Twins For The Billionaire

But none of her answers were easy. “That’s why I’m here. My twins are—”

“Twins?” he cut her off, his eyes bugging out of his head. “How old?”

“Fifteen months.”

He let out a low whistle of appreciation as his gaze traveled the length of her body. Her cheeks warmed at his leisurely inspection but then his face shuttered again. “I can’t even imagine how difficult that must have been for you. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“I...thank you. It’s been hard. Which,” she went on before he could distract her from her purpose again with his kind eyes and kinder words, “is why I’m here. David and I sold houses together and since he passed I just...can’t. I need a job with regular hours and a steady paycheck to provide for my children.” There. She’d gotten her spiel out and it’d only hurt a little.

“What are their names?”

“Adelina and Eduardo, although I call them Addy and Eddy—which my mom hates.” She pulled her phone out of her handbag and called up the most recent picture, of the twins in the bath with matching grins, wet hair sticking straight up. “They’re officially toddlers now. Mom watches them but I think she’s outnumbered most days. I’d love to hire a nanny to help out.” And pay off the bills that were piling up and put a little away for the kids’ college funds and...

The list of problems money would solve for her was long. Even at the best of times, real estate involved odd hours and an unpredictable income. But if an agent couldn’t sell a house without sobbing in the car, then the income got very predictable. Zero.

Eric took the phone. She watched him carefully as he tilted the screen and studied their little faces. “They look like you,” he said. “Beautiful.”

Her face flushed at the sincere compliment. “Thank you. They’ve kept me going.”

Because if she hadn’t had two helpless little babies that needed to be fed and rocked and loved, she might’ve curled into a ball and given up. The numbing depression and crushing panic attacks were never far, but Addy and Eddy were more than just her children. They were David’s children—all she had left of him. She couldn’t let him down. She couldn’t let herself down.

So she’d kept moving forward—one day, one hour, sometimes even just one minute at a time. It’d gotten easier. That didn’t make it easy, though.

Eric stared at the shot of her babies for a long moment before finally motioning Sofia to one of the plush leather seats before his desk. “And you want to try your hand at office management? This isn’t a typical real estate office.”

She lifted her chin again. “Mr. Jenner—”

“Eric, Sofia. We know each other too well for formalities, don’t you think?” It was a challenge, the way he said it. “I’m not sure I could think of you as Mrs. Bingham, anyway. You’ll always be Sofia Cortés to me.”

She understood because she wanted to keep him as that fun, sweet boy in her mind forever. But she couldn’t afford to romanticize the potential billionaire employer sitting behind his executive desk and she couldn’t afford to let him romanticize her.

“That’s who I was,” she said, her words coming out more gently than she meant for them to. “But that’s not who I am now. We’ve grown up, you and I. We’re not the same kids splashing in the pool we used to be and I need this job.”

His gaze met hers and she saw something there that she didn’t want to think too deeply about. “Then it’s yours.”

Two

This was a mistake. Eric knew it before the words had left his mouth. But by then, it was too late.

He had just offered the position of office manager to a woman he wasn’t entirely sure was qualified.

That was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Because it wasn’t some random woman off the street. It was Sofia Cortés. He’d practically grown up with her.

But this wasn’t the little girl he remembered from his childhood. The woman before him was—well, she was all grown up. Despite the suit jacket and skirt she wore, Eric couldn’t help but notice her body. Sofia was a woman in every sense. She came almost to his chin, her thick black hair pulled away from her face. Eric had an unreasonable urge to sink his fingers into her hair and tilt her head to the side, exposing the long line of her neck.

He shook that thought out of his head. Why hadn’t his mother told him Sofia had gotten married and had twins, much less that her husband had died? Surely Mom knew. If nothing else, those were the sorts of things that tended to make a Christmas newsletter.

“Are you... Are you sure?” Sofia asked, looking stunned.

