Книга - Twins For The Billionaire

Twins For The Billionaire
Sarah M. Anderson


Seducing the Single Mum Widowed mom Sofia Bingham needs a job—fast! Her babies won't feed themselves. Working for real estate tycoon Eric Jenner is the perfect solution. But her childhood buddy is all grown up now…and tempting as hell. Surely one unforgettable night of passion wouldn't hurt? After that, they can go back to being all business!But Eric doesn't agree that they should put their red-hot romance on ice. He can't deny his connection to Sofia's adorable twins—or his consuming desire for their mother. What will it take to convince her that he's playing for keeps?







Seducing the Single Mom

Widowed mom Sofia Bingham needs a job—fast! Her babies won’t feed themselves. Working for real estate tycoon Eric Jenner is the perfect solution. But her childhood buddy is all grown up now...and tempting as hell. Surely one unforgettable night of passion wouldn’t hurt? After that, they can go back to being all business!

But Eric doesn’t agree that they should put their red-hot romance on ice. He can’t deny his connection to Sofia’s adorable twins—or his consuming desire for their mother. What will it take to convince her that he’s playing for keeps?


God, how she wanted to be comforted.

To be touched like Eric was touching her now. She wanted to be the one taking the attention and affection instead of constantly having to give more and more of herself.

“Sofia,” he said again, his voice sending low flutters through her belly.

Really, no matter what the question was, the answer was simple. “Yes.”

His hands slid to a stop on the curve of her calves. Funny how she’d never really thought of calves as being particularly sensual until now. “Will you lie down and rest for a bit?”

She looked at him then. One of the most powerful men in Chicago—and quite possibly the country, to say nothing of the world—was on his knees before her, waiting for her answer.

She uncurled her fingers from where she’d fisted the bedclothes and reached out to stroke his cheek.

“Only if you join me.”

* * *

Twins for the Billionaire is part of Mills & Boon Desire’s No.1 bestselling series, Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men… wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.


Twins for the Billionaire

Sarah M. Anderson






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


SARAH M. ANDERSON may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out west on the Great Plains. Sarah’s book A Man of Privilege won an RT Book Reviews 2012 Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. The Nanny Plan was a 2016 RITA® Award winner for Contemporary Romance: Short.

Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and billionaires. Find out more about Sarah’s heroes at www.sarahmanderson.com (http://www.sarahmanderson.com) and sign up for the new-release newsletter at www.eepurl.com/nv39b (http://www.eepurl.com/nv39b).


To the real Adelina and Eduardo—thanks for all your years of friendship and support with my family!


Contents

Cover (#u1c8d6265-f21d-51d4-abc1-721b9cb397f6)

Back Cover Text (#uce217b17-202c-55cb-a1fe-d69e76b2cc2c)

Introduction (#ubab81d60-e912-5620-94ce-5952edfa8fb9)

Title Page (#u96cf7375-eda0-529a-9515-29f1f5c1ad4b)

About the Author (#u2ab3dc21-21e2-5680-b12f-68ec154e9600)

Dedication (#u642b83ec-aa63-5b7c-af0e-108b14acd6db)

Prologue (#ua55a2390-cd45-57d5-8641-769a78995b58)

One (#ucbaca8da-48b0-54b2-b0ce-9958da3baf49)

Two (#u670a8e1c-7064-50c8-88db-8258e3636b96)

Three (#ud6afad61-0cab-51b5-a79d-3cccd9d4b267)

Four (#uc62f759d-df5c-5e74-ac5f-8f5470f26412)

Five (#u31cbf35d-e60f-5fc8-b673-c52f55296f00)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue (#u1834f51f-193b-5ab9-b731-81137975f699)

“So that’s it?” Eric Jenner stared at the private investigator’s report in his hand. The baby wasn’t his. Somehow, he’d known this would be the answer.

Funny how it still hurt like hell.

“That’s it.” The investigator stood. “Unless there was something else you needed?”

Eric almost laughed. What did he need? He needed a happy ending to this whole mess. But it was clear he wasn’t going to get one. Not today. Maybe not ever.

He gritted his teeth. Bad enough that he’d been stood up at the altar—literally. Six months later, the press was still having a field day with the photos of Eric looking stunned next to the priest. In front of six hundred wedding guests. In the Holy Name Cathedral.

But this? He knew he couldn’t keep it quiet forever. Prudence had married less than two weeks after she’d left Eric at the altar. Apparently, it was true love. How else to explain Prudence running away with an accountant from her father’s company? Who’d fathered Prudence’s son and was, according to the PI’s account, making her the happiest woman in the world.

Eric was thrilled for them. Really.

He breathed in slowly and exhaled even slower. “If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know,” he said to the investigator. The man nodded and left.

Eric read the report again. Oddly, he didn’t miss Prudence. He didn’t lie awake in bed at night, missing her touch. He didn’t regret putting the condo he’d bought for her back on the market.

He’d clearly dodged a bullet. Except for one small detail.

That detail had been born at seven pounds, six ounces. He stared at the picture the investigator had included. The baby was bundled up in Prudence’s arms, his eyes closed and a little smile on his face. She’d named him Aaron.

Something tightened in Eric’s chest. No, Eric didn’t miss Prudence at all. But...

Everywhere he went, people had babies. Suddenly, he couldn’t avoid them. Even his oldest friend, Marcus Warren, had recently adopted a baby boy. After he’d married his assistant, of all people.

Eric and Marcus had always competed with each other—who had made the first million (Eric), the first billion (Marcus), who had the finest cars (it changed all the time) or the biggest boat. Eric always won that one, hands down.

It wasn’t like the contest was over. But the rules had changed and Eric wasn’t ready for this new game. He wasn’t ready to stand by as his best friend cooed over his son while his wife looked at them both with love in her eyes.

It should have been nauseating.

Eric and Marcus’s entire friendship was built on one-upmanship. But a loving wife and an adorable child?

And now this news from Prudence was the final blow.

One thing was clear. Eric had never lost this badly.

To hell with this.

He was Eric Jenner. He owned a quarter of the Chicago skyline, some of the most expensive properties in the world. He’d officially joined the exclusive ranks of billionaires. He was, he had been told, good-looking and good in bed. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t buy.

What he needed now was distraction. The kind he’d find in the arms of someone new who’d drive thoughts of happy families far from his mind. He hadn’t lost anything. He was glad Prudence was gone—that marriage would have been a disaster. He’d gotten lucky. He wasn’t tied down. He could do whatever he wanted—and what he wanted was everything.

The world was his for the taking. All he had to do was snap his fingers and whatever he wanted was his.

Abruptly, he slammed the report shut and jammed it in the bottom drawer of his desk.

Well.

Almost anything.

It turned out there were some things money couldn’t buy.


One (#u1834f51f-193b-5ab9-b731-81137975f699)

Ten months later...

The elevator door dinged. Sofia Bingham waited for the rest of the crowd to exit first, nerves swirling in her stomach. She was really doing this—interviewing for the job of office manager at Jenner Properties.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped into the foyer of Eric Jenner’s real estate empire. In her mind, this office had looked exactly the same as Eric’s father’s real estate office. Jenner and Associates had been a regal office located on the ground floor of a four-story building. John and Elise Jenner had run their exclusive agency on the Gold Coast of Chicago, catering to the rich and the ultrarich.

Her father, Emilio, had started as a janitor before moving up to staging houses for the Jenners and then starting his own company as a bilingual real estate agent. Sofia’s mother, Rosa, had been the Jenners’ housekeeper and Elise Jenner had had a soft spot for Sofia. Elise had showered Sofia with dresses and toys.

