Second Chance with my Billionaire Baby Daddy

*Lola's POV*

I clutched my chest tightly in an attempt to calm down my racing heart, just as my shaking legs took the remaining nervous steps towards the building.

Cold air breezed past me as I entered the temp agency, spreading goose bumps all over my arms. The blonde receptionist looked up, her eyes narrowing as soon as she took in my appearance.

"Hi. How can I help you, miss?" she asked, her attention returning to the computer in front of her.

I hesitated, trying to find my voice. A surge of anxiety rushed through me and I licked my dry lips, trying to calm myself down.

"Hi. My name is Lola Thomas, and I'm here about the job. I saw your ad in the paper."

I followed her scrutinizing gaze up and down my body. I winced inwardly, knowing that the cheap chiffon top I had paired with my already worn out jeans might disqualify me even before I got started.

I had taken a big leap of faith moving to a new city to start a new life with my five years old son, Max, solely depending on the few dollars I had borrowed from the loan shark. It's been three weeks since I took that step of faith and I have gone to countless interviews without any success. This feels like my last hope.

I don't know if I will get the job, but I am certain that I will lose my mind if I get a no from the blonde receptionist.

"I don't think we have any more positions open," the blonde receptionist said with a dismissive tone.

Here we go. One part of me wanted to scream out my frustrations until the entire building came crashing down around me. But I know that wouldn't help me. Neither would it help poor Max, whose entire existence depended on me, his miserable mother, who couldn't even find a job to save their lives. Literally.

So I swallowed past a lump and said, "Please ma'am. You have to help me. I have a son and losing this opportunity means that my son will starve."

She blinked back at me furiously, "Are you trying to guilt trip me?"

"No. I am only trying to convince you to help a dying sister. Please help me out."

I clutched my hands together in a prayer mood and awaited her response. The deep disgust masking her face made me suspect that all hope was lost for me. I would end up being kicked out of the shabby apartment next week. And in turn, I would have no other choice than to return to my family home where both my parents resent me and my sister hates me. The loan shark wouldn't hesitate before tearing me into pieces.

"Fine."

My eyes widened at her response. She went ahead and handed me a complimentary card containing a name and an address.

"Go to that address. The psycho artist has been looking for a personal assistant for weeks but kept rejecting everyone we sent his way. Maybe you both would be a match made in heaven."

I read through the words written boldly on the card with grateful eyes.

"Lucas Blackwood? No way in hell," I muttered.

"Is there a problem?"

"No. Of course not. Thank you so much." I flashed her a fake smile before rushing out of the building.

There is in fact a big problem. I hate any male name that starts with an L. I would have hated any female name that starts with an L if not for the fact that mine also starts with it and that would be me practicing self hate and being a hypocrite.

The thing is, they remind me of the big L which I took in life when I had to dump my modeling career just to start a family with Lamonthe, my ex baby daddy. He had somehow managed to convince me to have the baby first before the wedding. Only for him to leave my daft self at the altar.

Regardless of my hatred, I had no other choice than to tuck in my hatred for the L word and go scramble for a job on which my life utterly depended. Not to mention Max's fragile life depended on it as well. It's not as if I have any other choice in the first place.

I got to the address in no time and began marveling at the mansion. Its breathtaking view almost knocked the whole air off my lungs, leaving me breathless. I stood at the front door for a couple of minutes and the only thing I could do was stare.

When I finally recovered from my shock, I inhaled one final breath before pressing the doorbell. Once. Twice, no answer.

I glanced at the complimentary card again with a confused frown. Had that blonde receptionist given me a fake address of one of their clients who she knew wasn't around, in an attempt to get me out of her sight? Wow, what a sly play.

What happened to her simply insisting I leave? Instead of giving me false hope that made me walk all the way here.

I muttered a curse under my breath, my shoulders already slouched as I tried to turn.

But then, the door creaked open, igniting my dead hope back alive. I quickly turned back to the door and the person I saw standing by it knocked me off my feet and onto the floor. I crashed on the ground on my butt.

"You! It's you? You're Lucas Blackwood!?"

*Lucas' POV*

"You! It's you? You're Lucas Blackwood!?"

"What the heck are you doing here?" I asked, as shocked as she was. Only that mine was a different kind of shock.

