Page 33 of The Billionaire's Promise

"Why didn't you just email me?" Magnolia said.

"Because I didn't want to type it all out. I wanted to talk to you. Why aren't you answering your phone?" Sloane's voice was shrill at the best of times. When she was annoyed, it could cut through glass.

I knew why Magnolia wasn't answering her phone. She'd turned it off when Rosalie fell asleep. We'd gotten in the habit of turning off all the phones when Rosalie was napping. No interruption was worth waking the baby. We'd both read the entire stack of books we'd gotten from the baby store, so we were well aware that the conventional wisdom was to expose the sleeping baby to all sorts of noises so they'd sleep through them.

Clearly, those people had never lived with a four-month-old. I loved Rosie. I’d never imagined it was possible to fall so completely head over heels for a tiny human being who couldn't even talk to me. That said, she was a hell of a lot easier to handle when she was sleeping. Every time she passed out, we were so fucking grateful that the idea of letting anything wake her up was unimaginable.

And here was Sloane, working herself up to a hissy fit. No fucking way. Before I could say anything, Magnolia cut in. In a low voice, she said, "Keep your voice down, Sloane. Come into the office, and we can go over whatever you want to talk about."

"Don't tell me to keep my voice down," Sloane snapped back, enunciating each word so precisely they shot from her mouth like bullets. "You were brought in to keep his business in line. That's the only reason you're here, and if you can't do that job, you’re welcome to leave."

I expected Magnolia to lose her temper. She usually kept a handle on her emotions, but we hadn't been getting a lot of sleep and Sloane could be hard to take on a good day. Instead, she shook her head and looked at me, raising one eyebrow.

"Can she fire me?" Magnolia asked, already knowing the answer. It was not the first time we'd had this conversation. It looked like Magnolia was prepared to be amused, but I was done with it.

"She can't," I said, "and she damn well knows it."

"Vance.” Sloane turned her back on Magnolia in an attempt to cut her out of the conversation. She placed one long-fingered hand on my chest. Her red-tipped fingernails reminded me of claws. Again, I wondered why Rupert put up with her.

"Sloane," I countered, removing her hand from my chest and taking a step back. "If you can't learn to treat Magnolia with respect, we're going to have to reevaluate our working relationship. Do you understand me?"

I kept my voice level and low, but there was no mistaking my intent. Sloane's eyes widened in disbelief. She stepped back, her eyes shooting between us.

"You're sleeping with her," she screeched, pointing her finger at me and then at Magnolia.

A tiny sneeze sounded from the bedroom, followed by another, then a third. Why was Rosie sneezing? Was she allergic to something? Sick? She'd seemed fine when we put her down. A second later, a high-pitched wail cut through the tension.

Before I could stop her, Magnolia disappeared into the bedroom. She came back with Rosie in her arms. My daughter's wisps of black hair were standing straight up, her blue eyes tear-filled. She'd been asleep for two hours. Two blissful, productive hours. I put out my arms, and Magnolia handed me Rosie after dropping a kiss on her red nose. Rosie sneezed again.

"She's hungry," Magnolia said, heading straight for the kitchen to mix up a bottle.

"Thanks, Babe," I said, nuzzling Rosie's cheek with my lips and whispering meaningless murmurs of comfort. Her little hands closed over my ears, her tears dripping on my cheeks. I was still getting used to how tiny she was.

"Excuse me? What the fuck is this?"

"Watch the language around my daughter, Sloane," I admonished, surprised at how much I sounded like Magnolia when she was doing her British headmistress imitation.

Sloane took a step back, her eyes pinging between Rosie, me, and Magnolia in the kitchen. I knew it would be funny later, but just then, all I wanted was for her to leave.

I loved feeding Rosie. I loved the way she cuddled into me. She was still so mysterious, so difficult to predict, and the sense of accomplishment I got from feeding her when she was hungry kept me going all the times when she started crying and wouldn't stop. An empty stomach was a problem I could solve.

Magnolia was almost done with the bottle. I shifted Rosie in my arms and pinned Sloane with a look.

"As you can see, we're busy. If you need to work with Magnolia on something to do with the show, you can go in her office if you can keep your voice down. If Magnolia tells me you were anything other than professional, we're going to have a difficult conversation. Get me?"

"Are you sleeping with her? Whose baby is that? What the fuck is going on, Vance?"

"Sloane, this is the only time we’re going to talk about this. Yes, Magnolia and I are together. However, it's none of your business. This is Rosalie," I said, angling the baby so Sloane could get a good look at her. "She's my daughter. I have full custody of her now, so she's going to be in my life. None of this is your concern. If you can't stick to business when you talk to Magnolia or me, I will fire you and find another agent and another gallery."

"You can't fire me," Sloane said.

"I can do whatever I want," I said. "Let me explain my priorities, so we're clear. Rosalie comes first. Then Magnolia. Then my family. My work, business, all the rest of it, is an afterthought. Do you get that? Don't fuck with my family."

Magnolia came back with the bottle, her steps hesitant, her eyes on Rosalie. Ignoring both Sloane and myself, she put the bottle down on the side table and pulled Rosie from my arms. "Is her nose running because she was crying? Does she feel warm to you?"

Magnolia leaned into my side, offering up Rosie's flushed cheek. I laid my fingers on her pink skin. She felt warm, but she always felt warm when she woke up from a nap. I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, remembering that the doctor had said that was a more reliable gauge of her temperature.

Shit. She did feel warm.