When Sofia had been growing up, the Jenners had seemed like the richest people in the world.

None of that had prepared her for this.

Jenner Properties took up the whole of the fortieth floor of the skyscraper at 310 South Wacker Drive. She could see Lake Michigan from here, the sun glittering off the water like a mirage come to life.

She smiled. It had been years since she had seen Eric Jenner, but she wasn’t surprised he had a good view of the lake. He’d always loved the water. Not only had he taught her to swim in his family’s pool but he’d even taught her how to sail his toy sailboats so they could race.

Around her, more elevators opened and more people poured out. Jenner and Associates had been run primarily by John and Elise Jenner and two other agents. But Jenner Properties was staffed by a small army of very serious-looking people, all of whom wore good suits and better shoes. Sofia looked down at her skirt and jacket combo, the nicest outfit she owned that didn’t have baby food stains on it. It was cute—a black-and-white polka-dotted skirt with a white jacket over a black blouse with a bow at the neck—but it wasn’t in the same class of clothing as the people rushing past her.

She stepped to the side and stared out at the lake. She was here for a job interview. The position of office manager had opened up and Sofia simply couldn’t keep working as a real estate agent. She needed regular hours and a regular paycheck. It was easy to say that she needed both of those things for her twins, Adelina and Eduardo, but the truth was, she needed them for herself.

Yes, this job paid enough that she could hire a nanny to help Mom out. Sofia had been a real estate agent with her husband, David. She couldn’t be one without him anymore.

There were other office manager jobs she could apply for, but this one paid more. That wasn’t the only reason she was here, however...

Would Eric remember her?

There was no reason he should. She hadn’t seen him since he’d turned sixteen and gone away to prep school in New York. Their paths hadn’t crossed in the fifteen years since and Sofia was no longer a gangly thirteen-year-old with crooked teeth.

So he wouldn’t recognize her. He probably wouldn’t even remember her. After all, she’d just been the daughter of the family maid and the janitor.

But she’d never forgotten him. Time might have changed her but a girl never forgot her first kiss. Even if that kiss had been the result of a dare, it still counted.

Nervously, she watched Eric’s employees file in. She needed this job, but she wanted to earn it on her own merits. She didn’t want to have to rely on an old family connection that he’d probably forgotten.

But desperate times and all that.

There was a lull in people exiting the elevators as she stepped forward to the reception desk. She and David had worked in a perfectly respectable office serving northern Chicago, Skokie, Lincolnwood, Evanston and the surrounding areas. But even the receptionist here had a nicer desk than she’d had at the office.

“Hello,” Sofia began, projecting more confidence than she felt right now. “My name is Sofia Bingham and I have a nine a.m. interview with Mr. Jenner.”

The receptionist was young, blonde and gorgeous. Her eyebrows alone were works of art, to say nothing of the trendy patterned jacket she wore. Her eyes flicked over Sofia, but she didn’t so much as frown, which had to count for something. “You’re here for the office manager position?” Even her voice sounded trendy.

“Yes.” Confident. That was Sofia. She could handle an interview. She could handle this office—although it didn’t seem to need a lot of managing.

“One moment, please.” The receptionist turned her attention to her computer screen.

Sofia’s stomach tightened with anxiety. She’d been selling real estate for over seven years and before that, she’d been helping at her parents’ agency. But managing an office like this?

This wasn’t just real estate agents. Eric Jenner no longer bought and sold houses. He bought land and built things, like this skyscraper. He employed agents and architects and interior designers and lawyers. He built exclusive office spaces and luxury apartments. And he did it so well that he had become a billionaire. Sofia didn’t stalk Eric online but it’d been hard to miss when he’d been left at the altar and then, just a few months later, been named one of Chicago’s top five eligible bachelors, following the marriage and subsequent delisting of his friend, Marcus Warren.

What was she even doing here? She didn’t know anything about billionaires. She knew how to sell houses and condos to families, not manage architects and negotiate tax breaks with municipalities. She was struggling to hold on to middle-class respectability, for crying out loud. She’d had to move back in with her parents because she couldn’t afford house payments or daycare. This was not her world.

Her chest tightened and she had trouble breathing.

Oh, no.

No, she could not have a panic attack. Not another one, not right now. She took a step back from the reception desk, the urge to flee so strong it was almost overwhelming. Two things stopped her. The first was the image of the twins in her mother’s arms this morning, all waving bye-bye to Sofia as she went off for her big interview. Mom had been training Adelina and Eduardo to blow kisses and it was the cutest thing ever. The twins needed more than Sofia could give them right now. They needed stability and safety. They needed a mom who wasn’t teetering on the edge, trying to keep everything together. To be that person for her children, she needed a steady job.

The other thing that halted her in her tracks was the sound of her name. “Ms. Bingham?”

She looked up and the air rushed out of her lungs. There he was. She’d seen pictures of him in those impossible-to-miss articles, but there was something unexpected about Eric Jenner in the flesh that shook her.

That smile, at least, hadn’t changed. But the rest of him? Eric Jenner was now over six feet tall, moving with an easy grace that projected strength and confidence. He was simply breathtaking in a way she hadn’t ever associated with him. His hair had deepened from bright copper to a rich burnished red, although his skin was still tanned. She almost grinned. Bronzed redheads were such a rare thing that it only made him all the more special.

One thing was certain—he was not the boy she remembered. His shoulders were broader, his legs more powerful as they closed the distance between them. And his eyes... When she lifted her gaze to his, he stumbled to a stop, his brow quirking and she knew he recognized her, even if he didn’t know from where. Something in her chest loosened and she could breathe again because she knew it was going to be all right.

She hoped, anyway.

Then the realization broke over his face. “Sofia?” He took a step forward before pulling up short. “I’m sorry,” he went on in a completely different voice. “You look like someone I used to know.”

She became aware that they were standing in the middle of the reception area and that, while no one was openly staring at them, a lot of people were paying attention to this conversation. She clutched the strap of her handbag harder. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Jenner,” she said because she did not want to presume anything at this point.

His face lit up and dang if that didn’t make her smile. “What are you doing here? And when did you get married?” He paused and looked at her again. A warm heat flushed her cheeks. Great. Blushing.

It only got worse when he said, “Wow. You really grew up.”

Her anxiety tried to wrestle control, but she powered through. “Actually, I’m your nine a.m. I’m here about the job.” He blinked at her. “The opening for office manager?” she prompted him.

“Oh, oh—right.” He glanced around, as if he was also just becoming aware of how this conversation might look to his employees. “This office could definitely use some management. Come on back.” He cast a critical eye around and people seemed to melt back into their offices but he did so with a faint smile on his face. Sofia caught the receptionist grinning and rolling her eyes. Eric saw it, too, and said, “All right, Heather—back to work.”

“Of course, Mr. Jenner,” Heather the receptionist said, still smiling. She had perfectly white, perfectly even teeth, which was almost enough to distract Sofia from the sly way she winked.

Eric winked back.

Sofia’s heart began to pound again. What did she know about him, really? The boy he’d been had been someone privileged and wealthy but still kind to a little girl. He’d taught her how to swim and roller-skate and had, on more than one occasion, played tea with her and some of his mother’s delicate china dolls.

But that didn’t mean he was the same person now. Yes, he was rich, handsome—and single. Of course he would make eyes at the beautiful young receptionist. And the beautiful young receptionist—well, she wasn’t stupid. Of course she would make eyes back.