I watched one of the most beautiful women I used to know blink back at me unbelievably with her emerald green eyes. Even though she is now a shadow of herself, Lola has facial features any artist would kill for. It was one of the things that attracted me to her seven years ago.

She used to be my source of inspiration. She still is. Only that I can't have anything to do with her now.

"Lamonthe? Lamonthe Williams? It's you?"

My heart beat increased its pace just as I heard her say my name. I had longed for the day I would hear her say my name. Only on a different circumstance. Maybe while we are tangled up on the sheets. Not now that she was about to place me in a compromising situation.

I averted my gaze and clenched my jaw, "What are you doing here?"

She immediately got up from her sprawled position on the floor and to answer my ridiculous question, she shoved me and my back crashed against the door.

"What am I doing here? You really want to know what I am doing here?"

"Lola, please. Enough of your melodrama."

What she was doing wasn't in any way funny and I knew it. She had every right to be angry at me. If she had pointed a gun at my forehead right now, I would have encouraged her to go ahead and shoot me, knowing fully well that I deserved every bit of her rage.

I had stood Lola up at the altar, and I had the best reason for doing it. Even if it was the most selfish reason ever. And I wasn't regretting it because if I am given another chance to choose between my career and starting a shabby family, the truth is that I will choose that career over and over again.

Five years ago, the right call came through at the wrong time. Right call? My dream agency wanted to start representing my art career right away. Wrong time? The call came in on the eve of my wedding day.

Lola knotted my shirt on a tie, jolting me out of my thoughts. I looked at her, only to find out that the tears had already stained her cheeks.

I wanted so badly to wipe her tears away. Or lick all of them off with my tongue. But that would be me intentionally placing myself in another dangerous compromising situation.

Which brought me to my second dilemma. Alessia.

Alessia, the CEO of my agency, had taken a liking to me immediately she set her eyes on me. I think it was love at first sight for her. More importantly, I think she loved me more than she loved my painting because according to her, I was a work of art itself.

"Look at me, Lamonthe," Lola said.

"Lucas. Its Lucas now. I have changed my name and identity, Lola."

"So what if it is damn Lucas? Just look at me. Look at what I have been reduced to all because of your child."

"My child or our child?"

Her grip on my chest tightened, "The point is that you left him all for me to raise. Do you have any idea how miserable that made me all these years?"

"Are you trying to guilt trip me?"

"What's going on here?"

The third voice made my spine stiffen, knowing who it belonged to. I turned to see Alessia's right hand man watching us with narrowed eyes.

"You know very well that my boss won't like the sight of this," he continued.

"Calm your titties, sir. She just came here to look for a job."

Lola must have sensed that there was a problem because she let go of my shirt and went back to the demeanor she was in when she first arrived.

"Then give her the damn job. We are all tired of you being too selective of who your personal assistant would be," he lowered his tone before saying, "Not that you really need a PA in the first place. We all know the reason why your work really sells."

My head snapped in his direction, "What did you just say?"

"Just give her the job."

My jaw clenched again as I tried to decide what to do. Should I reject my baby mama the position, just like I have been denying everyone who asked for this job? But that is not the important part I should be worried about. How would I be able to work side by side with a woman I am super attracted to and still remain professional with her?

That's totally impossible and I know it. I can't count how many nights I have dozed off just thinking about her.

Lola tried to say something, which I am sure would be jeopardizing, thanks to the angry look on her face. I quickly began shaking my head firmly at her.

In as much as I have my own fair share of her misery, I won't have her adding to mine by causing a possible havoc between me and Alessia.

Alessia owns my life. She has the power to make or mar my career at the center of her right palm, and one wrong move meant the end.

So my career being my life still means that she owns my life.

"I need this job. Max's life depends on it."

"Oh ma'am? You have a son?" Alessia's right hand man asked.

Lola nodded at him sympathetically.

"Lucas," he began with a stern voice.

"Alright. I'm going to interview her. Come inside, will you?"

But I don't need to interview Lola because I already knew that she is qualified for the job. In fact, there had been a few times when I thought of her whenever the need for an assistant came up. However, knowing I wouldn't want to complicate things in my life, I usually trashed the idea.

The interview ended right before it started. The good news was that Lola got the job. The bad news was that I am about to start living my worst nightmare.

