Return Of Billionaire Baby Mama

Gerald Pov

The pattering sounds of rain on the restaurant's glass windows kept me company while I waited for her.

The sound was becoming increasingly unsettling, bringing back memories as I gazed out the window, far out into the outer area, observing the dark night that appeared to have been miraculously lit by the porch lights that stood out.

My fingers pounded on the circular table as I glanced out the window, wondering why Caroline had decided to meet me here at this hour.

We'd been dating for about two years, and she knew I'd rather meet with her at my house or workplace than in a public setting like this.

I carefully pulled at my neck tie, realising that it had been choking me for the past 10 minutes as I sat here gulping saliva just to get by.

The waitress with the tag name "Celeste" approaches me for the second time since I entered, a large inescapable smile forming across her thin lips.

"Would you like to order now, sir?" She asks gently.

I returned her grin before responding, "No thanks, I'm actually waiting for someone." I knew I should have informed her I was waiting for someone when she initially asked, rather than the 'no, I'm fine' response I gave her earlier.

I noted her disappointed expression as her lips curled into a surprised 'Oh', her smile slipping down her lips before she immediately brought them back and gave me a beautiful smile.

"Okay, sir," she said with a little bow of her head before turning around and leaving. I refocused my sight on the table, debating whether to finally browse through the menu.

I had no idea why I was excited this evening. It was customary to go out to dine with your girlfriend, but it took on a different meaning when she called you in the middle of the night and asked you to meet her at some odd restaurant.

That was not Caroline at all. She was usually straightforward and startling.

Just as Celeste's thudding heels faded away from the room, I heard another familiar shoe clicking from up ahead.

It was difficult to miss that sound; I could recognise those footfalls anywhere, at any time. I slowly looked up to see her standing at the restaurant's glass doors, one hand pushing the door closed and the other clutching her purse tightly in front of her.

She looked lovely, and I couldn't take my gaze away from her. The red gown she wore highlighted her body curves in the ideal places, with her cleavage on full display as the long V-neckline of her dress stood out.

Her lips are covered in vivid red lipstick, and her eyelashes are thick with black mascara.

Her blond hair is styled such that the right side falls over her right eye in a wavy manner, with the ends reaching her slender, pointed shoulders.

Caroline was always a fashionable woman when we started dating, and I never had any issues with her dress or makeup choices.

She could dress up in a bra and underwear and stroll into an estate mall, and I'd still love her. She looked across the room, attempting to pick me out, and when her eyes met mine, I couldn't help but see the despair in them.

She moves quickly towards our table, her hand reaching up to smooth back her falling hair as she closes in on me.

She pulls back a chair before I can even jump up and retrieve it for her, her gaze directed away from me. I knew right away that something was awry.

Caroline has always enjoyed receiving attention, particularly from her partner in public places. I couldn't quite grasp why she was acting so strangely tonight.

"Hey," I said anxiously, "are you okay?" She finally glances up at me and smiles before nodding her head and saying, "Yeah." I nodded gently before sitting back into my chair and inhaling softly.

"What would you like to have?" I asked, intending to call the waitress over.

"Don't, Gerald," she adds, holding up her hand. "I. . . . . I actually came here to tell you something important"

The moment the words left her mouth, I felt like I'd been hit by a space brick. Was she going to break up with me? Tell me she can't do it anymore because I don't meet her ideal boyfriend profile? She had flown to Chicago just three weeks before for a business meeting. She had been OK the night before she went, as had we.

I still couldn't get the unending love making we had that night before she went away the next morning out of my head.

We made love as if it were our first and last. I stared into her eyes and told her how much I loved her, and she responded.

She had returned from Chicago yesterday evening, and I only found out when she called and requested us to meet at this restaurant.

She had told me she just wanted to see me. I was wondering what was so urgent that she couldn't wait to come by the office or my house today and had to pull me down here.

I tried to slow down my thoughts. Maybe she just had a rough day and wasn't up for tiny formals, and she'd rather I ordered for her. I knew what she preferred.