Sofia had just begun to feel invisible when Eric turned back to her. “I had no idea you were applying for this job,” he said, motioning for her to follow him. “Tell me about your husband. Who was lucky enough to land Sofia Cortés?”

He said it in a way that was almost believable, the kind of benign flirting a man like Eric no doubt excelled at. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t run-of-the-mill small talk to Sofia. All she could do was keep breathing.

She didn’t say anything until he led her back into his office. The room was huge, with leather couches and a massive mahogany desk, plus a wet bar. And behind it all was a wall of glass facing due east. He had an almost perfectly unobstructed view of Lake Michigan. She didn’t sell downtown real estate, but even she knew this view was worth millions.

He closed the door behind her. For a moment, they stood with less than two feet separating them. Sofia became acutely aware of the heat of his body and it made her flush in a way that hadn’t happened in months. Years.

“What an amazing vista,” she said, striving for lighthearted—and willing him away from conversation about David. Willing away the heat she couldn’t seem to ignore.

Eric Jenner was every inch the billionaire bachelor. There was no doubt in her mind that his suit was custom-made—everything he wore was probably custom-made, right down to his socks. He’d paired a bold royal blue suit with a light pink shirt and a silk tie that probably cost as much as her car payment. It all fit him like a second skin.

A forgotten feeling began to pulse through her body, a steady pounding that got louder with each beat. For a dazed moment, she didn’t recognize it.

Desire. That’s what this tight, hot heaviness was. Want. She’d forgotten she could feel this way anymore. She’d thought...well, she’d thought she’d buried her needs with her husband.

The realization that she could still feel raw attraction was startling enough. But the fact that her body was feeling desire for Eric? Her cheeks got hotter by the second and here in the privacy of his office, there weren’t any winking receptionists or dinging elevators to distract his attention.

He stared at her, his eyes darkening. Her lungs refused to expand and she began to feel light-headed. She couldn’t want Eric and he shouldn’t be looking at her like that. That wasn’t why she’d come.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” she blurted out, making a conscious effort to look around the room. Photographs of him with famous people were mixed in with expensive-looking paintings and pictures of his buildings.

After a pause that was so quiet she was sure he could hear her pulse pounding, he said, “Was there any doubt?”

It sounded so cocky that she jerked back to look at him. He had a wolf’s grin on his face, but then everything about him softened and she almost saw the boy she’d known. “I work hard for what I have, but let’s be honest—I started from a place higher than almost everyone else, thanks to my parents.”

A little bit of the anxiety loosened in her chest. Yes, he had always been the privileged son of privileged people. But the Eric she remembered had been almost embarrassed by that fact. His parents hadn’t raised him to be an entitled, spoiled brat. How much of that boy still existed inside of him? Or was he the kind of man who hired a beautiful receptionist—or even a mildly attractive office manager—just to get her in bed?

She didn’t want him to be like that. If he was, she wasn’t sure she could destroy her fondest memories of him with reality. “How are your parents? I know they still exchange Christmas cards with my parents.”

Eric sighed, an action of extreme exaggeration that made him look younger. “They’re fine. They’re disappointed I didn’t manage to get married and start producing grandchildren, but they’re fine.” Before she could process that statement, he asked, “Your folks?”

“Doing well. I don’t know how much your parents have shared with you, but after you went away to school, my father started selling houses. Your father opened the door for him,” she added, always mindful of what the Jenners had done for her family. “It turned out there was a huge market for bilingual real estate agents and Dad was able to capitalize on that. He owns an agency in Wicker Park. Mom stays home with my children now. They spoil each other rotten.”

His eyes widened before he turned away from her and strode toward his desk. Each step put physical distance between them—but there was no missing the emotional distance that went up like a wall around him.

This was all casual small talk, every bit of it. But there was something else going on that Sofia couldn’t put her finger on. When he’d complained about his parents wanting grandbabies, it hadn’t sounded quite right. And the look in his eyes when she’d mentioned her kids? On anyone else it would’ve been longing. She couldn’t believe that someone like Eric Jenner, who literally had the world at his feet, would be interested in an old acquaintance’s babies.

He didn’t sit at the desk, didn’t turn around. Instead, he stared out at the lake. Although it was still early, she could see a few boats out on the water, ready to enjoy the beautiful summer day. “I hadn’t heard that you’d gotten married. Congratulations.” His voice was level—unfeeling, almost.

“Oh.” She couldn’t help the dejected noise that escaped. Eric half turned, his silhouette outlined in sunshine. “I’m not. I mean, I was. But he...he died.” No matter how long it’d been, her voice caught every time she had to state that fact out loud. “Seventeen months ago.” Not that she was counting the days—the hours—since the worst day of her life.

She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. If she did this quickly, it wouldn’t hurt so badly. That was the theory, anyway. “I don’t know if you’d ever heard of him—David Bingham? We worked at a real estate agency up in Evanston.”

He turned and took a step toward her and for a second, she thought he was going to fold her into his arms and she was going to let him. But he pulled up short. “Sofia,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. How are you doing?”

That wasn’t small talk. That was an honest question from one of her oldest friends. God, she’d missed Eric.

It was so tempting to lie and smooth over the awkward moment with platitudes. Lord knew Eric was probably looking for an easy answer.

But none of her answers were easy. “That’s why I’m here. My twins are—”

“Twins?” he cut her off, his eyes bugging out of his head. “How old?”

“Fifteen months.”

He let out a low whistle of appreciation as his gaze traveled the length of her body. Her cheeks warmed at his leisurely inspection but then his face shuttered again. “I can’t even imagine how difficult that must have been for you. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“I...thank you. It’s been hard. Which,” she went on before he could distract her from her purpose again with his kind eyes and kinder words, “is why I’m here. David and I sold houses together and since he passed I just...can’t. I need a job with regular hours and a steady paycheck to provide for my children.” There. She’d gotten her spiel out and it’d only hurt a little.

“What are their names?”

“Adelina and Eduardo, although I call them Addy and Eddy—which my mom hates.” She pulled her phone out of her handbag and called up the most recent picture, of the twins in the bath with matching grins, wet hair sticking straight up. “They’re officially toddlers now. Mom watches them but I think she’s outnumbered most days. I’d love to hire a nanny to help out.” And pay off the bills that were piling up and put a little away for the kids’ college funds and...

The list of problems money would solve for her was long. Even at the best of times, real estate involved odd hours and an unpredictable income. But if an agent couldn’t sell a house without sobbing in the car, then the income got very predictable. Zero.

Eric took the phone. She watched him carefully as he tilted the screen and studied their little faces. “They look like you,” he said. “Beautiful.”

Her face flushed at the sincere compliment. “Thank you. They’ve kept me going.”

Because if she hadn’t had two helpless little babies that needed to be fed and rocked and loved, she might’ve curled into a ball and given up. The numbing depression and crushing panic attacks were never far, but Addy and Eddy were more than just her children. They were David’s children—all she had left of him. She couldn’t let him down. She couldn’t let herself down.

So she’d kept moving forward—one day, one hour, sometimes even just one minute at a time. It’d gotten easier. That didn’t make it easy, though.

Eric stared at the shot of her babies for a long moment before finally motioning Sofia to one of the plush leather seats before his desk. “And you want to try your hand at office management? This isn’t a typical real estate office.”

She lifted her chin again. “Mr. Jenner—”

“Eric, Sofia. We know each other too well for formalities, don’t you think?” It was a challenge, the way he said it. “I’m not sure I could think of you as Mrs. Bingham, anyway. You’ll always be Sofia Cortés to me.”

