Page 27 of Next Door Billionaire's Surprise Baby

I swing in the chair from side to side as I ask, “Is that any way to say hi to your boss?”

“Who cares?” she scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

Her face is bright despite her scowl. Her blond hair is pulled into a slick ponytail, and her face is more defined. With her clear, creamy skin and her stylish office attire, she looks more like a high fashion model than a software developer.

My eyes zone in on her lips, and my eyebrows lift at what I see there.

“Are you pouting?” I ask and cough into my elbow to mask the laugh bubbling in my throat.

Her juicy lips that were jutting out a second ago become pinched as she snaps, “I don’t pout. Now leave. I have work to do.

I think about teasing her further, but I decide to drop it and stand up. But instead of leaving, I walk around the desk to where she is and lean over her. I’m suddenly aware of how small she is compared to me.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

She makes an exaggerated expression of shock, “Oh really? For what?”

Oh shit, I need to find the right words, but they are not coming out.

“Chloe…”

She doesn’t let up, “You’re sorry about what?”

Now that I’m forced to acknowledge what I did, I realize that I was a total jerk. I falsely accused her of the app issue and left her hanging and unsatisfied when she refused to agree with me. There are lots of other ways I could have passed my point across.

Chloe’s eyes are still narrowed, but I catch a glimpse of something changing.

I let it all out in a breath, “I’m sorry for teasing you and punishing you in the way I did. I let my emotions get the better of me.”

She shakes her head in disappointment, “Blaming it on your emotions doesn’t make it any better.”

I can’t help it. I groan aloud, “What else do you want me to say?”

She shrugs and starts to turn away, so I blurt out, “How about I make it up to you? Let’s go have dinner after work today.”

She stops moving and turns around slowly to face me. Her eyes are unreadable.

“Dinner after work?”

I thrust my hands into my pockets and shrug, “Or a date…whatever you want to call it.”

She walks closer to me and accentuates loudly and clearly, "You want me to go on a date. “ Her sentence sounds ambiguous; neither a definitive statement nor a question.

Now, I don’t want to sound like I’m pushing too hard–she has pretty much made it clear that she doesn’t want to have anything happen between us. But at the same time, we both know a part of her feels something for me. She wouldn’t have allowed me to make love to her otherwise. The best I can do is to give us a chance to get to know each other more and hope for the best.

I don't speak; I just wait for her to make her decision.

“I’ll think about it, “ she replies.

I can’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach, but I’m consoled by the fact that she is thinking about it instead of immediately rejecting my offer.

With that consolation, I nod, “All right. I’ll come back later.”

As I walk back to my office, I try to ignore the doubt, crowding my thoughts about the possibility of her refusal. I have to make things right between us, and I hope she’ll let me.

I find myself heading back to her office with my laptop bag at the end of the day. I’m about to knock and enter her office when the door opens from inside. Chloe is packed up and ready to leave.

Anticipation has my stomach worked into knots as I question pensively, “So…what’s the answer going to be?”

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