Eric felt much the same. He always did a thorough investigation of a candidate’s skills. Even when he knew he wanted to hire them anyway, like Heather for the position of receptionist. Not only did she have the perfect look for the face of his company, but she was finishing her MBA on the company’s dime. He hadn’t hired her just because she was hot, although that never hurt. He’d hired her because she was brilliant and would transition into the contracts department. It was never too early to begin building loyalty and Eric’s staff was beyond loyal.

That was something he’d learned from his father. Nurture the best talent and pay them well and they’d fight for you. Wasn’t that why Sofia was here? Because the Jenner family had supported the Cortés family?

“Of course,” he said with a certainty he wasn’t sure was warranted. “Can you do the job?”

The color deepened along her cheeks. He was not going to notice how pretty it was on her. She didn’t look like a widow with two adorable young children.

She looked...lush. And tempting.

He would not be tempted. One of his hard and fast rules was that he didn’t hit on staff. Flirt, maybe. But he never put a valued employee in a position where they felt they couldn’t say no because he was the boss.

What a shame he was hiring Sofia, then. Because that would put her completely out of reach. Which was fine. Good. She was undoubtedly still struggling with being a widow and a single mother. She didn’t need the complications that seemed to follow Eric like shadows cast by the afternoon sun.

Sofia cleared her throat. “I’m a quick study. I helped run my dad’s office when I was in school and staged homes part-time in college. I’ve been selling ever since I graduated.” She dropped her gaze and cleared her throat. “Until...”

What had she said? Seventeen months since she had been left a widow. And her twins—two of the cutest babies he had ever seen—were fifteen months old.

Eric’s world was one of logic and calculation. Real estate was a gamble on the best of days. But he always weighed the pros and cons of any option and he never bet more than he could afford to lose.

Of course, as a billionaire, he could afford to lose a lot.

Somehow, none of the usual checks and balances weighed much with this decision. Sofia was an old friend. Her family were good people. And those babies...

“The job is yours. There’ll be a learning curve, I’m sure, but I’m confident you’ll pick it up.” Either Sofia would or she wouldn’t. He had to give her that chance. And if she didn’t, then he’d help her find a position that better fit her skill set. Something with regular hours and a paycheck that would help her raise her toddlers by herself. And if that happened...then she wouldn’t work for him, would she? He could get to know her all over again. Every inch of her.

Hell. He was not thinking about Sofia—not like that. Especially because he was still hiring her. It was the right thing to do.

Her eyes were huge, but she managed a smile. “That’s...that’s wonderful.”

“We have a generous benefits package,” he went on, pulling a number out of thin air. “The starting salary is a hundred and twenty thousand a year, with bonuses based on performance. Is it enough?”

Her mouth dropped open and she looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. He could afford to pay well because hiring the best people was worth it in the long run. But he honestly couldn’t tell from her expression if she was insulted by that amount or flabbergasted.

“You can’t be serious,” she said in a strangled voice.

Eric raised an eyebrow at her. A couple extra thousand for him was nothing. Pocket change. “How about a hundred and forty-five?”

She got alarmingly pale. “Your negotiation skills are rusty,” she finally croaked out, a hand pressed to her chest. “You’re not supposed to go up, certainly not by twenty-five thousand. A hundred and twenty is enough. More than enough.”

Eric cracked a grin at her. “And your negotiation skills...” He trailed off, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “That would’ve been the point to say make it one fifty and it’s a deal. Are you sure you sold houses?” She got even paler and he realized teasing her was not the smartest thing to do. In fact, she looked like she was on the verge of fainting. “Are you all right?” He moved to the wet bar and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water. She was breathing heavily by the time he made his way back to her. “Sofia?”

He set the water on the desk and put his fingers on the side of her neck. Her pulse fluttered weakly under his touch and her skin was clammy. “Breathe,” he ordered, pushing her head down toward her knees. He crouched next to her. “Sofia? Honey, breathe.”

They sat like that for several minutes while he rubbed her back and tried his best to sound soothing. What the hell had happened? Normally, when he offered people more money, they jumped to say yes.

But this woman had actually tried to say no.

