Big Bossy Surprise

Big Bossy Surprise AN ACCIDENTAL PREGNANCY ROMANCE MANHATTAN BILLIONAIRES BOOK FOUR LILIAN MONROE Contents Free Novellas 1. Bonnie 2. Bonnie 3. Arlo 4. Bonnie 5. Arlo 6. Bonnie 7. Bonnie 8. Arlo 9. Bonnie 10. Arlo 11. Bonnie 12. Bonnie 13. Arlo 14. Bonnie 15. Bonnie 16. Arlo 17. Bonnie 18. Arlo 19. Bonnie 20. Bonnie 21. Arlo 22. Bonnie 23. Arlo 24. Bonnie 25. Arlo 26. Bonnie 27. Bonnie 28. Arlo 29. Bonnie 30. Arlo 31. Bonnie 32. Arlo 33. Bonnie 34. Arlo 35. Bonnie 36. Bonnie 37. Arlo 38. Bonnie Epilogue Bad Prince 1. Elle Also by Lilian Monroe Copyright © 2023 Method and Madness Publishing PTY LTD All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission from the author except for short quotations used for the purpose of reviews. Resemblance to actual persons, things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Ebook ISBN: 978-1-922986-24-5 1st Edition 2023 Published by Method and Madness Publishing PTY LTD PO Box 186 Subiaco, WA, Australia, 6008 * * * Cover design by Emily Wittig Cover Photo by Wander Aguilar Editing by Shavonne Clarke at Motif Edits and Paige Kraft at PK Edits * * * want THREE books delivered straight to your inbox? how about three rock star romances that were way too hot to sell? Get the complete Rock Hard series: www.lilianmonroe.com/rockhard * * * CHAPTER 1 Bonnie It’s worse than I thought. And I thought it would be bad. I’m so not ready for this. Craning my neck, I draw my gaze up, up, up the height of the Lusso apartment building. The penthouse sits at the top of the glass-and-steel giant, surveying Central Park and Manhattan from its perch at the pinnacle of the world. My friend Leif’s company designed and built this building a few years ago. I saw pictures of the penthouse when it went up for sale. It’s beyond anything a mere mortal like me would ever gain access to in her puny little lifetime. Until now. My heart thuds. Last time I was in one of these buildings, in an apartment just like the one towering fifteen hundred feet above my head, my career died a horrible, grisly death. My ego did too. Now I’m here. At the very bottom. How fitting. Is it too late to turn around and run away? I touch the bag slung over my shoulder, where my phone lies dormant. My sister would kill me if I flaked on her newest client. Even worse, she’d be disappointed in me. For that matter, so would my bank account. It’s been ten years since I last worked for Linda, and her business has exploded since then. Just look at this building, this client. The Delmar Nanny Agency has a platinum reputation, and that’s due to my sister’s efforts. I can’t let her down—especially not after everything she’s done for me. The doorman nods as I enter through the tall glass doorway, its tinted panes reflecting the bustling street behind me. I step across the threshold and into a different world. Geometric wood shelves separate the lobby into two distinct spaces. A café with bowtie-wearing baristas and hissing espresso machines takes up the far wall, with my side of the partition strewn with plush sofas and intimate conversation nooks. As soon as the door closes behind me, the noise of the outside world disappears, and I know I’ve entered a new realm. A woman in a silk top and camel-colored trousers sips a coffee and flicks the tablet on her lap, oozing wealth from the crown of her shiny hair to the very tip of her red-soled designer shoes. Once upon a time, I lived in a place like this. Well, not like this, but it was this apartment building’s distant, less opulent second cousin twice removed. My home was a beautiful condo, a three-bedroom, three-bathroom paradise that made me feel like I’d made it. But that was before. Now, I know on what shaky a foundation my previous life was built. I know how easy it was for it all to crumble to dust. I should have learned my lesson the first time, shouldn’t I? But I’ve learned it now. I need safety nets for my safety nets. I need to trust no one but myself, and maybe Linda. I need to stand on only two feet: my own. This job will help me do that. Clutching my bag to my side, I make my way to the reception area, give my name, and wait for the woman behind the gleaming black desk to contact the resident of the penthouse. She’s a tall, slim woman with black hair and red, red lips, and she gives me a nod as she hangs up the phone. Her beautifully manicured hand sweeps out in an elegant gesture. “Take the elevator up to the one hundred and twenty-ninth floor. Mr. Noble is expecting you.” “Good thing I’m not afraid of heights,” I quip. The woman gives me a polite smile but doesn’t laugh. My nerves ratchet tighter. A staff member by the elevator swipes his card and presses the number for me, then steps out of the elevator, giving me a short nod before disappearing behind the closing doors. I shoot upward, feeling like Charlie in the Chocolate Factory about to burst through the roof and into space. Floating through the cosmos would be about as comfortable as the penthouse I’m about to step into. The ride up the elevator gives me time to tuck in flyaway hairs as I check myself over in the mirrored doors. I’m wearing a white tee tucked into a calf-length pleated skirt that feels silky beneath my fingertips, my shoulders covered with a cropped leather biker jacket I got at a basement thrift store six years ago. When I left my house, I thought I looked cool and approachable. Now I feel