A BABY FOR HER BILLIONAIRE SUGAR DAD by Blaqueapple

Chapter 2



Chapter 2

LILY (AGE 23)

I wait nervously, head bent and stomach tightening with nerves, as my supervisor goes through my file for the umpteenth time this month.

I have not been able to clear up my school fees at the prestigious New York School of Journalism for the past two years. As it is, I am faced with possible chances of

withdrawal.

“Lily Carson.” She begins, “it says here that you’re the most outstanding student of your set and top of your class.”

“Yes, ma’m.” I respond quickly..

“But you’re still owing the school an outstanding sum of fifty thousand dollars in tuition. fees.” She closes the file with a thunk and proceeds to level me with a cold eyed stare through her glasses.

“How do you intend to pay because as it is, the school board has already sent a memo indicating that you either pay up or pack up.”

Dread fills me and I shut my eyes for a brief second, wishing all my problems could just magically disappear. When I open them, my supervisor’s cold eyed, expectant look is still very much in place.

“I…I promise I will pay all the outstanding fees soon. Please, I just need more time. I’ll get an extra job. I will…”

She holds up a hand and I clamp my l*ps shut. I have a feeling I wouldn’t like what she has to say next.

“Miss Carson, you have to understand that the board has given you more than enough time to clear your debts. Surely, two years is more than enough.”

The ‘tap, tap’ sounds of her pen against the mahogany desk only heightens my tension.

“A memo was sent personally on your case yesterday. It says that you either pay by the end of the work week, or stand the chance of having your name erased from the student book. Once that is done, it is completely irrevocable.”

I freeze, my eyes bulging in shock. The end of the work week?

“B-but today is Tuesday.”

She nods, her icy gray eyes glinting in the overhead lights.

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“Which means you have exactly three days to do as you’re told. Failure would warrant your immediate withdrawal.

That will be all for now, miss Carson. Please see yourself out.”

She lowers her head to the papers before her, promptly dismissing me.

When my shock finally abates, tears pr ick my eyes and an overwhelming feeling of frustration crushes me. A stray tear drop plops on her table and she shoots me a look filled with annoyance.

“P-please, supervisor. I might not find fifty thousand dollars in three days. Isn’t there something else I can do?” I sniff, “Please, I have come too far to be withdrawn now.”

She leans back in her seat, her arms folded

“I am very sorry, miss Carson. Believe me, I do not enjoy being the bearer of bad news, but I have no power over these things. There is absolutely nothing I can do for you.”

I open my mouth to beg one more time, but she adds sharply.

“I have lots to get done. Please leave my office. Now.”

Head bowed and feeling completely dejected, I walk out of her office and into the ever busy school hallway.

I pull my hoody over my head to hide my tears and make my way to the exits.

I do not ever remember life being easy or rosy. My dad left when I was ten years old. I still remember the cold look in his eyes when I begged him to stay, atleast for mum’s sake. Shortly after he left, my mum sl*pped into deep depression, so I was left to take care of myself at a very young age.

I got introduced into the hustling streets of New York pretty quickly because I had a mother who always ‘forgot’ to buy me clothes and even food.

What didn’t I do to survive and escape the foster care system? I stole, I sang for a few pennies, I even walked dogs and mowed lawns. But even at that age, I knew I wanted better for myself.

1 would watch the news on television everyday, imagining I was one of the beautiful women who reported from all over the world. I would imitate their smiles and gestures. I wanted so badly to be them.

Fast forward to when I was twenty one. I was juggling my fees and rent, engaged to the most amazing man and, finally closer to achieving my dreams when tragedy struck once again. Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer, and I was solely responsible for paying her hospital bills.

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Chapter 2

So when I say my life is terrible, I mean it.

I blink rapidly in an effort to keep my tears at bay. I have a raging headache, my eyes. are swollen and I haven’t had up to an hour’s sleep since I got back from my shift at Teddy’s Place, a 24/7 bar and restaurant where I work.

On a sudden thought, I fl*p out my phone and dial my fiance’s number. He answers on the fourth ring.

“Hey, babe.” He sounds chirpy as usual.

“Hey.” I choke out.

Silence on the other end.

“Are you okay?”

I bite my l*ps and shake my head, then remember that he cannot see me.

“No.” I whisper. “Can you please come get me at school?”

“Ah, f uck. It’s a busy day at the bakery today. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it.”

My heart twists painfully. I want to scream that he’s hardly ever there when I need him anymore. Instead, I just heave a breath and hang up. He calls two more times but I do not answer. We’ll talk later.

I call my best friend, Clarissa. It only takes two sniffs to have her racing to her car to pick me up. I love her so much.

“Wait for me at the entrance, sweetie. I’ll be right there.”