*Lola*

I sat and re-sat uncomfortably on one of the large plush couches in Lamonthe's mansion, while my mind dangled between being grateful or resentful.

Lamonthe saved me. But he is also the cause of my misery all these years.

Getting this job meant Max and I would have a roof over our heads in the next couple of months. So I should be thankful. Not to mention paying off the loan shark who had threatened to hurt my dear daddy if I didn't give him his money in three days' time.

But if he was the cause of your misery, why should you be thanking him?

I winced at my new line of thought. My eyes roamed around the large living room. The space felt like a small haven. So Lamonthe had been living his best life right at this place? While his son and I had almost rotted away. A jab of pain stabbed me deep in my chest.

"So you are Lola?"

My head snapped towards the direction of the smooth and cultured voice which rang across the room like a melodious song. When my eyes met with the older woman descending down the stairs, my whole body tensed up a little. There was something about her aura that felt so intimidating.

I quickly stood up and clasped my hands behind my back. "Good morning, ma'am. I'm Lola Thomas, Lucas Blackwood's new personal assistant."

"I know," she said, flipping her perfectly laid ginger-coloured hair, "I don't know if Lucas had given you an instruction on where to start?"

I shook my head to a no, now wondering where Lucas was and why he hadn't come down yet. Was he avoiding me? And who is she?

I bit back a curse, knowing that I shouldn't have gone back on my words by choosing to have anything to do with the man who left my soul broken five years ago. I had contemplated rejecting the job until the temp agency emailed me my contract, and it had the figures I would be getting paid as a salary.

"Not exactly," I replied to her, my voice now devoid of any emotion.

"Alright, that wouldn't be a problem. I can fill you in on the things you need to get from the nearest mall before you can get started with work."

She ended up listing all the things I would buy, and I stood there, watching each word roll off her tongue with such precision that left me wondering if she had practiced her words before saying them. When she was done, she brought out a platinum card and held it out to me but somehow became skeptical about handing it over to me.

"Are you sure I can trust you with this card? I don't want to hear a story of how some new girl we brought ran off with a huge amount," she smirked at me.

Is she trying to imply that I am a thief? My heart wrenched at the thought.

"Not that the cops wouldn't catch you anyways," She concluded.

As a reply, I gave her a subtle but thorough look by slowly lowering my eyes and taking in every fashion statement on her body. Even though I stayed less than a decade in the fashion industry as a model, I don't need a fashion stylist to tell me that the sea blue gown she was putting on costs hundreds of dollars. If not some thousand dollars.

The Jimmy Choo stilettos are also around the same price. I gasped on seeing the Gucci handbag.

"Are you ready to start your day, my love?"

I paused on my fashion analysis and raised my head, only to see the man that used to be the center of my world descending the stairs.

My love? What does she mean by my love? Does it mean that they are dating or something?

I took another careful look at the woman's face, this time to gauge her age. We have the same oval face and pouty mouth. But her eyes are pale, piercing brilliantly blue. She is not only the older version of me but also older than Lucas.

What was Lucas thinking dating an older woman?

My blood began boiling with rage when I saw the woman easily offer her lips to him and he smacked a quick but sensual kiss on it.

"I will be at the art gallery. Call me if you need anything."

"Alright, Alessia. Have a great day, love," Lucas replied.

The woman's stilettos began clicking towards the front door, I looked at Lucas expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

"Hey you! Aren't you coming to get the supplies?"

Alessia dropped me off at the mall. All through the way, she told me about her history with Lucas. How they met at an art exhibition. How she and Lucas had connected after the first conversation. How she helped his career. She was more of telling me to back off than making small conversation.

I was relieved after she dropped me. However, my relief didn't last long because the next call that came into my phone ended up flipping my life upside down.

I found myself speeding towards the hospital where I was told Max had been admitted. Apparently, he had fainted and when the school paramedic couldn't revive him, they had to rush him to the hospital.

On finding the children's section and Max lying helpless in one of the wards, all the air in my lungs almost left, leaving me breathless.

"The doctor had managed to stabilize him, although he seems to be in a very critical situation," one of the nurses on duty told me.

"But will my baby be okay?" I managed to ask with my hoarse voice.

"We will only know that once we start the treatment. And to start the treatment, we will need you to deposit some cash."

Both myself and my currently empty account found ourselves crashing on the floor. Blackness ensued.