Flirting with my Billionaire Boss: A Blue Mountain Sweet Romantic Comedy

FLIRTING WITH MY BILLIONAIRE BOSS A BLUE MOUNTAIN SWEET ROMANTIC COMEDY CINDY RAY HALE Copyright © 2022 by Cindy Ray Hale All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Cover Design by Cindy Ray Hale Edited by Christina Herrera Created with Vellum CONTENTS 1. Callie 2. Weston 3. Callie 4. Weston 5. Callie 6. Weston 7. Callie 8. Weston 9. Callie 10. Weston 11. Callie 12. Weston 13. Callie 14. Weston 15. Callie 16. Weston Epilogue: Langston About the Author Also by Cindy Ray Hale 1 CALLIE “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say under my breath. I can’t stop staring at the stick I just peed on. Positive. My life is over. How am I supposed to explain this to Markus? My mind is reeling, and I need to stop freaking out so I can think. But my heart is pounding in my ears, and the bathroom stall is getting a little spinny. I brace against the sides to steady myself, and the test falls into the open toilet. I stare at it with my mouth hanging open and cringe as I pull it out. The Atlanta airport bathroom doesn’t seem like the cleanest place in the world. I shake off the toilet water and wipe it down with toilet paper. I don’t think I can ever get my hands fully clean again. I toss the paper in and flush the toilet before opening the stall. Breathe in. Breathe out. Okay. I can do this. Think, Callie. Just think. The only solution is to run. You think I’m kidding. I’m not. This is no joking matter! Markus doesn’t want kids. He’s told me that a million times. I’ve been carrying this stupid test around with me for the past week, and I decide that the best place to pee on it is here? I guess I can just hide it from him. But he’ll figure something is wrong, and then he’ll find a way to get the truth out of me. He always does. Why can’t I slow down my heart? It keeps pounding. I need to take some deep breaths. I’ve had a feeling that I could be pregnant. It would explain why I was feeling queasy on the plane. I don’t usually get airsick. We’re flying back from another trip to Hawaii, and this is our layover. If Markus finds out I’m pregnant, he’ll want me to get an abortion. But I don’t want that. I stare down at the double lines on the test. I want to give this baby a life. There’s no arguing with him. He thinks he’s always right. There would be nothing I could do or say to get him to change his mind about this baby. I’ve been married to the guy for three years. And we dated for five years before that. So I would know. He’s said from the beginning that he doesn’t want kids. So, my only choice is to run. Because I’m having this baby, whether he likes it or not. That’s when I start to cry like a big, giant wuss. I leave the stall, toss the pregnancy test into the trash, and go to wash my hands. I’m sure I look like a disaster because a janitor comes in and gives me a strange look before she starts to empty the trash. She’s short and round with dark skin with long blonde hair. She takes one look at my test and looks at me with her eyes bugging out. “Is this test yours?” “Yes.” “You’re crying. Are you in trouble?” I nod miserably. Then I spill the long, ugly truth to her. “And that’s why I have to get out of here,” I say. “But I don’t know how I’m going to do that without me seeing him.” She starts to untie her smock. “Wear this. And hold the mop in front of your face.” She hands me the smock. “Push my cart. He won’t think to look at a janitor. One more thing.” She takes off her wig and hands it to me. “Put this on.” “Okay.” I twist my dark hair up and put on the wig. Then I tie the smock around me. It’s huge and doesn’t smell great, but I don’t mind. I’m just happy to have someone willing to help me. “What about my carry-on luggage?” “You can hide it on my cart. Just take my cart to the bathrooms at gate B22 and leave the smock there. I’ll come along behind you and get it.” “Why are you helping me?” I ask. “Because I’ve been in your shoes before. I have a few babies of my own.” I peek around the corner, and Markus isn’t in his seat anymore. Where did he go? I don’t have time to look for him. I squeeze the dirty water from the mop and hold it so it obscures my face. It drips a little onto my shoulder. Here goes nothing. I push the janitor's cart through the Atlanta airport with my suitcase hidden next to the trashcan. The real janitor trails behind me, and I head toward the other bathroom. A familiar voice makes me stop in my tracks. It’s Markus. He’s right ahead of me, talking on the phone. “She’s in the bathroom. She can’t hear what I’m saying. I love you, too, darling. I’ll see you when I get back home and I’ve dropped Callie off at the house.” The janitor looks at me with a questioning expression. She’s probably wondering why I’ve stopped. I can’t believe Markus has been cheating on me. That scum! But it doesn’t matter now because I’m leaving and I’m not looking back, even though I want to give him a piece of my mind. I walk away