Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“The first intelligent thing you’ve said.” Jack scribbled on the ever-present legal pad in front of him. “You’ll need someone to care for the child when training starts.”
I flashed a proud smile, finally relaxed enough to drop down in the black leather chair directly across from Jack. “Already did that.”
“You did? She needs to be a professional, not some woman trying to become Mrs. Witter, Alex.”
“No shit. Give me a little bit of credit. I went to the service Dante used and I have a nanny. Her name is Sasha, and the best part? She has no fucking clue who I am.” I recounted her disbelief at the fact that there was a hockey team in Texas. “It was a small blow to my ego but the relief overrode it.”
“That’s good. I’ll have NDAs drawn up for the nanny and the woman who runs the business. In the meantime, you need to keep the child under wraps. Don’t take her out with you in public, and for the love of money, do not let anyone get a picture of you and the child together.”
“Dixie,” I grunted protectively. “Her name is Dixie. Not the child.” Why I suddenly felt so protective, I couldn’t say, but Jack’s attitude rubbed me the wrong way. “And she’s a baby, she needs fresh air and sunlight.”
Jack barked out a laugh, his expression was a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. “She’s a baby, Alex, not a fucking house plant. If she needs fresh air and sun, take her on the roof.” He rolled his eyes as if that was a reasonable solution.
“I’ll make sure Sasha takes her out alone so we’re not photographed together,” I promised him in the spirit of compromise. “I need a discreet and fast DNA test, and then I want someone to find where the mother is without contacting her.” I produced the birth certificate and handed it to Jack, watching as his eyes bounced over all the pertinent details.
“You don’t need to do the math, Alex. Her name is right here on the birth certificate.”
“Duh,” I acknowledged. “But unless you can read through permanent marker, we still don’t have an answer.” I shook my head. “There’s just one name visible and I don’t recall any woman named Julie. “It’s always Tatiana or Veronica, Selena or Veronika. Something exotic, not normal.”
Jack stared at me with his mouth wide open. “You sound like an asshole, you know that right?”
I shrugged. “I’m being honest. There hasn’t been a Julie or a Marie.”
My agent leaned forward, gaze narrowed on mine. “No Julia or Maria,” he asked with different accents.
“No.” I spent much of the ride to Jack’s downtown offices trying to piece together who I’d been with fifteen months ago. “That was a long time ago and there have been a lot of women since.” Not my best argument, but it was all I had. The truth.
“I’ll get an investigator on it, don’t worry. What I need you to worry about Alex, is keeping the existence of the child under wraps at least until we have the paternity results.” He noticed my reaction and held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “We need to be certain she’s yours before we figure out our next move, unless you don’t mind walking away from millions of dollars?”
“You know damn well I don’t.”
“Then listen to me for once in your life.”
“You haven’t steered me wrong yet. Except for that underwear ad.” I smiled and Jack barked out a laugh.
“That ad made you a household name and it’s why we’re both so wealthy today.”
Yeah, I couldn’t deny that, but it wasn’t exactly discreet, being on twenty foot tall billboards in nothing but my underwear. “All right, then. I need to get back to the penthouse.”
“Go,” he said and shooed me out of his office. “And keep your dick away from the nanny.”
I laughed off his words, but as the elevator took me down to the underground parking, I thought about the nanny. Sasha. She was a beautiful woman with her thick black hair that hung down her back in soft waves and big blue eyes that always appeared to be laughing. Don’t even get me started on those killer curves. She was more than a foot shorter than my six-foot-six-inch frame, and she wore those curves like a fucking badge of honor, not hiding behind loose fitting clothes like too many curvy women did.
She’s off-limits, I reminded myself as I entered the penthouse, noting immediately that it was too quiet. Dixie was a baby chatterbox, unless she was eating or sleeping, she cooed and babbled nonstop, but now there was nothing. With a frown, I went through the penthouse.
“Sasha? Dixie?” I couldn’t find them anywhere and panic settled in, where in the hell were they?
The door that led to the roof hung open just a few inches and I yanked it all the way open and took the stairs two at a time. A soft, melodic sound met my ears before I made it to the roof and I stopped at the top at the sight of Sasha with Dixie in her arms, head resting on her shoulders as she walked around the rooftop singing softly to her.