Page 20 of Don’t Fall for the Billionaire
Chapter Twenty
Ashton
I was in my office while Charlotte gave Eloise a bath before my father arrived. When I heard the doorbell ring, I got up from my chair and went to answer it.
“Hi, Dad.” We hugged.
“Hello, son.”
“Margo.” I didn’t want to hug her, but I felt as if I didn’t have a choice.
“Hey, handsome.” She grinned, chomping on her gum.
“What’s with the pumpkins and these decorations? You’ve never done that,” my father asked.
“My new nanny asked if it would be okay if she decorated. She loves autumn.”
“And you allowed it?” His brow raised.
“It’s for Eloise, Dad.”
“Where is my granddaughter?”
“Upstairs, taking a bath. She has tonsillitis again.”
“Poor kid.”
“She’ll be down shortly. Can I pour you two a drink?”
“Just sparkling water for me,” Margo said.
“I’m sorry, Margo, but I don’t have sparkling water.”
“I’ll have a whiskey sour, son.”
“Grandpa!” Eloise flew down the stairs and into his arms.
“There’s my girl.” He picked her up and held her tightly. “I hear you’re sick.”
“I feel a little better now that I took a bath.”
“Eloise, this is Margo. Margo, my adorable granddaughter, Eloise.”
“Oh my God. You have the most beautiful eyes. And your skin is glowing.”
“It’s the fever,” I said. “Dad. Margo. This is Eloise’s new nanny, Charlotte. Charlotte, meet my father, Cameron, and his girlfriend, Margo.”
“What a pleasure to meet you, young lady.” My father smiled and extended his hand.
“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Cross.”
“I’m a hugger!” Margo grinned, pulling Charlotte into a hug.
“What happened to Maura?” my father asked.
“She moved back to London,” I replied. “Make yourselves comfortable while I throw the steaks on the grill. Margo, how do you like your steak cooked?”
“I don’t eat meat.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.” I looked at my father.
“It’s fine. I can eat a salad and whatever else you’re having.” She smiled, chomping on her gum. I wanted to reach into her mouth, pull it out, and throw it at her.
“She seems really nice,” Charlotte said before I stepped onto the patio to put the steaks on the grill.
“Just wait.” I smirked. “You haven’t had a full-on conversation with her yet.”
“Charlotte?” Eloise walked into the kitchen. “I’m really tired and want to go to bed.”
“Honey, dinner will be ready soon. Can you wait until after you eat?”
“No. My throat hurts. I don’t want to eat.”
I walked over and picked her up. “Come on, sweetheart. I’ll tuck you in. Let’s go say goodnight to grandpa.”
“And Margo,” she said.
“Right.” I glanced at Charlotte and rolled my eyes. “Can you keep an eye on the steaks?”
“Of course. Night, sweetie. If you need anything, use the intercom.”
“Night, Charlotte.”
By the time I was done tucking her in, Charlotte had taken the steaks off the grill.
“Dinner’s ready,” she said. We gathered around the table. “Oh, my gosh, Margo. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Well, I wanted sparkling water, but Ashton said you don’t have any.”
“I got you.” She smiled, getting up from her chair. “Here, you go.”
“You are the best.” Margo grinned.
“I apologize, Margo. I wasn’t aware we had sparkling water,” I said.
“He didn’t know. I just picked some up this afternoon at the grocery store. So, Ashton tells me you’re a wellness influencer.”
“I am. I have two million followers on Instagram and three million on TikTok.”
“And what exactly is a wellness influencer?”
I lightly kicked her under the table.
“I help people feel better about themselves. I create makeup tutorials, hair tutorials, nail tutorials, and exercise tutorials. In fact, I need everyone to be quiet for a moment.” She picked up her phone and started taking a video of the table filled with food. “Got it.” She grinned.
“And what will you caption that video?” Charlotte asked.
“Family bonding time, silly. Oh my God. Do you have Instagram? We can be Insta buddies.”
“I don’t post that much.”
She held her phone in her hand. “What’s your Insta handle?”
“Charlottebakes,” she said.
“Oh.” Her brows furrowed. “What’s with all the pies? Like, your Instagram profile is all pies.”
“Because I bake pies.”
“Sounds boring.” She shrugged. “I don’t do sugar. It’s very unhealthy. I hope you control Eloise’s sugar intake, Ashton.”
“We have a sugar rule in this house. You can never have enough.” I grinned.
She furrowed her brows at me, and it took everything I had not to burst out laughing.
“Since we’re all enjoying this lovely dinner together, there’s something I need to tell you, son,” Cameron spoke.
“What is it, Dad?” I stabbed a green bean with my fork.
“Margo is pregnant. We’re having a baby.”
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “You’re what?” I set my fork down.
“We’re having a baby.” My father beamed, grabbing hold of Margo’s hand and gently squeezing it. She flashed her perfectly white teeth and placed her other hand on her still flat belly.
“Dad, you do realize that when this kid graduates high school, you’ll be seventy-seven?”
“Seventy-eight, actually. The baby is due a week after my birthday.”
“Oh, well, that makes it completely reasonable then,” I said, my voice covered with sarcasm. “Have you two considered that you’ll be attending parent-teacher conferences with people who could be your grandchildren?”
“Not me. I’m only twenty-eight.” Margo giggled.
“What’s done is done, son. We’re having a baby, and you need to accept the fact that you’re going to have a brother or sister.”
This was unbelievable. I was livid that he could be so stupid. But I needed to stay calm until I could speak to him alone.
“How about some dessert?” Charlotte grinned. “I made a peach pie.”
“Peach pie is my favorite.” My father smiled.
“I’ll help you.” I got up and followed her into the kitchen. “I cannot fucking believe this.” I gripped the edge of the island.
“Calm down, Ashton.”
“Calm down?” I spoke through gritted teeth. “My fifty-nine-year-old father just told me that he and his flake of a girlfriend are having a baby!”
“I know. I was there.” She reached into the cabinet and pulled down some plates. “Can you grab the forks, please?”
I opened the drawer and took out some forks.
“Just keep your cool until after they leave,” she said.
“After we eat this pie, I want you to distract Margo so I can speak to my father alone.”
“How do you want me to do that?” Charlotte asked, cocking her head.
“I don’t know. Think of something.” I walked out of the kitchen.