Page 72 of Bossed By Three Billionaire Brothers

“Hey.” The word came out of my mouth meekly as I approached. “Appointment for Gen West?”

She nodded, turning her attention to the computer on her desk.

“Got you right here.” She handed me a clipboard with some paperwork on it. “If you could fill this out while you wait, please. And the bill’s already been taken care of, so we don’t need to discuss any of that.”

“Thank you.”

I was so grateful for my parents’ help and made a mental note as I sat down to at least send them a card or something. The forms were basic health history questions and didn’t take much time at all to fill out. I handed them back to the receptionist, my phone chiming as I sat back down. I slipped it out of my pocket, expecting to see a text from Mom or Dad.

Instead, there was a message from my PayPal app letting me know I had some money. I opened the app and loaded my account, my eyes going wide when I realized that not only did I havesomemoney, but I had a lot of it. The sender spot showed that the money was from the Bradshaws.

I glanced away, trying to do the mental math. As I considered the possibility that it might’ve been a mistake, I glanced down at the note that’d come along with the money.

Salary plus a little extra for your hard work. Thanks again.

I looked up, more than a little confused. The guys had paid me what I’d earned, which was nice, but expected. Why the bonus? Why on earth would they have given me extra money when I’d left without warning?

“Miss West?”

The receptionist calling my name pulled me back into the moment.

“Coming!”

After shoving my phone back into my pocket, I bounded out of my chair and toward the hall leading further back into the offices. A nurse met me, and over the course of the next ten minutes or so she took all my vitals. Once in the exam room, she started the process of asking me why I was there.

“I’ve been getting sick out of nowhere, unable to keep food down at all. And I’ll get dizzy now and then and…” I smiled, trying to put on a non-worried face. “It’s probably nothing, right? I justflew in from France yesterday after leaving a stressful situation. I’m guessing my body is just reacting to it all.”

The nurse smiled in a noncommittal sort of way. “Very well could be.” She tapped on her iPad a couple of times before looking back up at me. “But let’s see what we can find out before we jump to any conclusions, OK?”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

She asked some basic questions and it wasn’t long before she arrived at the little matter of my sex life.

“Are you sexually active?”

“I have been over the past few weeks, yes.”

“And did you and your partner use any kind of protection?”

“Well, I’m on the pill.”

She nodded, tapping in more information then telling me she’d be right back. She left the room briefly and returned with a small cup in her hands.

“What’s that?”

“I’ll need a urine sample for a pregnancy test.”

My eyes bugged out, and I blinked hard a few times.

“A… pregnancy test? Why?”

“Just to be on the safe side. Your symptoms sound like early pregnancy so we want to take that off the table if we can.”

I scoffed. “There’s no way I could be pregnant.” I stopped, thinking back hard over the last month or so and realizing that I’d gotten so wrapped up with Bobby and the guys and the fun of France that I very well might’ve been a little lax with taking my pills.

“Well the pill isn’t one-hundred percent,” the nurse said with a sympathetic smile.

“Right,” I grumbled. The nurse helped me off the exam table, then led me back into the hall and to a small, private bathroom. Once I was there alone, the door shut, I took a moment to process what was going on.

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