She understood because she wanted to keep him as that fun, sweet boy in her mind forever. But she couldn’t afford to romanticize the potential billionaire employer sitting behind his executive desk and she couldn’t afford to let him romanticize her.

“That’s who I was,” she said, her words coming out more gently than she meant for them to. “But that’s not who I am now. We’ve grown up, you and I. We’re not the same kids splashing in the pool we used to be and I need this job.”

His gaze met hers and she saw something there that she didn’t want to think too deeply about. “Then it’s yours.”


Two (#u1834f51f-193b-5ab9-b731-81137975f699)

This was a mistake. Eric knew it before the words had left his mouth. But by then, it was too late.

He had just offered the position of office manager to a woman he wasn’t entirely sure was qualified.

That was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Because it wasn’t some random woman off the street. It was Sofia Cortés. He’d practically grown up with her.

But this wasn’t the little girl he remembered from his childhood. The woman before him was—well, she was all grown up. Despite the suit jacket and skirt she wore, Eric couldn’t help but notice her body. Sofia was a woman in every sense. She came almost to his chin, her thick black hair pulled away from her face. Eric had an unreasonable urge to sink his fingers into her hair and tilt her head to the side, exposing the long line of her neck.

He shook that thought out of his head. Why hadn’t his mother told him Sofia had gotten married and had twins, much less that her husband had died? Surely Mom knew. If nothing else, those were the sorts of things that tended to make a Christmas newsletter.

“Are you... Are you sure?” Sofia asked, looking stunned.

Eric felt much the same. He always did a thorough investigation of a candidate’s skills. Even when he knew he wanted to hire them anyway, like Heather for the position of receptionist. Not only did she have the perfect look for the face of his company, but she was finishing her MBA on the company’s dime. He hadn’t hired her just because she was hot, although that never hurt. He’d hired her because she was brilliant and would transition into the contracts department. It was never too early to begin building loyalty and Eric’s staff was beyond loyal.

That was something he’d learned from his father. Nurture the best talent and pay them well and they’d fight for you. Wasn’t that why Sofia was here? Because the Jenner family had supported the Cortés family?

“Of course,” he said with a certainty he wasn’t sure was warranted. “Can you do the job?”

The color deepened along her cheeks. He was not going to notice how pretty it was on her. She didn’t look like a widow with two adorable young children.

She looked...lush. And tempting.

He would not be tempted. One of his hard and fast rules was that he didn’t hit on staff. Flirt, maybe. But he never put a valued employee in a position where they felt they couldn’t say no because he was the boss.

What a shame he was hiring Sofia, then. Because that would put her completely out of reach. Which was fine. Good. She was undoubtedly still struggling with being a widow and a single mother. She didn’t need the complications that seemed to follow Eric like shadows cast by the afternoon sun.

Sofia cleared her throat. “I’m a quick study. I helped run my dad’s office when I was in school and staged homes part-time in college. I’ve been selling ever since I graduated.” She dropped her gaze and cleared her throat. “Until...”

What had she said? Seventeen months since she had been left a widow. And her twins—two of the cutest babies he had ever seen—were fifteen months old.

Eric’s world was one of logic and calculation. Real estate was a gamble on the best of days. But he always weighed the pros and cons of any option and he never bet more than he could afford to lose.

Of course, as a billionaire, he could afford to lose a lot.

Somehow, none of the usual checks and balances weighed much with this decision. Sofia was an old friend. Her family were good people. And those babies...

“The job is yours. There’ll be a learning curve, I’m sure, but I’m confident you’ll pick it up.” Either Sofia would or she wouldn’t. He had to give her that chance. And if she didn’t, then he’d help her find a position that better fit her skill set. Something with regular hours and a paycheck that would help her raise her toddlers by herself. And if that happened...then she wouldn’t work for him, would she? He could get to know her all over again. Every inch of her.

Hell. He was not thinking about Sofia—not like that. Especially because he was still hiring her. It was the right thing to do.

Her eyes were huge, but she managed a smile. “That’s...that’s wonderful.”

“We have a generous benefits package,” he went on, pulling a number out of thin air. “The starting salary is a hundred and twenty thousand a year, with bonuses based on performance. Is it enough?”

Her mouth dropped open and she looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. He could afford to pay well because hiring the best people was worth it in the long run. But he honestly couldn’t tell from her expression if she was insulted by that amount or flabbergasted.

“You can’t be serious,” she said in a strangled voice.

Eric raised an eyebrow at her. A couple extra thousand for him was nothing. Pocket change. “How about a hundred and forty-five?”

She got alarmingly pale. “Your negotiation skills are rusty,” she finally croaked out, a hand pressed to her chest. “You’re not supposed to go up, certainly not by twenty-five thousand. A hundred and twenty is enough. More than enough.”

Eric cracked a grin at her. “And your negotiation skills...” He trailed off, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “That would’ve been the point to say make it one fifty and it’s a deal. Are you sure you sold houses?” She got even paler and he realized teasing her was not the smartest thing to do. In fact, she looked like she was on the verge of fainting. “Are you all right?” He moved to the wet bar and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water. She was breathing heavily by the time he made his way back to her. “Sofia?”

He set the water on the desk and put his fingers on the side of her neck. Her pulse fluttered weakly under his touch and her skin was clammy. “Breathe,” he ordered, pushing her head down toward her knees. He crouched next to her. “Sofia? Honey, breathe.”

They sat like that for several minutes while he rubbed her back and tried his best to sound soothing. What the hell had happened? Normally, when he offered people more money, they jumped to say yes.

But this woman had actually tried to say no.

He focused on smoothing her hair away from her forehead, on how her muscles tensed and relaxed along her spine as he rubbed her back. Even through her jacket, he could feel the warmth of her body. He couldn’t imagine touching anyone else like this.

She was still struggling for air. Was this a medical crisis? He felt for her pulse again. It was steady enough. He needed to distract her. “Remember the sailboat races?” he asked. But he didn’t pull his hand away from her. He stayed close.

“Yes,” she said softly. “You let me win sometimes.”

“Let you? Come on, Sofia. You beat me fair and square.”

Her head popped up, a shaky grin on her face. “You’re being kind,” she said, her voice strangely quiet.

Eric realized there was less than a foot between them. If he wanted to kiss her, all he’d have to do was lean forward.

It came back to him in a rush—he’d kissed her once before, when they were kids. He’d had Marcus Warren over and Marcus had dared Eric to kiss her. So he had. And she’d let him.

Somehow, Eric knew that if he kissed her now, it wouldn’t be a timid touching of lips. This time, he’d taste her, dipping his tongue into her mouth and savoring her sweetness. He’d take possession of her mouth and, God willing, she’d...

He jerked back so quickly he almost landed on his butt. “Here,” he said gruffly, snagging the bottle of water off his desk and wrenching the cap off.

What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t be thinking about Sofia Cortés like that. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t the same innocent little kid. It didn’t even matter that she’d been married and had children. He couldn’t think of her like that.

He’d just hired her.

She took the water but didn’t look him in the eye. “I didn’t realize how expensive those toy boats were until we sank the loser that one time. Which was me, of course.”

“You were a worthy opponent but that avalanche was unavoidable,” he replied. He barely remembered the boat. But he did remember the sheer glee when they’d hit the boat with a decorative stone so large it’d taken both of them to toss it. The splash had been huge. “You have to admit it was fun.”

