Page 69 of Baby For My Bossy Fake Fiancé

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged my lips.

After years of… hardship, it seemed like life was finally giving me a second chance.

…And just maybe I needed to seize this opportunity.

Tugging the telephone closer, I dialled her office. She picked up almost immediately.

Usually, this wouldn’t have counted for anything other than she was simply being professional. But I knew it wasn’t that. I knew she was trying to get rid of me as soon as possible.

“Sir.” again, as expected, her response was curt.

Why did I call her again?

Yes, nothing.

“The case… the one for the divorce. I need to review it.”

“On my way.”

The call ended before I had the chance to say any other thing. Not like there was any other thing to say.

Readjusting myself in my seat, I quickly turned on my system. I opened my Gmail to see all notifications cleared. Which means I had attended to every important mail.

Still, my hands wouldn’t stop scrolling aimlessly on the interface. I didn’t know what I was doing. Or why I was doing this.

The door opened and I resisted the urge to glance at her form. Well, for two reasons.

One, I wanted to seem busy. Two, I could already imagine the blank expression she wore.

I didn’t want to see that. I wanted to see something else. Anything.

“Here, sir.” When she slapped the files gently on the table, she took a few steps back.

Finally bringing my eyes to the file, I stretched my hands to bring them closer. I opened and skimmed through.

This— all this was unnecessary. It had been since the day I asked John to give her a ProBono.

She could easily mail the documents and send them to me. But I’d always requested the hard copy. Just because.

As usual, everything looked good. Now, I was done with assessing.

Shutting the file along with the documents in it, I turned to her.

“You can have a seat.”

Her blank gaze met mine. “I don’t think I should, sir. I have other im-”

“Don’t, Renee.”

I heaved a sigh. I could see her do the same. Though almost unnoticeable.

Tentatively she took a seat.

After refreshing my mail, and a couple of meaningless keystrokes, I glanced at her.

“How is the girl’s case going?”

I settled for my go-to question. The one I knew she had no choice but to answer. And that also appealed to her sense of judgment, hopefully.

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