Page 44 of The Billionaire's Most Unexpected Triplets

I grunt. “I’m not sure I’m going.”

He turns and stares at me, slack-jawed. “You sick or something?”

I scowl at him from behind my desk. “I have other things going on.”

His eyebrows knit together in suspicion. “This is their last home game.”

I sigh. Yes, I know this.

I also know that I have prime courtside seats. That Owen and I never miss an important Olympus City Jaguars game.

But this week is different. I’m different.

“What do you have going on?” He collects the darts that didn’t make it onto the board.

I refrain from the urge to snap at him. He hasn’t done anything wrong and doesn’t deserve to be the recipient of my bad mood.

But then who can I snap at? Leah has stayed out of my way the last couple of days — no surprise there.

It seems, too, that she’s taking my threat in the parking lot seriously. If she were telling people at work that I knocked her up, I would have heard about it by now.

It seems she’s doing one thing right, at least.

“I’m staying home for the night.” Leaning back in my chair, I stretch my arms above my head.

Owen is looking at me like I’ve dropped the biggest bombshell of the century. “Since when do you stay in on Friday nights?”

Since I became fucking tired of the world and the people in it.Owen and most others haven’t done anything wrong, but I’m drained from this shit with Leah and I need a break.

“Let me know if you change your mind.” He stands. “It’s opening night at that new club on Reed.”

He slips out of my office before I answer, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Damn Leah. We’re in this situation all because she refuses to understand how business works. Instead of accepting that I won and GourmetGlobal is now mine, she had to punch below the belt.

It’s unfortunate. The woman is smart, hot, and ambitious. She could go much further in this industry than she already has, but if she keeps trying to pull tricks like this one, she’ll get nowhere.

My phone rings, and I glance at the caller ID. It’s the clinic where we did the paternity test. They must be calling about the results.

Seeing the name on the screen makes me smile. Finally, this whole shit show will come to an end. Leah will have to go crawling back to whoever her real baby daddy is.

If she’s even pregnant. For all I know, she lied about that just to get under my skin.

“Jack Leadsom,” I answer.

“Mr. Leadsom, this is Christina Cobb from Dawson Fertility. I’m calling about your paternity test results.”

My heart jumps into my throat. “Yes. Please hold just a minute.”

I put her on hold and place a direct call to Leah’s desk. This should be rich.

Her phone rings a few times, though I know she’s in there. I passed by her door less than an hour ago. She’s probably afraid to answer my call and putting it off as long as she can.

“Yes?” she finally answers.

“I need you in my office ASAP. Drop whatever you’re doing.” I hang up, not waiting for a response.

She shows up a minute later, looking stoic and sexy as hell. Even though I’m pissed at her, I can’t ignore the pouty pink on her lips or the way her hair falls in waves down her shoulders.

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