"Okay," I said, my lips lined, "how was your business trip?"

"I'm pregnant, Gerald," she explained.

The words flowed naturally from her mouth, but there was more to them as I studied her huge ocean blue eyes.

The words had an effect on me, instilling a terror in me that I could not recall ever experiencing before.

It wasn't a negative fear; it was a nice one since I felt great. I attempted to speak but couldn't; nothing appeared to make sense.

So my gaze wandered down her flat stomach, lingering, as if hoping to spot some little movement there; movement of my unborn child.

A smile spread across my lips as my gaze returned to hers and settled there. This was the best news I had ever received in my life.

Everything was perfect. I knew Caroline was the professional type of woman, which was one of the reasons I hadn't had the courage to propose to her before, but this seemed to come at the perfect time!

"Oh my God, Caroline, are you sure?" I asked joyfully, but when I saw how she arched her eyebrows in question, I knew it wasn't the finest thing to say.

I hastily shook my head, attempting to rectify myself. "I mean, I'm so thrilled! This is the best.... "

"We can't keep it, Gerald," she stops me off, her words hitting me across the face and causing my smile to fade.

"I just can't keep it" " What? Why? I mean, we've been together for about two years, and... I closed my eyes as I lost sight of words and shuffled in my chair.

"We should get married, Caroline."

" No! " Her explosion astonished me, and I rapidly attempted to understand her actions. Didn't she want us to marry?

The nasty sight in her eyes left me dumbfounded. How could I be so soft for this woman that she dared to disobey my orders? This was my baby legally, and I had the same rights to it as she had.

It may have been unplanned, but it is certainly worth altering everything for.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this right now. I can't be a mother right now. I'm doing so many things, and.... "

"Your career, huh?," I stopped her off. "Your job and everything right? When will anything else ever matter to you? This baby is growing in your stomach, for example."

"You wouldn't understand this, Gerald, you never have"

"Could you please do this for me?" Just this once, okay? Listen, we can make this work; all we need to do is marry.

"I'm not going to tie my life down for some baby, okay? I'm getting rid of the baby, with or without your agreement." She pulls her chair aside, attempting to rise up.

"I'm leaving the country"

"Caroline. . ." Before I could say her name, she was already at the door, wrenching it open and racing out.

I felt rage pour over me as I sat still. Why was I doing nothing to stop her? I knew Caroline better than I knew myself. She would do everything she set her mind to, and nobody could stop her.

Not even God, if he were to descend from above.

Angrily, I sprang to my feet and dashed out. But the coast was clear of her. She was gone. She was going to abort my baby, and I wasn't doing anything to stop it.

I knew people all across the country and could easily get her back here before she boarded one of her private flights, but I knew it would be a waste of time. She'd still do it.

I stepped into my car, and my driver sped away towards my mansion. As we approached my house, I realised I was being stupid.

I was the cold-hearted monster everyone feared when they saw me; how could I subject myself to a simple woman's trickery? I frowned and told myself I didn't care what she did with the baby.

It was her blasted body, and she could use as many needles as she wanted to get rid of the baby. I didn't care.

And I hoped she died from it because I never wanted to see her face again. I got home and sought to distract myself with work in my office space, attempting to forget about my unborn child.

I slept abnormally and awoke with a severe headache.

I remained up longer than usual at work, trying hard to ignore Caroline's name flashing across the screen of my phone every time I tried to call her.

But I never do. I always pushed my phone away and invited my best friend Carlos Williams out for a drink instead. She never called, and as the months passed, I lost interest in hope.

I hoped she'd be on my doorstep one day with her burgeoning baby bump. I was hoping she'd tell me it was all a prank and that she'd love to marry and have a baby together.

But she did appear in my sitting room one morning as I was flying down the stairs, her makeup in place, her eyes gleaming deliciously, her hair properly done, and her clothing clinging to the right curves.

She had not changed at all. I tried not to make it clear that I was inspecting her tummy for a pregnancy bump.