That got her to meet his gaze. “How old were we? I still remember the horror in my mom’s eyes when she caught us.”

“I was ten, I think. Old enough to know better, I was informed.” His parents had been more than a little exasperated with him, but his dad hadn’t been able to stop snickering when Eric had described the rockslide. “It was only a couple hundred dollars. No big deal.”

Well, that and his parents had made him get every single rock out of the pool. His mother was of the opinion that they didn’t need the pool boy to suffer for Eric’s foolishness. Still, it had taken three people to get the boulder out of the deep end.

Sofia rolled her eyes at him, which made him grin. “Maybe to you. My mother was horrified that we’d have to pay it back somehow.” She was talking to him now, sounding more like the Sofia he remembered. “There was no way we could have afforded that. Not then.”

“That’s why I took the blame.” He leaned against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He wished they weren’t in this office. He’d give anything to be out on the lake this morning. There, with the sun on his face and the wind in his hair, he’d be able to think clearly. Here, his mind was muddled.

She looked at him again. Her color was better and she seemed...well, not like the girl he’d known. But maybe someone he could still be friends with.

Friends who didn’t kiss, that was.

“You always were,” she murmured before she took another deep drink of the water.

“Were what?”

“Kind. One of the kindest people I’d ever known.” She dropped her gaze. “You still are. This job...” She swallowed.

Kind? This wasn’t kind. This was calculated. He was building loyalty and ensuring morale. This was keeping an eye on his business. And if it didn’t work out, well—he’d show her kind. He’d have her out of her buttoned-up jacket and skirt so fast her head would spin.

He laughed at his own thoughts, a bitter sound. “I’m not. I’m ruthless. A coldhearted bastard of the first order. Don’t you read the headlines?”


Three (#u1834f51f-193b-5ab9-b731-81137975f699)

Eric stared at her for a long moment, a dare in his eyes. Then he turned away and went to admire his view of the lake. The way he looked, silhouetted against the window, his shoulders broad and his hair curling gently just above the collar of his shirt—to say nothing of his backside in those custom-made pants...

She had seen the headlines, of course. He’d been left at the altar. He’d been named one of the “Top Five Billionaire Bachelors of Chicago.” He’d been ruthless in his business dealings. But none of that was who he really was.

Was it?

Even if life had changed them both, she knew that deep down, they were still the same people they’d been back when they’d been kids. He wasn’t a heartless bastard, no matter what people might say.

Heartless bastards wouldn’t have rubbed her back when she’d had a panic attack. They wouldn’t have gotten her water. They would have laughed her and her crippling anxiety right out of the office and slammed the door in her face.

Heartless bastards wouldn’t have looked like they were going to kiss her and they most certainly wouldn’t have stopped at just a look.

At least, Sofia thought that’s what Eric had been thinking. She hadn’t been kissed in a long time so she couldn’t be sure. She and David had enjoyed a passionate four years together before she’d gotten pregnant. But after her body had begun to change, so had their love life. The intimacy had been deeper, richer—but at the cost of some of the heat.

She fanned herself. It was unnaturally warm in here.

“Are you sure you want me to work for you? Good office managers don’t have panic attacks.”

“Of course they do,” he answered without turning around. “They just choose their locations wisely. I’ve always found it’s best to have a panic attack safely behind closed doors. No one wants to pass out next to the coffeepot.” He glanced back at her with a smirk. “Location, location, location—right?”

“Eric...”

A ripple of tension rolled over his shoulders. “Does that happen a lot?”

“It’s...better.” How to answer this question without making it sound like she was incapable of doing the job? “They started after David collapsed. One of them actually triggered early labor, but they got it stopped in time and I was on bed rest for five weeks. I hadn’t had one in a few months, though. I just wasn’t expecting any offer to be that...”

“Generous?”

“Insane.” This was the first time an attack had been triggered by something positive. “Eric, I can’t take that much money. The position was for seventy thousand. You can’t just randomly double it because we used to be friends.”

He made a scoffing sound and at that moment, he did sound a little ruthless. “First off, we’re still friends and second off, I absolutely can. Who’s going to stop me?”

A hundred and twenty was slightly more than she and David had earned together in a single year. The things she could do with that kind of money...but she didn’t want to be Eric’s charity case. “Most comparable positions are fifty to sixty thousand,” she protested.

That made him snort. “Comparable to what, Sofia? If you’re saying this position is just like running your suburban brokerage, you couldn’t be more wrong. I can promise you regular hours most of the time, but I’ll expect you to travel to potential sites occasionally. This isn’t just ordering paper clips and deciding how ten agents divide them. I employ forty lawyers, architects, agents, tax specialists, lobbyists—”

“Lobbyists?” The fact that she had no idea why he would have lobbyists on staff was probably a sign that she was in over her head.

“To negotiate with municipalities and influence laws, of course. We’re pursuing a project in St. Louis as we speak. If we play our cards right, we’ll get tax breaks from the city, county and state.” He grinned like he’d won the lottery.

“Of course,” she mumbled, unsure what else she was supposed to say. He was right. She was vastly out of her league.

“Besides,” he continued, sounding more than just a little cold as he turned his attention back out the window, “what’s a spare fifty thousand or so to a guy like me?”

Nothing, probably. She could see how that wouldn’t bankrupt a billionaire. Still, though. It was the principle of the matter. “But—”

“By the way,” he went on, as if she hadn’t spoken, “I have a better boat now. You should come with me sometime. I like to sail in the afternoons.”

He still wasn’t looking at her, but it was clear from the tone of his voice that the conversation about salary was finished.

“Is it a sailboat?” she asked.

“Nope. It’s a yacht. And we won’t sink this one with a rock, so don’t worry. You could...” He paused and then continued, “You could even bring the kids. I bet they’d love being out on the water.”

What was happening here? Eric was giving her a job and paying her way too much money. And now he was inviting her boating? With two rambunctious toddlers in tow? “Eric...”

“Never mind. I hear you’ve got a real bastard of a boss who won’t let you take off work just to go jetting around.” He turned and she barely recognized him at all—his face was that hard. “Come on. Let’s find out what you’ve gotten yourself into, shall we?”

More than she could handle, she thought as she followed him to the door of his office and into the heart of Jenner Properties.

* * *

Three hours later, Sofia knew she was in over her head. She was reasonably confident Eric knew it, too—but it didn’t seem to bother him. He would give her a look and say, “All right?” as if he were willing it to be true instead of asking a question.

He was putting a lot of faith in her and she didn’t want to let him down. She didn’t want to let her mom or her kids down, either. But most of all, she needed to do this for herself. This was the first big change she had undertaken on her own since her life had been thrown into upheaval a year and a half ago. She was tired of life happening to her. She was going to happen to her life. This job was the first step.

Even if that meant she would have to make it up as she went along.

“And here are Meryl and Steve Norton,” Eric was saying as he knocked on the last door to the office closest to his. “Meryl is my chief negotiator for the St. Louis project and Steve is the project manager. It helps that they’re married,” he added in a stage whisper. “Guys, this is Sofia Bingham. She’s our new office manager.”

“Hello,” Sofia said, smiling. Eric had stopped accidentally saying Cortés after only five or six introductions.

“Welcome,” a tall, jovial man with thinning hair said as he rose from a desk on one side of the office. He was a little soft around the middle, but his smile was friendly and his eyes were warm. “To the madhouse,” he went on, shaking her hand. “I’m Steve. I handle contractors.”