I stuff my phone back in my backpack, making a m ental note to visit mum at the hospital later this evening. Head bowed and heart still aching, I continue my journey to the entrance.

It all happens in a blur.

One minute, I am contemplating my life’s choices and the next, I’m crashing into a brick wall.

It takes me a full second to realise that the

brick wall is actually a chest. A rock solid, delicious smelling chest.

A

gasp

of shock escapes me as my arms flail about in a desperate attempt to maintain my balance.

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In a swift second, a strong arm wraps around my waist, slamming me once more against that hard chest and breaking my fall.

My fingers instinctively grab fistfuls of his suit jacket and my cheeks land against a shirt made of the softest cotton. Soft and undoubtedly expensive.

As the seconds tick by, I remain completely still, hoping to G od that I’m dreaming, praying that I have not just embarrassed myself in a hallway filled with hundreds of students, some of whom are probably getting my epic disgrace on video as we speak.

My eyes move slowly upwards, roving over his impressive suit covered chest and the strong column of his throat.

My heart thumping out of tune, I watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. The single action sends a strange tingling through my entire frame.

Snap out of it, Lily Carson! My subconscious yells.

Just then, I feel the rumbling of his chest as he says,

“Miss? Are you okay?”

The question has my heart clenching in pain and it all comes tumbling back frustration, the dejection, the utter hopelessness.

the

To my horror, my eyes fill with tears once more. Tears I cannot control.

My head falls back against the stranger’s chest and I proceed to bawl my eyes out.

“N-no, I’m not okay.” I hiccup. “C-could you please h-hold me for a little while longer?”

I do not wait for his response. He might probably file charges of public harassment against me later on, but I cannot bring myself to care at this point. I’m exhausted.

I wrap my hands around him and bury my face against his chest as great, heaving so bs wrack my frame. After a few seconds of getting his expensive shirt wet with tears, he wraps his arms around my middle, pulling me closer against him in a comforting gesture.

That just makes me cry harder.

I cry for my crashing hopes and dreams. I cry for my mum. I cry for my failing relationship with my soon to be husband.

When I’ve finally cried to my fill, my headache rages harder and I feel the stirrings of sleep begin to pull me down, but I have never felt so content in my entire life. So…safe.

“Feeling any better?”

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Chapter 2

That soft, dark baritone flits through my senses…and I jerk away as harsh reality comes crashing back. I can already feel my cheeks reddening in embarrassment as I slowly unwrap myself from around him.

My head snaps up.

“I’m so sorr…”

Words freeze in my throat when I finally meet his eyes….when I finally get a good look at him.

Heart stoppingly gorgeous wouldn’t do the man an inch of justice. With eyes, a dark sapphire blue and a jaw that could give any Greek g od a run for their money, this man looks like a combination of those se xy-as-hell Calvin Klein underwear models and the dangerous Capo of an underworld criminal organisation.

His slightly long, dark hair is perfectly slicked back in a sleek ponytail, and he is currently staring at me with an expression that has my panties melting. He looks older. Early forties is my best bet.

Oh for Go d’s sake, Lily. You just cried all over the man.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need to sit down?”

That voice again. Like a dark, sensuous caress. Out of nowhere, it hits me that I must have heard a hint of an Italian accent there somewhere. Or was it Spanish…?

“Are you Italian?” I croak.

He opens his mouth to answer but just then, a black haired beauty breezes in, takes his arm and smacks his cheek with an affectionate k*ss.

I watch as his l*ps tighten. He does not reciprocate the woman’s loving gesture but that does not stop my chest from heaving with newfound horror.

Please do not tell me I just cried all over someone’s husband. Please, please, please…

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you sweetheart,” the woman purrs, confirming my thoughts.

Her catty green eyes finally land on me. At this point, I would give anything to have the ground open up and swallow me. I kid you not.

She gives me a disgusted up and down look, but it is not her eyes I feel on me. It is his eyes. The gorgeous, nameless…married stranger.

I feel my pulse quicken under his persistent stare. I need to get out of here.

Chapter 2

“Sweetheart, is this the help you were talking about?”

My head snaps up at the woman’s venomous tone, a streak of anger shooting through my blood.

The help? Do I really resemble the help?

I wait for the stranger to say something in my defense. Instead, his next words make me even angrier.

“I’m not sure.” He growls. “Are you the maid? The one who was supposed to resume today?”

It takes me a second to realize that his question is directed at me.

My eyes are swollen and I probably look like the help in my hand me down sneakers. and faded shirt, but I raise my chin and level both of them with a stare fit for the queen.

“I am not anyone’s help. I will never be.

Then with one last glance into the most gorgeous blue eyes I have ever seen, I turn around and run.


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