He focused on smoothing her hair away from her forehead, on how her muscles tensed and relaxed along her spine as he rubbed her back. Even through her jacket, he could feel the warmth of her body. He couldn’t imagine touching anyone else like this.

She was still struggling for air. Was this a medical crisis? He felt for her pulse again. It was steady enough. He needed to distract her. “Remember the sailboat races?” he asked. But he didn’t pull his hand away from her. He stayed close.

“Yes,” she said softly. “You let me win sometimes.”

“Let you? Come on, Sofia. You beat me fair and square.”

Her head popped up, a shaky grin on her face. “You’re being kind,” she said, her voice strangely quiet.

Eric realized there was less than a foot between them. If he wanted to kiss her, all he’d have to do was lean forward.

It came back to him in a rush—he’d kissed her once before, when they were kids. He’d had Marcus Warren over and Marcus had dared Eric to kiss her. So he had. And she’d let him.

Somehow, Eric knew that if he kissed her now, it wouldn’t be a timid touching of lips. This time, he’d taste her, dipping his tongue into her mouth and savoring her sweetness. He’d take possession of her mouth and, God willing, she’d...

He jerked back so quickly he almost landed on his butt. “Here,” he said gruffly, snagging the bottle of water off his desk and wrenching the cap off.

What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t be thinking about Sofia Cortés like that. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t the same innocent little kid. It didn’t even matter that she’d been married and had children. He couldn’t think of her like that.

He’d just hired her.

She took the water but didn’t look him in the eye. “I didn’t realize how expensive those toy boats were until we sank the loser that one time. Which was me, of course.”

“You were a worthy opponent but that avalanche was unavoidable,” he replied. He barely remembered the boat. But he did remember the sheer glee when they’d hit the boat with a decorative stone so large it’d taken both of them to toss it. The splash had been huge. “You have to admit it was fun.”

That got her to meet his gaze. “How old were we? I still remember the horror in my mom’s eyes when she caught us.”

“I was ten, I think. Old enough to know better, I was informed.” His parents had been more than a little exasperated with him, but his dad hadn’t been able to stop snickering when Eric had described the rockslide. “It was only a couple hundred dollars. No big deal.”

Well, that and his parents had made him get every single rock out of the pool. His mother was of the opinion that they didn’t need the pool boy to suffer for Eric’s foolishness. Still, it had taken three people to get the boulder out of the deep end.

Sofia rolled her eyes at him, which made him grin. “Maybe to you. My mother was horrified that we’d have to pay it back somehow.” She was talking to him now, sounding more like the Sofia he remembered. “There was no way we could have afforded that. Not then.”

“That’s why I took the blame.” He leaned against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He wished they weren’t in this office. He’d give anything to be out on the lake this morning. There, with the sun on his face and the wind in his hair, he’d be able to think clearly. Here, his mind was muddled.

She looked at him again. Her color was better and she seemed...well, not like the girl he’d known. But maybe someone he could still be friends with.

Friends who didn’t kiss, that was.

“You always were,” she murmured before she took another deep drink of the water.

“Were what?”

“Kind. One of the kindest people I’d ever known.” She dropped her gaze. “You still are. This job...” She swallowed.

Kind? This wasn’t kind. This was calculated. He was building loyalty and ensuring morale. This was keeping an eye on his business. And if it didn’t work out, well—he’d show her kind. He’d have her out of her buttoned-up jacket and skirt so fast her head would spin.

He laughed at his own thoughts, a bitter sound. “I’m not. I’m ruthless. A coldhearted bastard of the first order. Don’t you read the headlines?”

Three

Eric stared at her for a long moment, a dare in his eyes. Then he turned away and went to admire his view of the lake. The way he looked, silhouetted against the window, his shoulders broad and his hair curling gently just above the collar of his shirt—to say nothing of his backside in those custom-made pants...

She had seen the headlines, of course. He’d been left at the altar. He’d been named one of the “Top Five Billionaire Bachelors of Chicago.” He’d been ruthless in his business dealings. But none of that was who he really was.

Was it?

Even if life had changed them both, she knew that deep down, they were still the same people they’d been back when they’d been kids. He wasn’t a heartless bastard, no matter what people might say.

