Flirting With My Billionaire Boss
Flirting With My Billionaire Boss
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Main Tropes
- Secret Baby
- Office Romance
- Billionaire
Synopsis
Synopsis
When I escape to the charming town of Blue Mountain to hide, I’m immediately hired as a personal assistant by the oldest son of the billionaire family in town.
My new boss, Weston Keith, is irresistible and completely off-limits. I can keep things professional between us, I swear.
When his housekeeper twists her ankle after tripping over the dog, I take over her responsibilities. Only, I have no idea how to cook and clean. Let’s just say the situation gets real interesting, real fast.
On top of that, I have a teensy-weensy secret he knows nothing about. I’m pregnant and hiding from my ex husband. That wouldn’t matter so much if sparks weren’t flying between us.
When Weston finds out the truth, will it destroy everything?
Flirting with my Billionaire Boss is a hilarious closed-door romcom with a naughty dog, a dash of mystery, office romance, burnt fish sticks, helicopter rides, a yacht, and one big billionaire family.
Intro into Chapter 1
Intro into Chapter 1
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say under my
breath. I can’t stop staring at the stick I just peed on.
Positive.
My life is over. How am I supposed to explain
this to Markus? My mind is reeling, and I need to stop freaking out so I can think.
But my heart is pounding in my ears, and the
bathroom stall is getting a little spinny. I brace against the sides to steady
myself, and the test falls into the open toilet.
I stare at it with my mouth hanging open and
cringe as I pull it out. The Atlanta airport bathroom doesn’t seem like the
cleanest place in the world. I shake off the toilet water and wipe it down with
toilet paper. I don’t think I can ever get my hands fully clean again. I toss
the paper in and flush the toilet before opening the stall.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Okay. I can do this. Think, Callie. Just think.
The only solution is to run. You think I’m
kidding. I’m not. This is no joking matter!
Markus doesn’t want kids. He’s told me that a
million times. I’ve been carrying this stupid test around with me for the past
week, and I decide that the best place to pee on it is here?
I guess I can just hide it from him. But he’ll
figure something is wrong, and then he’ll find a way to get the truth out of
me. He always does.
Why can’t I slow down my heart? It keeps
pounding. I need to take some deep breaths. I’ve had a feeling that I could be
pregnant. It would explain why I was feeling queasy on the plane. I don’t
usually get airsick. We’re flying back from another trip to Hawaii, and this is
our layover.
If Markus finds out I’m pregnant, he’ll want me
to get an abortion. But I don’t want that. I stare down at the double lines on
the test. I want to give this baby a life.
There’s no arguing with him. He thinks he’s
always right. There would be nothing I could do or say to get him to change his
mind about this baby. I’ve been married to the guy for three years. And we
dated for five years before that. So I would know. He’s said from the beginning
that he doesn’t want kids.
So, my only choice is to run. Because I’m having
this baby, whether he likes it or not. That’s when I start to cry like a big,
giant wuss.
I leave the stall, toss the pregnancy test into
the trash, and go to wash my hands. I’m sure I look like a disaster because a
janitor comes in and gives me a strange look before she starts to empty the
trash. She’s short and round with dark skin with long blonde hair. She takes
one look at my test and looks at me with her eyes bugging out.
“Is this test yours?”
“Yes.”
“You’re crying. Are you in trouble?”
I nod miserably. Then I spill the long, ugly
truth to her. “And that’s why I have to get out of here,” I say. “But I don’t
know how I’m going to do that without me seeing him.”
She starts to untie her smock. “Wear this. And
hold the mop in front of your face.” She hands me the smock. “Push my cart. He
won’t think to look at a janitor. One more thing.” She takes off her wig and
hands it to me. “Put this on.”
“Okay.” I twist my dark hair up and put on the
wig. Then I tie the smock around me. It’s huge and doesn’t smell great, but I
don’t mind. I’m just happy to have someone willing to help me.
“What about my carry-on luggage?”
“You can hide it on my cart. Just take my cart
to the bathrooms at gate B22 and leave the smock there. I’ll come along behind
you and get it.”
“Why are you helping me?” I ask.
“Because I’ve been in your shoes before. I have
a few babies of my own.”
I peek around the corner, and Markus isn’t in
his seat anymore. Where did he go? I don’t have time to look for him. I squeeze
the dirty water from the mop and hold it so it obscures my face. It drips a
little onto my shoulder. Here goes nothing. I push the janitor's cart through
the Atlanta airport with my suitcase hidden next to the trashcan. The real
janitor trails behind me, and I head toward the other bathroom.
A familiar voice makes me stop in my tracks.
It’s Markus. He’s right ahead of me, talking on the phone.
“She’s in the bathroom. She can’t hear what I’m
saying. I love you, too, darling. I’ll see you when I get back home and I’ve
dropped Callie off at the house.”
The janitor looks at me with a questioning
expression. She’s probably wondering why I’ve stopped. I can’t believe Markus
has been cheating on me. That scum! But it doesn’t matter now because I’m
leaving and I’m not looking back, even though I want to give him a piece of my
mind.
I walk away from my dirtbag of a husband and
head to the bathrooms where I meet up with the janitor.
“I heard my ex back there on the phone,” I tell
her once we’re inside the bathroom. “He was talking to another woman. He called
her darling and said he wanted to meet up with her after he drops me off at the
house.”
“Cheating sack of garbage,” the janitor says.
“It’s a good thing you’re running. You’re better off without him.”
“I know you’re right, but it still hurts to
think he’s been cheating on me. What’s wrong with me? Am I not enough for him?”
“It’s not you. It’s him. He’s a loser, and you
shouldn’t waste a single tear on him.”
It never feels great to be lied to and cheated on.
That’s why I need to get out of here and start a new life. Somewhere where
Markus won’t find me.
I take off the smock and wig and hand it to my
new friend. “Thank you for your help.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry you’re not having a
better day. You deserve better. No one should have to put up with what you’ve
been going through.”
I give her a hug. She smells like cleaner and
something else I’d rather not imagine. But I don’t care because she took the
time to help a stranger.
“You take care,” she calls out to me.
“Thank you.” I turn to leave the bathroom and weave through
the crowd, dragging my suitcase behind me. Walking until I get to the escalator
that takes me down to the train that connects the gates, I pause and look over
my shoulder. People push past me in a hurry to make their connecting flights or
collect their baggage.
Can I leave without knowing where to go? Credit
cards are traceable, so those are out of the question. I only have five hundred
dollars on me, the last of the money Markus gave me for my spending cash in
Hawaii. That should be enough to get me transportation and a place to stay
until I can figure out what I’m going to do next, but more would always be
better and can get me further. I ask directions to the nearest ATM and take out
as much as it will let me.
After taking the escalator down to the lowest
level, I ride the train all the way to the part of the airport that has the
baggage claim and the ground transportation. Just before I head outside, my
phone rings. It’s Markus. I ignore it and step through the doors that lead
outside.
I’m done with wealthy, entitled men. All Markus
cares about is his money and how he can either earn more or spend more. Family
and friends mean very little to him. I don’t want this baby to be raised to be
anything like him. I’m sick of Markus’s money and him trying to use it to
threaten and manipulate me.
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