Imperfect Match (Elixir Bachelor Billionaires #1)

Until now, every time I thought of my baby, I imagined a five-year-old boy having the time of his life with his mom. She comes to his school events, playdates, and soccer matches. But what if it’s a girl—missing her dad?

Fuck no.

“Who said anything about a girl? It takes at least twelve weeks to find out the gender of the baby?”

“So what are you, the new pregnancy expert in town?” My sister raises an eyebrow.

At least I hope to be expert enough for my baby.

When I just stare at her, Chloe shrugs. “I have a feeling it’s a girl.”

Before I can stay with that warm feeling gripping my chest a second longer, my sister turns to the housekeeper.

“Mrs. K, how was it when you were pregnant? Did you guess if it’d be a boy or a girl, and were you right?” Unlike when she’s talking to me, Chloe’s beaming at my housekeeper. “I ask Daisy every day. But all she says is, ‘I just want a healthy baby.’ What kind of boring answer is that?”

Mrs. Kowalski laughs, her hands pausing over the rolling pin before she resumes flattening the dough.

“Some women say they do have a feeling. In my case, my husband and I made a bet. I wanted a girl, but he was sure it’d be a boy. And he was right both times.”

“That’s so cool! I can’t wait to go betting war with Willow, Elodie, and Violet.”

Chloe keeps talking about my baby, and for the first time, my heart isn’t gripped with fear.

There’s something like pink hope filling my insides with a promise of a never-ending adventure.

39

OH, MY TINY BLIP

CHARLES

“Mr. Hawthorne.”

Before I can step into the elevator, Dave calls my name in a low voice, and I turn around.

“I went to drop off apple pancakes at Miss Willow’s apartment, sir. Since Mrs. Hawthorne is unable to keep anything down, including the famous pierogi, Mrs. K is trying some new recipes.” His forehead creases as if my baby’s unacceptance of food is a personal offense toward him.

Looks like not just my family but even my staff has tagged along in Daisy’s pregnancy journey.

Am I the only one uninformed of her these days?

I’m about to tell Dave to stick to his job description and nothing more, when he places a white envelope forward.

“Daisy gave it to me this morning, and Mrs. K and I both believe it was meant for you.”

I continue to stare at him, making no attempt to pick up the envelope, because I fear what it might contain. I’ve yet to send her the divorce papers.

Has she taken matters into her own hands?

“It’s the picture of her ultrasound,” Dave whispers, and I snatch the white paper from his hand and tuck it safely into the inside pocket of my jacket, close to my heart.

My legs feel heavy throughout the entire elevator ride from the parking lot to my office. My one hand is holding my laptop case, but the other is pressed close to my chest, where I can still feel the envelope.

My temporary assistant rises from his seat to greet me.

“Cancel my next meeting. I’m busy for the next hour.”

I don’t wait for his nod or any verbal confirmation before heading straight to my office. Sliding the laptop bag onto the desk, I perch on my chair.