Heartless bastards wouldn’t have rubbed her back when she’d had a panic attack. They wouldn’t have gotten her water. They would have laughed her and her crippling anxiety right out of the office and slammed the door in her face.

Heartless bastards wouldn’t have looked like they were going to kiss her and they most certainly wouldn’t have stopped at just a look.

At least, Sofia thought that’s what Eric had been thinking. She hadn’t been kissed in a long time so she couldn’t be sure. She and David had enjoyed a passionate four years together before she’d gotten pregnant. But after her body had begun to change, so had their love life. The intimacy had been deeper, richer—but at the cost of some of the heat.

She fanned herself. It was unnaturally warm in here.

“Are you sure you want me to work for you? Good office managers don’t have panic attacks.”

“Of course they do,” he answered without turning around. “They just choose their locations wisely. I’ve always found it’s best to have a panic attack safely behind closed doors. No one wants to pass out next to the coffeepot.” He glanced back at her with a smirk. “Location, location, location—right?”

“Eric...”

A ripple of tension rolled over his shoulders. “Does that happen a lot?”

“It’s...better.” How to answer this question without making it sound like she was incapable of doing the job? “They started after David collapsed. One of them actually triggered early labor, but they got it stopped in time and I was on bed rest for five weeks. I hadn’t had one in a few months, though. I just wasn’t expecting any offer to be that...”

“Generous?”

“Insane.” This was the first time an attack had been triggered by something positive. “Eric, I can’t take that much money. The position was for seventy thousand. You can’t just randomly double it because we used to be friends.”

He made a scoffing sound and at that moment, he did sound a little ruthless. “First off, we’re still friends and second off, I absolutely can. Who’s going to stop me?”

A hundred and twenty was slightly more than she and David had earned together in a single year. The things she could do with that kind of money...but she didn’t want to be Eric’s charity case. “Most comparable positions are fifty to sixty thousand,” she protested.

That made him snort. “Comparable to what, Sofia? If you’re saying this position is just like running your suburban brokerage, you couldn’t be more wrong. I can promise you regular hours most of the time, but I’ll expect you to travel to potential sites occasionally. This isn’t just ordering paper clips and deciding how ten agents divide them. I employ forty lawyers, architects, agents, tax specialists, lobbyists—”

“Lobbyists?” The fact that she had no idea why he would have lobbyists on staff was probably a sign that she was in over her head.

“To negotiate with municipalities and influence laws, of course. We’re pursuing a project in St. Louis as we speak. If we play our cards right, we’ll get tax breaks from the city, county and state.” He grinned like he’d won the lottery.

“Of course,” she mumbled, unsure what else she was supposed to say. He was right. She was vastly out of her league.

“Besides,” he continued, sounding more than just a little cold as he turned his attention back out the window, “what’s a spare fifty thousand or so to a guy like me?”

Nothing, probably. She could see how that wouldn’t bankrupt a billionaire. Still, though. It was the principle of the matter. “But—”

“By the way,” he went on, as if she hadn’t spoken, “I have a better boat now. You should come with me sometime. I like to sail in the afternoons.”

He still wasn’t looking at her, but it was clear from the tone of his voice that the conversation about salary was finished.

“Is it a sailboat?” she asked.

“Nope. It’s a yacht. And we won’t sink this one with a rock, so don’t worry. You could...” He paused and then continued, “You could even bring the kids. I bet they’d love being out on the water.”

What was happening here? Eric was giving her a job and paying her way too much money. And now he was inviting her boating? With two rambunctious toddlers in tow? “Eric...”

“Never mind. I hear you’ve got a real bastard of a boss who won’t let you take off work just to go jetting around.” He turned and she barely recognized him at all—his face was that hard. “Come on. Let’s find out what you’ve gotten yourself into, shall we?”

More than she could handle, she thought as she followed him to the door of his office and into the heart of Jenner Properties.

