Chapter 2
Renee
Why? Why did I take the money? Oh, that’s right. Because I needed to eat. My job doesn’t pay enough for food and rent when I have useless roommates.
Damn, life plays some serious jokes on you. I had no idea that this was going to be harder than expected. This guy wasn’t just anyone; he owned the place and was having me set out on my ass with this baby without even taking a glance at the kiddo.
Damn it to hell. What am I supposed to do? It’s not like that woman gave me a legitimate number when she left me with the little guy. The salon was closed for renovations for the week, so I’m completely out of luck getting her real information. I feel like the biggest fool on the earth, but I needed to survive, and my jackass roommates found it hard to not use their portion on drugs.
“Look, you don’t understand. He’s totally his son,” I exclaimed.
“He’s adorable, Miss, but Mr. Hart has told me that the baby’s not his and has demanded you be escorted out. We don’t want to call the police, so let’s do this safely. You don’t want to hurt the baby.” The pretty assistant is trying to be gentle, but I can’t just take him back with me. I don’t have the resources or the time for a baby.
Now I’m being held back and practically forced on the street with a one-year-old that’s not mine. I’m trying to make my case, but the boss has ordered me to be removed. He didn’t have the nerve to come out and do it himself.
He sent his goons after me. No wonder the woman paid me that much. She was probably treated way worse. “He doesn’t have the balls to do it himself.”
“He’s a busy man,” she insists.
Suddenly, the door opens, and the most handsome man catches my attention. I gasp, staring at him in amazement which the secretary notices, and raises her brow.
Oh holy hell, this can’t be him. He looks rugged, but young. I’m not sure if he’s the guy I’m supposed to be contacting or not, but he’s gorgeous. At six three or so with broad shoulders, and sexy dark hair that looks in need of a cut, and dark facial scruff. His strong jaw tightens as he stares at me. Then, out of nowhere, he tells them, “Let her go.”
They immediately back away as if their lives depend on it. “I’m leaving. Close up my office,” he barks out at the woman standing there with her mouth gaping open, who just told me he was busy. I’m still gawking at him as everyone seemed to have done a one-eighty.
He takes my hand and presses the button for the elevator. I feel this intense shock reverberate through me, but I regain control of my expression. Our eyes connect, sending a shiver of excitement through my body as if he caressed me. Then he drops his head to the baby boy in my arms, and then lifts his gaze to me again. I feel his eyes appraising me in more ways than one. His intent is unclear, and I’m not sure how to read him. It’s not like I have a lot of experience with men to gauge their reactions.
I’m nineteen with a few years of work under my belt at a hair salon, washing and styling hair. It’s how I met the baby’s mother because she would come and talk to me. She asked me about my life, and I explained that I’d been taking things one day at a time after my parents were arrested on criminal drug charges in our home. Hell, I’m lucky I didn’t get caught up in that scene or the raid because they would have blamed me and I’m not good with confrontation and clam up.
Goodness, I feel like an idiot because she played me like the na?ve fool I am. Now, I’m in the middle of an elevator with a handsome man shooting daggers at me with his gorgeous eyes.
“Um…” I started to speak, but he quickly cut me off.
“Don’t say a thing. I’m not in the mood to even speak to you.” I whip my head back like he struck me or something. I’m totally pissed off, but I bite my tongue because even though the kid is a cutie, I can’t keep him. I can’t afford a baby and can’t handle him. I ignore the handsome Mr. Hart until he orders me into the back of his SUV, which is parked right outside of the bank of elevators in the underground garage.
“I’m not going in there,” I tell him in no uncertain terms. Doesn’t he know anything about kids? Besides, I don’t trust him. He might be fine as hell, but he’s angry and I’m the one he’s directing his anger at.
He cocks his brow at me, stopping in front of the passenger door. “The hell you aren’t. You’ve made a scene in my office, bringing your baby to my business. If this gets out, there will be hell to pay, and you’ll be in debt through your ears. Spending a lifetime paying it back.” I want to kick him in the shins.
“You’re something else. I don’t need your shit. Excuse me. I’ll take him elsewhere,” I inform the jackass, holding the baby to my chest. Max is staring at his dad like he knows the truth. I wonder if he’s married and doesn’t want to get caught up in a scandal.
“The hell you’re not. You have a lot to answer for, and I’m going to get them.”
“I’m not taking him in a car without a car seat,” I argue, holding him tighter to me. He should know that kids don’t go in the car without one, or maybe he just doesn’t care.
He grumbles and then huffs, “Fine. Where is your car seat?”
“It’s in my car,” I remark with more than enough sarcasm, rolling my eyes for emphasis. I can’t understand the tension pushing me to be this rude. I instantly regret coming here for so many reasons.
“Where the fuck is that?” He’s not handling this any better than I am. I suppose it’s fair that he should be a little pissed. A woman kept this a huge secret from him. Still, I couldn’t be that cold. Possibly she was a drunken one-night stand that he’d been so hard for that he forgot protection. My mind immediately goes to an image of them together, and it isn’t something I want to picture.