She raises her hand and waves a five at me, her grin bright and beautiful, saying, "It's good to see you again, Gerald."

Gerald

I thought I'd be happy to see her, but I wasn't. I was able to check her stomach without her noticing, and there was no indication of a lump.

She did get rid of it, however. "It's good to see you again, Gerald," she says, her voice steady and her grin stoic. I decided to play along and give her one of my amused smiles.

"Look who fell from the skies," I exclaimed as I walked downstairs, my chest naked.

I was just waking up, still dressed in the ash sweatpants I'd worn to bed the night before after a long day of work in my office. I never stop working.

"I'm glad you're still very welcoming," she spat out before I could reach the floor.

"I'm surprised you still haven't changed your lock"

"Ah, did you let yourself in for too long while waiting for me? Why didn't you come upstairs?"

"I didn't want to wake you up, Gerald. Besides, I just got in."

"Where have you gone this time? "Paris or Berlin?" I observed the smile that slowly spread across her lips before she replied, "Morocco." That is where I went this time. Why are you so concerned?"

"It's not a major problem, Caroline. You know I've always been the one that cares about your location.

"So it's not about your unborn baby?"

The smile I had been pretending to wear went instantaneously, and I decided I was not going to play this dirty game any longer.

"Why are you here, Caroline?" I asked plain forwardly.

"I just came to see you Gerald and. . . . . ."

"There's no reason for you to see me from now on, Caroline"

"I think there is," she says with a mischievous smirk tucked at the corners of her lips. I started my mouth to respond, but stopped as she raised her hand and snapped two fingers, as if calling on someone.

A tall young woman walked in, wearing some thick garments over her chest, her arms tightly wrapped over it.

It looked just like how a lady would carry a kid, but I didn't totally comprehend until she entered the room and I could see everything properly.

I noticed a baby's head among all the heavy cloth wrappings. The baby wasn't completely new because it could raise its head and stare at me, its face searching mine as his lips folded up, as babies always do.

My heart stopped pounding the moment I saw this, only to chose another event right away. She didn't abort the baby? She had a baby but kept it away from me?

My gaze shifted from the baby to the black-haired woman before returning to Caroline.

This woman was simply unbelievable. She would do anything, including the most terrible things. Was it a year since we last saw each other at that restaurant? I'd entirely forgotten about her and didn't realise how quickly time passed.

She smiled at me and said, "I couldn't do it, Gerald; I couldn't get rid of it. I suppose I still have a heart, huh? But do you know what I can't do right now? A mother. That is why I brought you this baby."

I just stood there, stunned and looked at her, speechless for the first time in my life.

"I'm sorry, Gerald; I'm not ready to be devoted to one man, which is why I can't consent to this marriage. I have a lot of work to accomplish before I go, and I'll be flying directly to France. I just received a business proposal, and it's substantial this time."

She goes to the other woman, carefully takes the baby from her, and begins heading towards me.

When she got close enough, I could see the baby's face in greater detail.

I could not distinguish whether it was a boy or a girl. It had large hazel eyes like mine, little and heavy lips in a gorgeous style, and pale Expresso blond hair on its head.

The skin was as pale as Caroline's. But it was gorgeous.

"This is your kid, Gerald. I don't have a name for him yet, so you can do that," she replied, dropping him into my arms. I craddled him hard against my chest to keep him from falling.

This was my first time carrying a baby, which terrified me, but I surprised myself by doing an excellent job.

"This is his Nanny," she continued, pointing to the black-haired woman again.

"She's going to stay and help care for him." I know you don't know anything about babies. My gaze shifted to the other woman, who smiled at me. It irritated me.

"No," I said as Caroline started rushing for the door. "I think you should go together, I can take care of my son."

Caroline comes to a halt, places her hand on the door, and smiles at me before opening it.

"Caroline?" I called, and she stopped. "Don't come back," I told her. She shrugs her shoulders and walks out, with the other woman following behind her.

