Dirty Arrogant Boss by Terri E. Laine

Three

Molly

Hugh walked out,leaving me to my turbulent thoughts. His offer was entirely too tempting. If he only knew the real reasons behind my overdue bills, he’d probably rescind his offer and hightail it out of my life. I picked up the stack and flipped through them one by one, cringing. It wasn’t long before I was sobbing. It had been so wonderful to escape for a few hours and enjoy the pleasures of the hot Hugh for a night. Why had he had to ruin it?

Maybe I needed to change my thought process. Maybe he hadn’t ruined it at all. Maybe he’d presented an opportunity of a lifetime. But should I tell him the real reason behind my God-awful debt? What if I did and it sent him running like his boxers were on fire? He was obviously from an affluent family. If they ever found out about my father, they might disown him. Or the child would most likely be disinherited. Who wanted a prison inmate as a blood relation?

Oh, good Lord, what should I do? Daddy hadn’t committed the crime he’d been accused of. I knew he hadn’t. He’d been framed, which was why I was spending all my money trying to get him out of there.

And then there was Mom. Her nursing home bills were astronomical. I’d sold her house and until all the money from that ran out, I couldn’t get her on government assistance. Life was so unfair. Why had that horrible accident happened? She’d been so smart and vivacious. And then she’d had that seizure while she’d been driving, which had caused her to hit that stupid tree. Now her brain damage was so severe, the doctors said she would never recover. And she was only forty-eight years old. Every time I went to visit her, I broke down and cried. It was like visiting an adult baby.

Between Daddy’s legal fees and Mom’s medical bills, I wasn’t left with much to live on. If what Hugh offered was legit, it could be a way for me to get ahead in life. But who was I kidding? It would saddle me with a baby. And babies grew up to be kids. I would be tied down for life. Was I really ready for that kind of commitment?

Then the thought of snuggling a tiny bundle of joy nailed me in the heart and my maternal instincts flared to life. I’d never thought about it before, because frankly, I hadn’t had the time. Only now, with this idea planted in my brain, it began to take root. I could totally see myself pushing around a baby in a stroller, taking her to see her grandmother. Maybe it would bring a spark of light to my mom’s lifeless eyes again.

For the next two days, all I could think of was Hugh and his offer, though I hadn’t glanced at the card he left me, hoping to avoid the temptation to call him. I even imagined I heard a baby crying during one of those nights. I woke up and ran into my living room, checking to see where the sound came from. When I climbed back into my empty bed, the loneliness hit. And not just because Hugh wasn’t there. It was because there wasn’t a baby in the house. I was totally losing it. What the hell was wrong with me? I needed to see a shrink. The last thing I needed was a baby. I could barely take care of myself, along with everyone else on my plate.

When Chloe called, I kept all my feelings bottled up and brought up false cheer. “Hey, chickypoo, what’s going on? I got your text, but then I didn’t hear back. Tell me about this man you met.”

She groaned and I knew it wasn’t good news. “Ryan Witmore is a complete asshole, just like my jerkface boss, Hugh Hampton, the king of dickwads. Anyway, did you meet anyone?”

This was where I should have come clean. Instead, I said, “Uh, er—no one important. Tell me what happened.”

She told a tale that left me blinking. Chloe had had a one-nighter. No, actually, it was a one-weekender. He’d offered her a job after promising she could quit. There had to be more to the story, but I didn’t ask. I felt bad for keeping my secrets from her.

“And I’m currently drowning my anger in a large glass of vino,” she finished.

“Hmm. Looks like you’ve been on one wild rollercoaster ride.”

“You know it,” she said.

Though I didn’t want to tell her my tale, she was my best friend, and I would be there for her. “Want some sorrow-drowning company?”

“Molly, normally I would say yeah, but not tonight. I just want to hang and feel sorry for my own stupid butt for believing such bull. You know what I’m saying?”

I felt bad for being happy she didn’t want company. “I do. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. Oh, you never said if you liked the job though.”

“It has potential. It’s not true copy-editing, but it pays a hell of a lot better.”

“Well, at least you have that.”

“Truth.”

