Page 46 of Billionaire's Secret Baby

“Do you have any family?” I said.

Alex thought about it.

“A couple of uncles,” he said. “They’re out in California. We don’t talk much. A few years ago, one of them wrote me asking for money.”

“What did you say?”

“I sent him a check for a million dollars and told him either he could cash it, or contact me again. But not both.”

“What?”

“None of them ever cared about me when I was poor,” said Alex. “Why should they care about me now that I’m rich?”

He had a point. But when Alex showed me into his room, I was amazed.

It was like a whole other apartment. A private TV room, with a home entertainment system was on the ground floor. A staircase led up to an enormous bedroom, with wide oak rafter and beams. Alex’s bed was the biggest I’d ever seen, and when I got to the bathroom, I squealed.

“Gold taps!” I gasped. “Gold. Taps.”

“What about ‘em?” said Alex. “I hate them myself, but for some reason, the decorator insisted.”

“We, uh,” I said, “we have this joke at work. That you’re so rich you have gold bath taps.”

“Well now you can tell all your co-workers what a pompous ass I really am.”

“Oh you,” I said. “I’d never say a bad word about you.”

“That’s not true,” said Alex, smiling. He sat down on the bed. My heart was glowing. Despite the enormous size and the grandeur of Alex’s penthouse palace, it was roomy, and here, in his inner sanctum, comfortable.

He sat down on the bed, and I sat next to him.

"What are the restaurant staff saying about all this?” he said.

“Why do you care?” I said. “Aren’t you always saying you don’t care about what other people think?”

“The Blue Orchid’sdifferent,” he replied.

“Some of them think there’s no way you’d ever do a thing like this,” I said.

“And the rest?”

I shrugged. “Some of them think you did it.”

“Sure. Them and everyone else in New York. What do you think?”

“That there’s no way you’d do something like this. You’re too nice. And you’ve worked too hard to risk it all.”

“I don’t want to lose all this, Lola,” he said quietly.

It was the first time the great Alex Lowe had shown me a hint of vulnerability. A moment of weakness. I felt privileged. And a little strange, too. Why did he trust me with that vulnerability? A woman who’d hurt him only a few days ago?

“You’re not going to,” I said. “Me and Zeke, and Jeff, your lawyer. And Andy and everyone who works atThe Blue Orchid. We’re with you.”

Alex looked at me. “You think?” he said.

“Yeah. And we’re counting on you.”

“There is one thing I can be happy about.”

---