I looked through the glass walls of my home and saw Caroline walk to her car, get in with the Nanny, and drive away.

I returned my attention to the infant in my arms and felt a weird draw towards him. I expected to be angry at this gorgeous tiny thing, but I wasn't.

If anything, I wanted to make him happy. I wanted to do everything for him. But I wasn't sure what I was meant to do. I hugged him harder and decided to phone the only person I was close to.

My best pal is Carlos. I dialled his number, and after a long ring, he answered.

"What's up bro?" He spoke, his voice indicating that he was still waking up.

"Hey I need you at my house right now, Carl, I have a bit of an emergency"

"Emergency?" I could hear the ruffling of his bed sheets as he sat up. "You're not coming to the office today?"

"I doubt it. Just get here, please." I ended the conversation before he could say anything else.

Flipping my phone on the white lounge, I took cautious, careful steps up the steep stairs so as not to disturb the baby.

As soon as I started up the stairs, I realised I should have taken the lift up to my room to avoid bothering the baby. But it was too late to turn back; I was already halfway there.

When I reached my room and hit the auto opening button, the doors slid apart, allowing me to enter.

"Welcome into my room, kid," I said him, surprising myself. I was amazed when I heard him coo, and I wondered whether he had just responded to what I had said.

Was he pleased to be here? Was he telling me he missed his mother? I doubt he would; she probably hasn't had time for him since he was born. I paused before the mirror and turned to face it.

I noticed the baby's reflection as he looked away into the room. I had no idea what I was doing or why I had accepted the baby in the first place.

I had no idea how to raise a baby. Neither did Carlos. He was a fucking bachelor-a dumb one.

Fortunately, one of his whores has not pinned a baby on him. I rubbed my face, annoyed. Just then, the infant began sobbing. I went into a panic.

What was I supposed to do now? Caroline did not leave anything for him, no food, nothing. How was I expected to know what he's eating now? This is totally messed up.

I spent the next ten minutes racing around the room, trying to get him to stop weeping, but things just grew worse. I then went downstairs to find him something palatable in the kitchen.

I tried to locate him some milk as soon as I opened the refrigerator, with one hand still securely gripping the baby who was beginning to calm down.

Just then, I heard the door open and Carlo yell my name. "I'm in here!" I yelled back.

"You? In the kitchen? You had a woman in there or something?" He says this as he enters into the kitchen, pausing when he notices the infant in my hand.

"Larry, what are you doing with that baby? Whose baby is that?!"

"He's my baby, Carl," I responded simply. He didn't say anything for a time and simply looked at me.

"Caroline?" He enquires, amazement in his eyes and voice.

I nodded, "She appeared this morning with the baby. She said she wasn't ready to be devoted to a man in the name of marriage and couldn't be a mother yet.

"That girl's crazy, Larry, I always told you that" I looked down, remembering how Carlos never liked her and would constantly tell me she was only wanting my money.

I had always dismissed that saying since I knew Caroline better than anyone else. She enjoyed working for herself and not being dependant on anyone. And that was the issue.

"Are you planning on keeping him?" Carlos enquired, and I gave him a murderous gaze.

"He's my son," I growled.

"Look I know but how are you going to take care of him?"

"I'll get him a nanny"

"A nanny? Of course not, Larry. You want him to grow up knowing another lady instead of you? You know what? I think we can take care of this, you and I; we'll do a good job."

I gazed at him as if he had just stated the most ludicrous thing I'd ever heard, and I was correct. He just said the stupidest thing ever.

How could he expect me to care for him while still working?

"What's his name?" I decided to put all of these ideas aside and find him something to eat first.

" He has no name yet, but I will give him one. What do babies eat?"

Carlos pauses to study me for a moment, and quietly falls.

Fucked up moron.

"How am I supposed to know that?" He spoke defensively.

"Forget it. Let's go to the baby store', I said to him before turning towards the lift. Carlos joined me, and we both went to my bedroom.

