The Baby (The Boss #5) Read Online Abigail Barnette

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Boss Series by Abigail Barnette
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
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Our housekeeper didn’t usually work on weekends, and I refused to ask her to when I was trying to prove my self-reliance. So, I had Olivia on one hip while I stirred a pot of mac and cheese when the house phone rang.

We so rarely received calls on the landline that it actually startled me. I grabbed the cordless handset from the wall. “Yeah?”

It was the security guard at the end of the main driveway. I couldn’t remember his name, because my brain was like mush. “Ms. Scaife, there’s someone at the gate for you?”

I frowned and moved the pan off the burner, then reached for my iPad to turn down the music. We didn’t tend to get a whole lot of drop ins, considering most of our friends lived in the city. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“It’s a Mr. Ati.” The guy paused. “How would you like us to proceed?”

“Let him come up. Always, by the way.” I thought Neil would have told them that, by now, considering all the time he’d spent here. Then again, El-Mudad rarely came by the front entrance. He usually flew in.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I hung up the phone and looked wildly around the kitchen. I hadn’t exactly been keeping up appearances. Olivia was wearing the same onesie she’d slept in, complete with milk dribbles on it, and my hair was up in a looped ponytail on the top of my head. My yoga pants had a hole on the front of the thigh.

Of course, he would pick today to show up.

“Okay, okay. Don’t panic, but a hot guy is here, and we look awful,” I told Olivia. One of her toys lay on the island, a dopey looking doll with big buttons and crinkly texture parts, but most importantly, a flower-shaped mirror sewed into one hand. I picked it up and tried to be positive, but I didn’t have any makeup on, and my under-eye bags were tragic.

A car engine echoed as it pulled beneath the porte cochere. There wasn’t time to fix anything.

He knocked on the kitchen door, and I went to open it. I was going to be confident and in control of everything, and I would totally not focus on the fact that Neil wasn’t here to be with us.

All of that flew out the window the second I saw El-Mudad standing on the welcome mat. His dark hair was flopped to the side, careless but cool, at the same time. He wore sunglasses and a leather jacket despite the fact that it was frickin’ May, and his full lips parted in a wide smile. “Sophie.”

I burst into tears.

He closed the door behind him and came to my side, lifting Olivia from my arms. “Go. Shower.”

“Well, hello to you, too,” I snapped, but I laughed through my tears, because this was all funny in a tragic comedy kind of way. Usually, when we saw each other, we were Emir and Chloe. Chloe never looked like this. She was always beautiful and wore sexy underwear.

I didn’t even have a bra on.

“Go on. You look exhausted,” he ordered. “I know how to care for a baby. Have a bath, and we’ll still be here when you’re finished.”

“Okay,” I agreed, wiping away my tears. “But, if I’m not back in an hour, come check on me. Make sure I didn’t fall asleep and drown.”

Olivia reached for me, and El-Mudad lifted her up, clucking his tongue and giving her a goofy smile before he zerberted her tummy through her stained onesie. That was all it took to win her over. She giggled with delight and slapped both her hands on either side of his face, and I used the distraction to slip away.

I was totally cool leaving her to be traumatized by abandonment to a stranger. What kind of mother figure did that make me?

One who hadn’t had a spare moment since the nanny had gone on family leave. The shower was waiting, promising me a quick, easy solution to my serious bodily hygiene problem, but my tub.

My beautiful bathtub.

Sometimes, when people talk about lifelong love, they sound like they’re me talking about my bathtub. It’s a gorgeous copper claw-foot with a white porcelain interior that curves over the rim. The bottom is a little scuffed, owing to the fact that it’s an antique, but it just makes me love it more. When I get in it, I feel like Cinderella in the pumpkin coach on the way to the ball.

El-Mudad was a wonderful man, and he wouldn’t begrudge me a little bit of luxury.

I turned on the taps, sinking down as the tub filled.

How had El-Mudad shown up at exactly the perfect time? Guiltily, I realized that I hadn’t let him know what was going on with Neil. So, why had he just shown up?

Maybe he’d come hoping to contact Neil. It would make sense; as far as I knew, Neil had mostly cut himself off from everyone after Emma’s death. El-Mudad had sent a lovely flower arrangement to the funeral, but he hadn’t attended. I’d sent him a thank you card, but apart from that, we hadn’t talked, at all.


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