t you? But I love you anyway,” I commented, turning to stare out the side window.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to consider other outcomes,” Lexi said, still trying to be helpful. “Hey, why don’t you put on your favorite playlist, and let’s sing loud and off-key. She gave me a side hug and a bolstering smile.

So many thoughts swirled through my head and made me crazy that by the time we got there, I was more than ready to get this meeting over with.

I’d texted Derek that I wanted to see him but hadn’t told him why. This was definitely not something you discussed through text or a phone call. I didn’t want to dump it on him suddenly, but I saw no other way. It wasn’t something you could hint at.

I walked the few blocks to the bar he suggested we meet at. It was raining now, and it paired well with my mood.

I spotted Derek’s brown-haired head at a high-top table and noticed he was already halfway through a drink. “Hey, babe,” he drawled, his eyes wandering over my body appreciatively. His look made me want to button up my jacket and cross my arms for good measure.

“Let me get you a drink. Should I make it a double so you can catch up with me?” He signaled the waiter as I sat down.

“Just water,” I said. “Derek, we need to talk.”

“Sure, babe. We can go back to my place from here and ‘talk’ all you want,” he said with a leer.

Ew. What had I even seen in him? Oh, that’s right, we met in a bar, and we were drinking. Heavily. The lyrics to a Jimmy Buffet song came to mind—Why Don’t We Get Drunk and Screw.Right now, I wanted to bang my head on the table.

“Derek, we need to talknow,“ I said, more firmly than I felt.

He finished his drink and started on another. “Okay. What’s up? You miss me so much you’re coming back here to live?” He gave me his best Prince Charming smile, complete with dimples.

“Derek, do you remember much about that night we had sex?”

“Yes. Okay vaguely. We’d been drinking. But it was good. We were on fire,” he added with a smirk.

“And do you recall the condom breaking?” I asked.

“Ahh, nope,” he answered.

I just stared at him.

His smirk wavered. The dimples faded. And then he went still.

“Whhhyyy?” he asked, dragging the word out as long as possible as if the noise would prolong the inevitable.

“Because I’m pregnant.”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head vehemently. “You’re not going to pin this on me. It was probably one of your other drunken one-nighters.”

That pissed me off, and I shot back, “As much as I don’t want to feed your already inflated ego, there has only been the one night withyouin the last four months. You do the math. And stop trying to slut-shame me, you prick.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re lying.”

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