Maid To The Billionaire: The Tycoon's Love (Part Two) (Billionaire Romance)

Maid To The Billionaire: The Tycoon's Love (Part Two) (Billionaire Romance) by Holly Rayner Page B

Book: Maid To The Billionaire: The Tycoon's Love (Part Two) (Billionaire Romance) by Holly Rayner Read Free Book Online
Authors: Holly Rayner
and then she dismissed the rest of the staff so we could have an evening alone with our son.”
     
    “It’s incredible!” There was a hand-written banner welcoming Michael and me home, a huge bouquet of red roses, sparkling apple cider chilling for me and champagne for Alex. I can’t drink while I’m breastfeeding so it was so nice of them to remember that and leave me the cider. There were silver trays filled with finger sandwiches and one with a big pile of boiled crab legs, a huge bowl of Caesar salad and another area with cheesecake and chocolate covered strawberries and chocolate cupcakes… It was amazing. “Thank you!”
     
    He grinned. “You’re welcome. You deserve it and as soon as I can tear you away from the other man in your life, I’d like to take you out on a real date.”
     
    Alex tried to no avail while Michael was in the hospital to get me to go out to dinner with him. I couldn’t do it. I knew that it was pointless and I wouldn’t enjoy a bite, knowing that I’d left my baby alone with strangers. I don’t think Alex has any idea how badly I want to spend time with him… but as badly as I do want that, I want to be a good mother even more. Hopefully, he can help me find a balance, so that I will be able to do both. For now, I avoided the subject by looking at the food.
     
    “This looks so yummy! I’m so hungry!” We fixed our plates and sat down together to eat.
As we ate he said, “Tell me more about you, Vicki. I know that you grew up in Glendale, are your parents still there?”
     
    I felt the color rise to my cheeks. I didn’t like talking about my parents with my friends. Talking about them to someone like Alex who I assume led a charmed life… that was even more difficult. “Well, I guess since we’re linked at least for the next eighteen years you have a right to know, but please don’t judge me by my relatives.”
     
    He flashed his dimples at me. “I would never,” he said.
     
    “When I was five, my father decided that being married, and especially married with a kid was not what he wanted to be. My mother probably didn’t help the situation any by refusing to give up her gig as a professional pole dancer.” He was still looking at me and the look on his face hadn’t changed at all. “Do you wish you would have asked me this before we made a baby together?”
     
    He grinned again and said, “We can’t help who we’re born to. Have you ever seen your father since?”
     
    I shook my head. “My mother always said that was a good thing. She said he was an alcoholic and basically an all-around bum. I vaguely remember him… I mostly remember being afraid of him and feeling almost relieved when he left.”
     
    “Did he hurt you?”
     
    “No, at least not that I recall. He just had this kind of menacing way about him and he was huge, so to a five year old, he looked like an angry giant.”
     
    “I’m sorry, Vicki. Little girls should have a father they can look up to and be proud of.”
     
    I nodded. “It wasn’t fun growing up without a father, especially since my mother paraded a lot of ‘Uncles’ through the house every month… or sometimes every week.”
     
    “Do you still see her?”
     
    I felt guilty… I’m not sure why. I expected him to think poorly of me for saying yes, but I wasn’t going to lie to him. “I do. I know that it’s silly, but I still keep hoping at nearly twenty-four years old that she’s suddenly going to change and want to be my mother.”
     
    “It’s not silly. It’s what we all want. I can actually identify with your pain.”
     
    I raised an eyebrow. “Was your mother a pole dancer too?” I asked, jokingly.
     
    He smiled. “No, but she wasn’t motherly at all. She was a stereotypical Orange County housewife. My father was a successful businessman and he worked a lot of hours. My mother spent time playing tennis and heading up charities and lunching with her friends; she didn’t have the time or the

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