The next day at work, my mind was all over the place. The offer was so outlandish, I hadn’t even called Chloe to tell her. She didn’t know how deep in debt I was. She would never understand why I was even considering his offer.

“Hey, Molly. Did you know you missed the meeting this morning?” Joe asked.

Shit!“Yeah, I, uh, was under the weather and didn’t even think I was going to make it in. But I’m feeling much better.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“What did I miss?” I asked.

“We went over some things on the Martin case. I can bring you up to speed later,” Joe offered.

“Okay, thanks.”

He leaned against my desk and asked, “Hey, that was some party the other night, huh?”

“Uh, I’ll say. That house was unreal.”

“Told you. I’ll let you know when Dillon has another one. Did you…?” He circled his finger in the air.

“Did I what?”

“You know. Hook up with anyone there?”

“None of your business. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me it was a sex party,” I said, maybe a little too loud. I looked around to see if I’d been overheard.

He laughed. “Oh, that. Tiny detail.”

“That was not a tiny detail, Joe.”

“So? Where’d you go? I lost track of you.”

“I sort of met someone.”

“Ah. I see.” He straightened up and walked away, chuckling some more.

He didn’t see it at all. If he only knew.

The rest of the day my head was still in the baby cloud. Around five, my phone dinged with a text. When I looked at it, I almost dropped the thing like it was a thousand degrees. It was from Hugh.

Any chance you’re free around 7? I’d like an opportunity to persuade you to accept my offer if you’re willing.

Holy shit!

I must’ve been sex-drunk because I didn’t even remember giving the man my phone number. What the heck was I going to tell him? One thing was for sure. I had to give him the down-low on my parents. The worst thing that could happen was he would find out about them after I got knocked up and then where would that leave me? In a complete disaster, that was where. I would be up to my eyeballs in debt with a baby on the way. There was no way I could ever do that to a kid.

I shot him a text back.

I’m free around 7 and I’ll be home. See you then.

* * *

At six-thirty,I started pacing. By six forty-five, I had to restrain myself from jogging around my tiny apartment. By the time the knock came on my door, my heart was jumping out of my chest.

I opened the door and grabbed his arm, practically yanking him inside. “Sit down.”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. But you need to sit down.” I clasped my hands together just so I wouldn’t rub them up and down my legs. They were dripping with sweat.

“You don’t look okay. Maybe you need a drink.”

“Uh, yeah. A drink.” I went into the kitchen and poured us both large glasses of Jack. My hand trembled as I handed him his.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Jack.” I took a huge gulp of mine and then coughed as I choked on the burn. I ran my hand across my mouth afterward. It was obvious whiskey wasn’t my beverage of choice.

“I was thinking more about water. You should take it easy on this stuff.”

“Yeah, sure. So lay it on me,” I said.

“Excuse me?”

“You know. Your offer.”

He squinted at me for a moment. Then took another sip of his drink. He was much smarter with the beverage than me. “As I mentioned, I am in need of an heir and…” He stopped and scratched his temple. “You know, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

“Why not?” I took another slug of my drink and sputtered.

“Do you have a drinking problem?” he asked.

“Who, me? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Look at that glass of yours. It’s almost empty. And you’re sweating. Are you going through withdrawals?”

I fish-mouthed, and then bent over at the waist in laughter. When I was finally able to get a lungful of air, I said, “I hate this stuff. That’s why I’m coughing with every swallow.”

“Why are you guzzling it then?”

“Because I’m nervous!” I shouted.

“Why?”

“Jesus. We’re talking about me being a sperm receptacle, that’s why! And add to that, a baby comes along with it, which happens to be quite a long commitment. Have you even given any thought to that?” Men are such idiots.

I hadn’t meant to say the last part aloud, but I guess I did, because his response told me so.

“Yes, I have given a great deal of thought to that, and for your information, not all men are idiots. I have a very decent plan outlined here, if you will only stop gulping the damn liquor long enough for me to explain it to you.”

“I can do that, but how will we go about getting pregnant? Will it be the natural way?”

He didn’t give me any time to ponder my questions because he stood up in front of me and, before I could say another word, his mouth crashed down on mine and stole the remainder of my thoughts away.