Page 4 of Billionaire's Fake Wife: A Single Mom BWWM Romance

Sonya

Another day on the job has passed by. It's the same old routine- running around to do what my boss wants me to do.

My feet are sore. It's painful to walk in my shoes, more so in heels. I plop down on the couch, in the reception area, and people can't help but look at me. I guess it's not fitting of me, who is working in the fashion industry to look so tired and bedraggled.

Bedraggled because something splashed on my skirt when I was running an hour ago to get another batch of coffee for the team. Tired, because I was on my feet almost the whole day!

I didn't even have the time to change my clothes. My goodness, I can even feel the skirt stick to my skin, and I hate it. I'm overworked and moody, to say the least. Sometimes I feel like I'm literally working for the devil herself.

I'm done with my work, though. I want to take a little breather before going home.

At home, another job's waiting for me. That is, being a mother to my five-year-old daughter, Lauralee. There will be no monetary compensation, but only the smile, kisses, and hugs of my little darling.

I smile as I think of her. All my tiredness slowly seeps away because I know that I'll be seeing her as soon as I got home. My little Lauralee will jump in my arms as soon as I open the door, and she'll kiss me.

Being a mother to my daughter is the fulfillment of my life, though. I stretch my limbs and stand up, getting ready to leave. Fortunately, I don't need to do overtime work today, and I can go home a bit earlier.

I can cook Lauralee's favorite food. I feel a bit guilty that she always has to stay with the nanny in the mornings and in the evenings. I always arrived late and tired to take care of her needs.

But someone waves at me from the elevator. It's one of the staff, and she's running towards me. Oh, God, it was too early of me to celebrate….

"Thank God, you haven't left yet! You should have checked your phone, I called so many times!" Martha says as she pants. She looks like she's ready to drag me back to the office.

I grimace inside, what am I supposed to do now? I hope it's not more running around. My feet hurt, and I think I hit one of my nails earlier. I was running for the elevator, and I stab my toe on something. I didn't even notice until I sat on the couch.

"Is there something else?" I ask her, looking composed. Her eyes survey me, and she grimaces when she catches the stain on my skirt.

"God, you shouldn't look like this!" Martha exclaims. "Anyway, go back to your office. Some designs need retouching, and the CEO wants the done designs first thing tomorrow. She told us to have you do it because the design team is overloaded with work."

What's new?!

I really want to retort, say something that this inhumane. I'm overworked… Mrs. Fields even calls me in the middle of the night to have her dress ironed.

If I say that I can't reach the place because of the traffic, she'll tell me to walk.

If I say that it's not done yet by the other departments, she'll tell me to finish it.

If she wants me to buy something, and it's not available in the malls… she'll tell me to scour the whole city.

She's a slave driver, it's inhumane! I have my rights, too! But sad to say, I don't dare to say such words because… I know, from the get-go, about what I'm getting on.

I'm riding the bullet train to hell. I grimace inside.

"Okay, I'm going back," I tell her. It looks like I have to postpone my bonding time with my daughter again.

Maybe I should consider getting off the management track and design on my own? I sigh, I really am not sure about what I'm supposed to do.

Let's leave the thinking for later, and let's do what I signed up for.

Oh, God. I'm beat, so fucking tired that I can barely move my hands. They feel heavy and trembling a bit. I have to retouch the designs for four straight hours.

My eyes are blurry and heavy as well. I just want to plop on the bed and sleep for three straight days.

But, no, can't do. Life doesn't wait for anyone, especially mine.

Now, it's past nine. I wonder if Lauralee's awake? Sometimes, I come home late, and she's still up to wait for me. But I always instruct the nanny to make sure that Lauralee sleeps early, but the latter's so stubborn.

I wonder where she got it? I smile, thinking that my daughter got it from me. Who else?

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