I quickly freshened up while Carlos looked after the baby. I suited up and took us to the baby store. I'd never been in this store before, and I was seeing things that seemed foreign to me.

I spoke with the lady behind the counter, and she was happy to assist me with the infant formula. She offered to help feed him, but I said it was fine.

When she enquired what his name was, I was shocked and simply gazed at him. Before introducing him to the public, I should have given him a name.

I was taken back for a second and spoke the first name that sprang to me.

" Larry," I responded with a huge smile. "His name is Larry." I knew I could modify it later, but he already had my name.

Tiffany

I sat with my legs sprawled on my old couch in my small, cramped flat sitting room, looking at the paper in front of me.

I continued to stare at the list I had made with my own hands last week. I made a list of things I needed to buy for my sister and myself, and after a week, I had only completed one of the twelve.

I lean back on the couch with a grimace on my face, stroking a palm over my face in frustration.

How in the hell did life get this bad? At twenty-four, I still fought to make ends meet, pay my sister's tuition, pay for this goddamned old flat, put food on the table and occasionally get myself what I needed.

Jobs did not always come easily in Los Angeles. After my parents died while I was only eighteen years old and my sister was fourteen, I had to drop out of college in my first year.

My life altered after I was admitted to New York University. Everything about it. When I closed my eyes, I saw everything happen again in front of my eyes.

I could see my mother's body being taken from under that horrible car in the middle of the road, blood splashed everywhere and a couple leaking out on the ground.

My father was still trapped someplace beneath our burning estate car.

When one of my friends called me to come to an accident scene, I couldn't believe what I saw.

I wanted to tell her that I was studying in the nearby library, but she was just going to tell me that I took everything too seriously, that exams weren't even close yet, and that I should 'chillax', so I closed the book and raced out of the library.

Only I didn't realise the crash victims were my parents. I recall my name being called and my head spinning.

The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital and frantically asking for my parents. My sister Amila was crying.

The physicians informed me that my parents had passed away, despite their best efforts. I felt bewildered for the first time in my life.

I wasn't sure how to feel. I felt broken, but I could only image what Amila was going through. She was still so young, and she did not deserve something as horrible as this.

I wasn't working at the time and needed to take care of Amila and myself.

Our parents did not work for the government, thus there was no sympathy money for bereaved children.

We had never had a home, and it quickly dawned on me that I needed to pay for the flat or we'd be sleeping on the streets the following year.

I remember waking up that night and seeing Amila sleeping beside me, and I knew right away that I needed to step up and take action.

Amila was in her second year of high school, and someone needed to do something for the family, to keep everything together.

We had no family members I could call, and almost no one on our side. It was just us against the world, and that sensation stayed with me for years.

I never wanted to leave Amila behind; I wanted to be there for her anytime she needed me. I always had my own back, and that was enough for me.

For the next two weeks, I missed a handful of classes and looked for work. The first job I had was posting flyers for a terrible musical band.

They were a group of teenage street scumbags who aspired to be famous musicians and frequently held musical band parties in the city's filthy, dark alleyways.

The remuneration was insufficient; it barely covered the basics. All of my earnings went towards two things: food and Amila's education costs.

I needed more before the end of the month. So I began looking for a better-paying job.

I must have been naive and desperate the night I stopped in front of the dimly illuminated stripper club, where a statue of a naked lady flashed in neon lights against a dancing pole on the building's front roof.

I knew this was the only job that paid so well in Los Angeles. I would have enough money in two months if I walked in and signed up to be a stripper.

But I paused before I could make my initial move inside the club because a sequence of thoughts entered my mind.

One: I was definitely too young for this type of employment and would just stroll in to disgrace myself.

Two: I was still virgin. How was I meant to work there as a virgin?

Three: I was not prepared for a life like this. I needed money, but I knew I wasn't made out for it.

Before I knew it, I was heading back through the darkness. That's when I noticed the vacancy sign posted in front of a restaurant.

I couldn't be more grateful to have stumbled across this. I hurried in and told them I needed the job.