As big as Steve was, an equally tiny woman hopped down off her desk chair from the other side of the room. Steve slid his arm around her shoulders as Meryl Norton said, “Don’t listen to him. It’s not that bad—as long as you can embrace the madness. I’m Meryl and I handle politicians. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m generally friendly.” But she said it in such a way that Sofia couldn’t help but grin in response.

Eric’s wristwatch dinged and he said, “I’ve got to take this. Sofia, when you’re done catching up with the Nortons, ask Heather to show you where all the supplies are. If I’m still here when you’re done, stop in and see me. If not, check in with Tonya. She’ll have your contract.” With that, he was gone.

Sofia had done all right by his side because everyone in this building deferred to him. Eric seemed to understand his staff not just as employees but as people. Eric had given her a heads-up for the introverts who needed quiet to focus and the extroverts who needed someone to help them stay on task.

And Steve Norton clearly was an extrovert. “There’s a rumor going around that you and the big boss used to know each other,” he began with no other introduction, a slightly mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Honey,” Meryl said, elbowing him. If she hadn’t been so small, she would’ve elbowed him in the ribs. As it was, she more or less hit him in the hip bone. “Don’t pry. He pries,” she went on, giving Sofia a sympathetic look. “Did Mr. Jenner explain that there’ll be times when travel is a part of the job?”

“He did—and,” she added, before Steve could ask again, “we did know each other when we were little kids. His father gave my father his start in real estate.” Normally, she might not have revealed that. But it was better to clarify up front that she and Eric had never dated or otherwise had any romantic entanglements. In an office of this size, gossip could make her life a living hell. “Our parents still send Christmas cards to each other.”

Steve looked amused by this. Meryl said to her husband, “There. Now you don’t have to pry anymore. We’re planning a trip to St. Louis next month,” she went on, turning back to Sofia without pausing for breath. “They recently lost their football team and there’s a section of the downtown that’s depressed. We wouldn’t expect you to be involved in negotiations, but planning trips like this would be your responsibility. So far, Heather and I have been handling this together, but I think it would be a good idea for you to join us. That way, in the future, you’ll know how Mr. Jenner likes things done. You do have a background in real estate, correct?”

“I’ve been in real estate since I was fourteen. However, this is a different level,” she admitted. Okay, she could handle a business trip with Eric. No problem.

“That’s why the St. Louis trip will be good,” Meryl said decisively. She definitely talked like a negotiator. “You get a chance to see what Mr. Jenner is trying to accomplish when he branches out into smaller markets and how you can help make that happen. Understanding the business is key to understanding how the office works.”

Sofia glanced at Steve. For the project manager, he wasn’t doing a lot of talking. He looked like he wanted to ask her something else that was probably personal, but Meryl plowed ahead. “I’ll email you the current itinerary. We look forward to working with you, but no one expects you to manage Steve. That’s my job,” she added with a wink.

Steve protested loudly, although Sofia could tell it was all for show. Meryl waved Sofia away—but as she shut the door behind her, they were both laughing.

Sofia stood for a moment on the other side of the door, trying to get her bearings. She’d expected the interview to last an hour, if that—but she’d been here for almost four hours. Mom would worry, although the situation wouldn’t get desperate until the twins got up from their naps. They had just come through a protracted period of clinginess and it was still touch and go when Addy and Eddy were waking up.

Eric’s office was to the right of Steve and Meryl’s. His door was closed. There was a window to the left. It didn’t have a sweeping view of Lake Michigan, but it was no hardship to look at the Chicago skyline.

She stepped into a warm shaft of afternoon sunlight and checked her messages. Mom had texted a photo of the twins destroying their lunch. Sofia’s heart clenched as she looked at her babies. When she and David had discovered they were having twins, she’d planned to take time off after their birth. She’d even entertained the notion of a maternity leave that lasted several years. But the life insurance policy had run out and honestly, as overwhelming as today had been, it’d been nice to have a conversation without someone screaming.

She replied to the text message with what time she thought she’d be home and then paused to look at the office.

It was spotless and gleaming. Eric’s executive suite had been practically a temple to wealth and privilege, but even the carpet in the general areas was thick and plush. The office equipment she’d glanced at was state-of-the-art, and he provided snacks and beverages to everyone, not just coffee. Eric didn’t cheap out on providing for his employees.

This office—this job—represented so much for her. There was more to her than life as a widow and mother of two babies.

Eric Jenner was giving her the opportunity to be more.

She worked her way around the front of the office, where trendy Heather was still behind the receptionist desk. “Um, hello. Mr. Jenner told me to—”

She cut Sofia off without even looking up. “One moment.” Sofia swallowed. After a minute that felt painfully long, Heather finished whatever she was doing and stood, straightening her jacket. She had shimmering golden hair that fell halfway down her back. She was so young and effortlessly beautiful that Sofia couldn’t help but feel old and fat by comparison.

“The supply closet is this way.” Heather led Sofia back to a closet tucked behind the emergency stairwell. When they were inside with the door mostly shut behind them Heather turned to her. She cast a critical eye at Sofia’s outfit again. “I don’t know if anyone has said this to you yet,” she began and Sofia braced herself. Here it comes, she thought. Heather went on, “But we’re really glad you’re here.”

Sofia’s mouth dropped open in shock. “I’m sorry?” Of all the things she’d expected Heather to say, an expression of welcome hadn’t made the list. “You are?”

“Oh my gosh, yes. Stacy—the previous office manager? She got married and had a baby and decided she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. Mr. Jenner offered me the job? But I’m almost done with my MBA and he’s already promised me a job in the contracts department. I’ve been doing this job and the receptionist job and training for the contracts department while finishing up my schooling and it’s exhausting. I’m beyond thrilled to hand the reins over to you,” she said and her smile seemed surprisingly genuine.

Sofia realized she had misjudged the young woman. Just because she was pretty and fashionable didn’t mean Heather was catty or vain. “Do you like working for him?” Because Sofia had not forgotten those cheeky winks. “I mean, what kind of boss is he?”

“The best boss? I mean, really. The company is paying for my MBA. They already put my fiancée on the benefits package and we’re not even married yet?” She had this habit of ending her statements on an up note, as if she were asking a question. “You’d think that a billionaire like him would be a total jerk, but he’s actually really down-to-earth. The benefits package alone is worth this job? Everything else is just icing on the cake.”

Fiancé. Sofia took a deep breath and smiled widely. “Congratulations on your engagement. What’s his name?”

Heather slanted her a sly smile. “Her name is Suzanne.”

Sofia felt her cheeks go bright red. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume. It’s just that...” Well, there had been those winks.

“Oh, no worries,” Heather said, waving away Sofia’s embarrassment. “It’s a known fact that Mr. Jenner flirts with everyone. He’s an equal opportunity flirt. But he keeps a hard line between flirting and hitting on someone.” She leaned forward, her voice quieting to a whisper. “We’re not supposed to talk about his former fiancée—and I don’t recommend bringing it up—but there was a young woman who’d just started in the agent department when Mr. Jenner got dumped. She made a move.”

It was wrong to gossip about Eric, both as an old friend and a new boss. That noble sentiment didn’t stop Sofia from asking, “And?”

“And not only did he rebuff her advances, she was gone a month later.”

“He fired her?”

“No, actually. That’s the weird thing.” Heather looked just as confused as Sofia felt. “She got ‘a better offer’ from one of his business rivals. The rumor is Mr. Jenner engineered it. I overheard him tell the Nortons that Wyatt got what he deserved out of the deal.”