* * *

Three hours later, Sofia knew she was in over her head. She was reasonably confident Eric knew it, too—but it didn’t seem to bother him. He would give her a look and say, “All right?” as if he were willing it to be true instead of asking a question.

He was putting a lot of faith in her and she didn’t want to let him down. She didn’t want to let her mom or her kids down, either. But most of all, she needed to do this for herself. This was the first big change she had undertaken on her own since her life had been thrown into upheaval a year and a half ago. She was tired of life happening to her. She was going to happen to her life. This job was the first step.

Even if that meant she would have to make it up as she went along.

“And here are Meryl and Steve Norton,” Eric was saying as he knocked on the last door to the office closest to his. “Meryl is my chief negotiator for the St. Louis project and Steve is the project manager. It helps that they’re married,” he added in a stage whisper. “Guys, this is Sofia Bingham. She’s our new office manager.”

“Hello,” Sofia said, smiling. Eric had stopped accidentally saying Cortés after only five or six introductions.

“Welcome,” a tall, jovial man with thinning hair said as he rose from a desk on one side of the office. He was a little soft around the middle, but his smile was friendly and his eyes were warm. “To the madhouse,” he went on, shaking her hand. “I’m Steve. I handle contractors.”

As big as Steve was, an equally tiny woman hopped down off her desk chair from the other side of the room. Steve slid his arm around her shoulders as Meryl Norton said, “Don’t listen to him. It’s not that bad—as long as you can embrace the madness. I’m Meryl and I handle politicians. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m generally friendly.” But she said it in such a way that Sofia couldn’t help but grin in response.

Eric’s wristwatch dinged and he said, “I’ve got to take this. Sofia, when you’re done catching up with the Nortons, ask Heather to show you where all the supplies are. If I’m still here when you’re done, stop in and see me. If not, check in with Tonya. She’ll have your contract.” With that, he was gone.

Sofia had done all right by his side because everyone in this building deferred to him. Eric seemed to understand his staff not just as employees but as people. Eric had given her a heads-up for the introverts who needed quiet to focus and the extroverts who needed someone to help them stay on task.

And Steve Norton clearly was an extrovert. “There’s a rumor going around that you and the big boss used to know each other,” he began with no other introduction, a slightly mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Honey,” Meryl said, elbowing him. If she hadn’t been so small, she would’ve elbowed him in the ribs. As it was, she more or less hit him in the hip bone. “Don’t pry. He pries,” she went on, giving Sofia a sympathetic look. “Did Mr. Jenner explain that there’ll be times when travel is a part of the job?”

“He did—and,” she added, before Steve could ask again, “we did know each other when we were little kids. His father gave my father his start in real estate.” Normally, she might not have revealed that. But it was better to clarify up front that she and Eric had never dated or otherwise had any romantic entanglements. In an office of this size, gossip could make her life a living hell. “Our parents still send Christmas cards to each other.”

Steve looked amused by this. Meryl said to her husband, “There. Now you don’t have to pry anymore. We’re planning a trip to St. Louis next month,” she went on, turning back to Sofia without pausing for breath. “They recently lost their football team and there’s a section of the downtown that’s depressed. We wouldn’t expect you to be involved in negotiations, but planning trips like this would be your responsibility. So far, Heather and I have been handling this together, but I think it would be a good idea for you to join us. That way, in the future, you’ll know how Mr. Jenner likes things done. You do have a background in real estate, correct?”

“I’ve been in real estate since I was fourteen. However, this is a different level,” she admitted. Okay, she could handle a business trip with Eric. No problem.

“That’s why the St. Louis trip will be good,” Meryl said decisively. She definitely talked like a negotiator. “You get a chance to see what Mr. Jenner is trying to accomplish when he branches out into smaller markets and how you can help make that happen. Understanding the business is key to understanding how the office works.”

Sofia glanced at Steve. For the project manager, he wasn’t doing a lot of talking. He looked like he wanted to ask her something else that was probably personal, but Meryl plowed ahead. “I’ll email you the current itinerary. We look forward to working with you, but no one expects you to manage Steve. That’s my job,” she added with a wink.