Sarah Anderson - Twins For The Billionaire

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

“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?”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.