Page 100 of Wrong Room, Right Billionaire

God, this man!

“No. Actually, I can’t go to the doctor,” I say.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. Really.”

“And why is that?” he asks.

“Because. I don’t have health insurance,” I say.

“Sure you do,” he says. “Donovan is adding a benefits package to your employment agreement as we speak.”

“I don’t think it works that way. Or that quickly,” I snort.

“And yet, it’s amazing how differently things work when you have all the money in the world. Which I do. Now get in the car. We’re going to get you checked out.”

Chapter 36

Scarlett

I’m quiet the entire drive to the doctor’s office. Arms crossed, head looking out the window. I want it to be very clear that I am not speaking to him because I am not happy with him. But Morgan doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he and Donovan are talking the entire way about some financial speed bump they’ve hit at the resort in Tahiti or somewhere.

“For the record, I am here against my will,” I say when Seb pulls up to the curb. “And I am contacting HR after this.”

“Sounds great. I’m sure they’ll love that your boss actually took care of you during a travel job. Health benefits. Such a monster,” he says, and I sneer at him before he hops out and rounds the car to open my door.

“You’re not coming inside,” I tell him.

“I wasn’t planning on it. I have to do a conference call. But Seb will be walking you in and he will also walk you out. So don’t get any AWOL ideas,” he says.

“You are such a pain sometimes,” I say, stomping off towards the doors.

It’s not that I want to be difficult. I’m not sick, and I know I’m not sick. So as soon as the doctor, a lovely woman in jogger scrubs with a huge grin, walks in to evaluate me, I blurt out the reason for my visit.

“I’m pregnant,” I tell her.

“Congratulations, that’s wonderful!” she says, but I don’t smile.

“No, I mean, that’s why I’m here,” I say.

“Are you having pain? Bleeding? Concerns about being pregnant of any kind?” she asks.

“You mean aside from the fact that the father was a complete stranger that I had a one-night stand with only to find out that he would later be my boss who I would travel the world with sharing hotel rooms and pretending to be engaged so his brother doesn’t sue him out of house and home?”

The words spew out of me with as much gusto as the vomit from earlier. I am so embarrassed that I break down crying.

“Oh, honey,” the doctor says, taking a seat next to me on the bed table thing instead of her designated doctor roller chair.

“I’m sorry,” I say as she hands me a tissue.

“Why are you sorry?” she asks.

“Because that was a lot.”

“It is a lot. But not for me. For you,” she says, rubbing the palm of her hand over my back in a circular motion. And honestly, I don’t know if that makes it easier or harder.

“And what does your baby daddy boss think of the pregnancy?” she asks, and I actually crack a smile at her attempt to be funny. Which, in itself, is kind of funny because I was in no mood to joke with Morgan earlier. But Morgan is a man. The doctor is a woman, a woman who seems to understand me.