Wyatt—hadn’t there been a kid named Robert Wyatt back when they were kids? If she was thinking of the same boy, then that was the kid who’d cornered her one time while Eric had been in the bathroom and tried to cop a feel.

Sofia remembered she’d done what her father had taught her and kneed Wyatt hard in the groin. Eric had found his so-called friend rolling on the ground and yelling bloody murder and Sofia had been terrified Wyatt would get her mom fired. But instead, Wyatt never came back over to play and Mrs. Jenner had bought Sofia a doll with a new set of clothes.

Heather was staring intently at her. “Well. That’s...interesting, isn’t it?” Sofia said numbly.

If she’d thought that would be the end of the conversation, she was wrong. “You two used to know each other?” Heather, Sofia realized, was the office gossip. Which meant that she was a good person to have on Sofia’s side. But that didn’t mean she wanted to spread every childhood moment she and Eric had shared around the office. There was a fine line here and Sofia had to figure out how to walk it—quickly.

When she didn’t answer right away, Heather pressed on. “I mean, that’s what it sounded like. I’ve never heard him tell an interviewee—or anyone else, for that matter—that they ‘grew up.’”

“We knew each other when we were little kids. His father gave my father a start in business.” That line had worked well enough for the Nortons, but when Heather didn’t respond immediately, Sofia decided she needed to steer the conversation away from the past. “It’s good to hear that he’s still the same kid he used to be. I was hoping being a billionaire hadn’t changed him.”

Heather exhaled heavily. “I don’t think the money is what’s changed him,” she said quietly. Then she turned a too-bright smile to Sofia. “Okay? Here are the vendors that we use to order coffee...”

Sofia didn’t get the chance to ask what Heather meant by that. And did it matter, really? No. What mattered was that Eric was giving her an incredible opportunity and putting a great deal of faith in her. What mattered was that his staff loved working for him. What mattered more than anything, she decided, was that he didn’t sleep with his receptionist and he nurtured the talents of the people he hired.

She was going to make this work, she decided with renewed resolve.

So she better learn how to order the coffee.


Four (#u1834f51f-193b-5ab9-b731-81137975f699)

Normally, Eric would’ve been on the water by now. There was only one reason he was still at his desk today. Sofia. Somehow, he couldn’t leave without making sure she’d take the job.

He was supposed to be reading her contract and nondisclosure agreement, but it wasn’t going well. He was also supposed to be looking over the latest plans for the St. Louis trip, but he wasn’t doing that, either.

Instead, he was thinking about Sofia. He couldn’t remember the first time he’d seen her. She’d always been there. There hadn’t been any big formal goodbyes, either. The Cortés family had not come to his farewell party when he’d gone away to school. He hadn’t sought her out after the party. That had been that.

She’d always been a part of his life—until she wasn’t anymore. He wanted to think he’d regretted not getting the closure of a goodbye, but honestly, he wasn’t sure he had.

Now suddenly Sofia was back in his life. A mother with two little babies who depended on her.

She was taking the job, by God. That was final.

A soft knock on his door pulled him out of his messy thoughts. “Yes?”

The door opened and there she was. His breath caught in his throat as she stepped into his office. It didn’t seem possible that she got lovelier every time he saw her.

But there was no denying it—she was simply prettier than she’d been an hour ago. Especially when her eyes lit up as she looked at him, her mouth softening into a kissable smile. “You’re still here,” she said, a touch of wonder in her voice. “I thought you’d be out on the lake by now.”

He grinned. It didn’t mean anything that she remembered how much he needed the water. Everyone else thought it was part of his eccentric charm, but Sofia had always understood that he needed the water like some people needed the air. “I’m still here,” he told her. “Have a seat. I’m just going over your contract.”

He watched her carefully as she crossed the room and sat in front of him. She looked a little bashful, but not like she was on the verge of another anxiety attack. “I don’t suppose you made my salary something reasonable?”

“A hundred and twenty thousand is very reasonable, Sofia.”

She laughed. “What if I’m not worth that much money?”

He was stunned by the words—and by how much she seemed to mean them. Nervously, she glanced up at him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he said. “Stop acting like you don’t belong here.”

“I don’t,” she said, and he was impressed that she didn’t sound cowed when she said it. “You’re the one trying to make me fit into this world.”

“You’re the one who showed up for a job interview,” he reminded her. At that, she opened her mouth to reply and then closed it with an audible snap. “There. We agree. You want the job and I’m giving it to you.” He shoved the contract across the desk.

She reached for it, and he continued, “It’s the standard contract, details on the benefit plan, bonus schedule and nondisclosure agreement. You’re more than welcome to take it home and look it over. If you decide to accept the job, I’d like you to start next week. But Sofia?” She looked up at him again, the contract in her hand. “You’re going to accept the job.”

He braced for the worst—another panic attack—but it didn’t happen. Instead, her brows furrowed and she twisted her lips. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

“Of course not. I never lose arguments when I happen to be right.”

“What are you going to tell your parents?”

He blinked once, then again. Of all the things she might have said—that wasn’t what he’d expected. “I don’t know that I need to tell them anything.” Except that was a hedge and he knew it.

Because he wanted to know why his mother hadn’t kept him up-to-date on what Sofia was doing and there was no way he could ask without revealing that Sofia now worked for him.

“I assume your parents know where you are?” he asked.

“They do.” She dropped her gaze back to the contract and flipped the page. “They were worried.”

“About?” Suddenly, he found himself hoping the Cortés family hadn’t followed all the headlines—his abandonment on his wedding day or the subsequent re-sowing of his wild oats afterward.

“They want to see me succeed but...well, they knew this job was a stretch for me. I don’t have the experience.” She looked up at him and he saw the truth in her eyes. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this,” she went on in a rush. “Because the truth is that we’re not friends anymore. We’re old acquaintances who only knew each other because my parents worked for yours. Now you’re my boss and I shouldn’t be telling you about my family’s hopes or that I suffered debilitating panic attacks after my husband died. You’re not supposed to know these things about me.”

She was almost shouting at him. The force of her emotion pushed him back in his chair.

“Oh, God,” she said, slumping down. “And I definitely shouldn’t be yelling at you. I couldn’t be screwing this up more if I tried, could I?”

If it were anyone else, he’d agree. He’d show her the door and count himself lucky to have dodged a bullet.

So why wasn’t he doing that right now?

When was the last time anyone had put him in his place? No one—with the obvious exception of his parents—talked to him like this. They all minced around him like he was a volatile chemical and they were afraid of the reaction he’d spark. Even Marcus Warren—who had no trouble telling anyone what he thought about anything—had been pulling his punches with Eric.

Sofia telling him off should have been infuriating. But...

All he could think about was how he’d missed her. And how he hoped she’d missed him, too. “You need a friend.”

She looked at him, her eyes suspiciously shiny and a quirky smile on her face. “Maybe you do, too.” Abruptly, she stood, grabbing her handbag and clutching the contract to her chest. “I’m going to take this job because you’re right, I need it. But I won’t be your object of pity. You don’t owe me a larger salary. You don’t owe me any special perks. I’m your employee. Try to remember that.”

That was, hands down, one of the most effective set-downs he’d ever received in his life. It was so good that all he could do was smile as she walked out of the office.

* * *

“Mama!” Two small voices cried in unison when Sofia came through the door that evening. She still felt that she was moving in a daze but at least here, in the sanctuary of her parents’ house, with her two children launching themselves at her, everything still felt the same.