“Fuh.” We both glance down at the smiling baby. The little one ducks his head into my chest, hiding from the audience.
“Way to go,” I angrily whisper. He’s turning out to be a great father already.
“Shut it. I’m not this ticked off normally. You can push a man to the brink of insanity, beautiful. You’re lucky you’re fine as hell because your character is seriously lacking.” My character is lacking? Why did she keep the baby from him? What’s his character lacking?
I stepped away from him and hurried to my car. Before he can react, I’m in the driver’s seat and locked the doors. He’s on his phone instantly, and that worries me. He ends the call and tucks the phone into his inner pocket on his suit jacket. He knocks on the window, politely.
“Open up, woman,” he orders me. I shake my head, then turn around, stretched over to the backseat, and strap Max into his seat. He’s such a cute little boy. A pang of jealousy hits me in the chest when I think about the handsome, grumpy man having a son. There’s a very stark resemblance between them that’s pretty undeniable.
Still, I ignore that strange, unexpected jealousy and move on. Once he’s right in his seat, I turn back and turn the key. My car is so old it doesn’t have a push start button. I hear the engine not turning over. I do it again with the same result. What the heck? This can’t be happening right now.
“Open the fucking door. I’m not going to tell your ass again.”
I tilt my head toward the bastard smirking outside the window. He thinks it’s funny, does he? I press my head to the steering wheel, then move swiftly to throw open my car door, hitting him in the gut.
“Oops,” I say with feigned concern, barely containing a smile.
He grabs my hand and pulls me from the car, closing the door and pinning me between his broad chest and the cool steel of the door. Goodness, he’s too close. My brain is shutting down.
He’s so close I can see the richness of the gray in his eyes. “You are pushing me and trust me, there are only two ways this will end up. I’ll have your sexy ass arrested or tied to my bed fucking your brains out until you come to your senses.”
“Um…” I can’t figure out how to respond. Well, verbally, at least. My body has betrayed me and is most definitely responding to his virile manliness.
“Don’t um me. What’s your name?”
It takes me a second longer than it should, but I finally get the brain to register. “Renee.” I can’t breathe with him so close. God, he smells fantastic.
“Don’t stare at me like that with those hungry eyes. Renee, I’m not going to be played by a gold digger.” He pushes away with the smugness of a total bastard. I suddenly caught a shadow out of the corner of my eye; it’s one of the overgrown security guys. He’s standing at the doorway of the garage with a metal object in his hand.
“What? Are you going to kill me?” I ask, tilting my head at the security guard.
“Kill you?” He throws his head back and starts laughing at me. What a prick. I glare at him as his eyes meet mine again. “It’s to jimmy the door unlocked.”
“Oh.”
“I would break the window, but I don’t want the kid getting hurt.”
“Whatever.” I don’t know what else to tell him. I’m in unknown territory and not prepared for this bullshit. Wow. Three thousand bucks wasn’t worth the stress or ramifications.
“Don’t whatever me. What are you like, sixteen?” Asshole.
“I’m nineteen.” He backs up and slides me away from the door, opening it and hitting the unlock button. He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he goes around and takes the little boy and his seat out. He walks straight toward a large black SUV.
“Are you coming?” he questions, as if he’s willing to leave me here. I trust him with his kid, so I made the decision to go with him. Or so that’s the excuse I’m going with.
I grab my purse and the diaper bag. I watch him struggle to put the car seat in, so I hiss. “Let me do it.” He gets out of my way as I adjust the car seat and Max.
“Get in,” he growls, growing impatient.
He doesn’t help me into the truck, even though it’s fucking massive. In fact, he does his best not to glance at me. I barely have my seatbelt stretched out before he begins driving toward the exit. I click it quickly, then straighten it as best I can. We don’t get out of the garage before the flash of multiple cameras comes out of nowhere. Oh my goodness, we’re being filmed.
“Did you call the press?” he snarls at me, gritting his teeth and staring straight ahead. His knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the wheel.
“No, I didn’t. I don’t want my face in the media,” I respond, ducking my head, pretending to dig through my purse. My image plastered all over wouldn’t be a good thing. My parents’ dealers might still be looking for payback. Although I doubt it, the fear has always been there.
“Why? You’re beautiful. Wouldn’t you want to get noticed? Isn’t that your goal of pulling this stunt?” he challenges me, but I’ve learned never to have arguments in the car with people driving. It was dangerous and you could get hurt. My parents and I had been in an accident because they’d been arguing and that led to a serious drug problem.
I refuse to answer him because he’s being a dick. This kid looks like him. Mr. Hart can deny it all he wants, but I have no doubt the kid is his. I’ve seen the way he looks at the boy. He sees it, too, but he’s in denial. I guess this fucks up his pretty, fancy-free life.