*

Three days later, after completing the appropriate application procedures, I was working as a waitress in a modest restaurant.

The labour was difficult, but the income was higher than posting posters for two different bands.

Every day, before leaving home, I would serve customers and scrub the sink.

After one week, everything began to weigh on me, but I refused to give up. I would be used to it.

After one week of working there, I realised I couldn't keep up with school while also working the manner I needed to, so I considered dropping out.

I didn't have much to lose, and there was always enough time for that. After all, I was still extremely young.

My best friend, Laurene, was concerned because I was constantly missing courses while working morning shifts at the restaurant.

I wasn't sure if I should tell her I was leaving school right then. A month later, after writing my examinations, I was able to stay put for the second semester and complete year one of college.

That's when I decided to draw the straw.

I opted to focus on my profession and getting Amila through school.

That was all I cared about; I'd think about myself later.

After a year of working for the tiny restaurant, I realised that the pay wasn't really good.

The money only covered present necessities, not future bills. So I started seeking for new jobs. I saw a job opening for a barman in a high-end casino downtown, and after speaking with the management, the pay seemed extremely acceptable to me.

Two times as much as the restaurant paid me. The place was rough, but I didn't mind. I'd handle it later. Amila was about to graduate from high school, and I needed to start saving for her university.

I was not going to let her drop out like me. After a few days, my application was accepted, and I began working there gladly. Until a month ago, when everything went wrong.

I always worked as a barman at the casino, which was full of filthy rich men who didn't know what else to do with their money except gamble it away and call it a lifestyle.

I was always relieved that I wasn't working as a call girl or hooker, who loitered around playing games with these men and served as their 'lucky charms', and I was more than happy with that.

Then, one fateful evening, my manager, Hardin McAllen, began flirting with me and squeezing my buttocks whenever he called me out to carry drinks to his'special visitors'.

I knew from the moment I started working at his casino that he would always stare lustfully at me and throw amorous grins and jokes at me.

But that night, he decided that two years of patience had been enough.

I remember telling him at the end of my shift, "I really didn't like what you did out there, Hardin." And he responded with a haughty

"What are you talking about, beautiful?" I scowled harder before responding, "grabbing me like that."

"Dude, what's wrong with that?," he asked, his arms splayed apart as he inserted a cigarette into his lips.

"Stop acting like a fucking holy Mary, Tiffany," he continued harshly.

The following day, he absolutely disregarded me, making me feel worse about myself, which was terrible.

But I couldn't leave the job, no matter how uncomfortable it made me. That's not to add the perverts who winked at me multiple times and invited me to sleep with them in their opulent hotels when they left.

Some provided their phone numbers, while others did not. I always turned them all down. I just wasn't interested in that kind of lifestyle. I knew most girls in my situation would jump at the chance.

The money each man would spend for a hookup with them would most likely be considerably more than I earned as a barman in a month.

So, why not? After a long period of staring at the infinite list in my palm, I leaned back in my chair and let out a deep sigh.

Amila was already out and attending school. I began working the night shift today, so I was able to get some decent, quality sleep. I awoke at 9:54 a.m. today.

The first thing that came to mind was Amila's college fees. I was meant to roll it over next month, but I hadn't even saved anything yet.

I couldn't wait for my compensation from the Club, which arrived a week after her tuition payment was due.

I was just confused. I started looking for other shifting jobs that would pay me two incomes in one month, but it was proving to be more difficult than I anticipated.

I was always at home when my shifts ended, which I know is a good thing because it allows me to spend more time with my sister and best friend, but I need more money than those difficult periods.

Throwing the paper far across the couch, I made a mental reminder to go grocery shopping today before Amila returned.

Just then, I heard a ring on my door, and as eerie as it felt, the bell seemed to scream in an urgent tone.

Just as it rang, my door swung wide, displaying my best friend, Laurene Billy, standing out with a big grin on her lips and sparkling eyes on me.

"I've got some good news for you, Tiffy!!!" She screamed joyfully.