“Babies!” she cried back, just like she did every time she had to be away from them. She opened her arms as they flung themselves at her, almost knocking her off balance in her heeled shoes. “Were you good for Abuelita today?” she asked over their heads as her mother slowly climbed to her feet from where she’d been sitting on the floor.

“Fine, fine,” Mom said, waving away this concern. “How about you? You got the job?” Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she added, “Did he remember you?”

Sofia staggered over to the couch that was possibly older than she was with the children squirming in her arms, collapsing in a heap of happy baby sounds. Addy curled up in her lap and began humming contentedly while Eddy slid down and toddled over to a small set of table and chairs, where he picked up a piece of paper he’d made some very colorful lines on. He showed it to her proudly.

“Oh,” Sofia said, touching the picture. “So pretty.” Eddy began to chatter about whatever it was he’d drawn. She grinned. The twins weren’t quite talking yet, but they sure had a lot to say.

As expected, Addy took all this attention for Eddy as a direct challenge to her artistic merits. She went to get her drawing, too. The twins were always competing like this and only occasionally did it result in tears.

After she had also complimented Addy’s colorful lines, she leaned back, settling into the ancient cushions of the couch while the twins started coloring again. Even when her father had started selling houses and they’d moved into this small ranch home, the Cortéses hadn’t wasted any money on new furniture.

Even though they were now respectably middle class, they still lived carefully and those were lessons Sofia had a hard time unlearning. It’d taken a long time to get used to the way David would decide he wanted a new phone or a new computer and just go buy it. Almost all of their fights had been about money. She’d never felt comfortable spending it but he couldn’t understand why she didn’t want a few nice things.

If anything, Eric was a million times worse than David ever could have been. The craziest thing David had ever done with money—besides spending five thousand dollars on her engagement ring—had been buying a brand-new, top-of-the-line flat screen television that took up a huge chunk of wall in their living room. But that had only been seven thousand dollars.

Eric was throwing an extra fifty thousand dollars at her. Truly, he was being an idiot about it. But wasn’t she being an idiot to try to give that cash back? It wasn’t like she couldn’t use the money. The life insurance money had run out and she’d moved back in with her parents because, well, she’d been in the grips of depression and the mother of two newborns. But it’d also been to save money.

She sighed. Eric was right. Fifty thousand was a year to her. To him, it couldn’t be more than fifteen minutes of one day. And she had shown up for the job interview hoping that the Jenner kindness would help her get back on her feet. She was in no position to refuse that kindness.

Her mother appeared with a glass of lemonade and a worried smile on her face. “Well?”

“He remembered me. And I got the job.” She took the lemonade and drank deeply. “He’s paying me too much money.”

At this, Mom smiled. “The Jenners—they always pay too much. They’re very generous people.”

Sofia looked up at her mother. Rosa Cortés had worked her entire life to take care of Sofia. But it wasn’t until Sofia had unexpectedly become a widow with two infants that she had appreciated how her mother always kept her head up and hope in her heart.

Mom had given her everything. It was time for Sofia to return the favor. “Listen, I’m going to start paying you to watch the kids. And hire someone to help out.”

Her mother’s eyes got wide and then immediately narrowed. Sofia braced herself. “You’ll do no such thing,” she snapped. “I love spending the day with my nietos. It’s not a job.”

“Yes, I will.” Sofia was almost too tired to argue—but this was important. “You quit your job at the brokerage to stay home with us. You’ve kept me going more times than I can count. You’ve always taken care of me, Mom. Let me take care of you, too.”

Her mother shook her head and stamped her foot, which was a show of temper for her. Rosa was so mild mannered as to be meek.

“Fine,” Sofia said, knowing further debate would only make Mom dig in her heels even more. “I’ll put the money in a retirement account for you. And I will hire someone to help out. That’s nonnegotiable. You know Dad’s going to be on my side about this.”

Although he would never want to hurt Mom’s feelings by suggesting she couldn’t do everything, Dad had privately told Sofia he worried the twins might be too much for Mom.

Her mother looked like she was going to argue but just then, Addy flung her crayons to the side and stared at Sofia’s glass, moving her hands in the way that meant she wanted some, too. Not to be outdone, Eddy plopped his bottom down on the rug and began to fuss. Mom clucked softly. “Oh, now—you two, it’s time to wash our hands and have a snack.” She picked up Eddy and Addy toddled along behind, the mention of a snack suddenly the most important thing in the world.

Sofia grinned after her babies. She had pictures of David at that age and Eddy, especially, was going to look a lot like his father. Addy’s hair was a little darker, her face a little more round—just like Sofia’s had been.

She sank back into the old couch, grateful for the moment of silence. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe that’s all there was to this insane salary. Eric was just being generous. Maybe it had nothing to do with her at all. To a guy like him, a Jenner, money was the easy, obvious solution. It would never run out.

It didn’t feel like that, though. If anything, it felt...dangerous. More than just the way he’d talked her down from the panic attack, more than the heated way he looked at her whenever she pushed back against his dictates. Those things were bad enough, but easy to dismiss as old friends catching up or him flirting with her just like he flirted with everyone else.

No, what was dangerous to Sofia’s mental well-being was the way he had matter-of-factly stated that he could somehow keep her safe.

It had been a sweet thing to say, but Sofia had recognized something else in his eyes when he said it, something lost. He had been left at the altar. Had he loved his ex-fiancée? Had his whole world changed in that one single moment and he still wasn’t sure who he’d become in the aftermath?

How far had he fallen before he’d picked himself back up?

She shook her head. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t be that friend for him, not like in the old days. She was a professional. And besides, she didn’t have much of a heart left to be broken.

“What am I supposed to do, David?” she whispered in the quiet of the room. She got no answer, but she wasn’t expecting one.

She had the job. She could take care of her outstanding bills, hire some help for her mom and start moving past living just one day at a time. And she could do all that without getting entangled in Eric’s life again. She’d keep a tight handle on any behavior that might be construed as unprofessional, too. No more panic attacks—at least not in public. No more telling him she wasn’t qualified for the job. She didn’t belong in his world, but she could fake it until she made it.

The job was hers. She would do it for her children and her parents.

But most of all, she would do the job for herself. She needed the work and the salary.

She just had to remember that she didn’t need Eric.


Five (#u1834f51f-193b-5ab9-b731-81137975f699)

“Darling!” Elise Jenner said from behind her desk in her office in the mansion. Dad’s was connected to hers with a door, but they kept it firmly shut. Mom lived in mortal terror that John Jenner’s clutter would spread like a contagion through the house.

His mother’s office was best described as Louis XVI run amok. Rococo flourishes, gilt trim and pink upholstery made the place almost blinding to look at. Everything about Elise Jenner was overdone. Eric might not decorate with gold leaf, but his buildings had been described as over-the-top on more than one occasion. At least he came by it honestly.

“We weren’t expecting you tonight.” She studied him as he kicked off his shoes before stepping on the Persian rug. That had been a rule in this house for as long as he could remember. “What’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Sofia Cortés got married? Or widowed? Or had twins?”

His mother looked at him, surprised. “Why, dear—I didn’t think you remembered her. You never asked about her.” She sat back, looking perturbed. “What brought this on?”

“How could I forget her?” he replied, avoiding this second question. “She was practically my best friend when we were kids. Something I recall you encouraging,” he added.

Elise tilted her head and stared at him. For all of her love of extravagant interior design, the woman wasn’t soft. She cultivated a flamboyant image and then used it ruthlessly to her advantage. “What happened today, dear?”





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