Twins For The Billionaire. Sarah M. Anderson

once, then again. Of all the things she might have said—that wasn’t what he’d expected. “I don’t know that I need to tell them anything.” Except that was a hedge and he knew it.

      Because he wanted to know why his mother hadn’t kept him up-to-date on what Sofia was doing and there was no way he could ask without revealing that Sofia now worked for him.

      “I assume your parents know where you are?” he asked.

      “They do.” She dropped her gaze back to the contract and flipped the page. “They were worried.”

      “About?” Suddenly, he found himself hoping the Cortés family hadn’t followed all the headlines—his abandonment on his wedding day or the subsequent re-sowing of his wild oats afterward.

      “They want to see me succeed but...well, they knew this job was a stretch for me. I don’t have the experience.” She looked up at him and he saw the truth in her eyes. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this,” she went on in a rush. “Because the truth is that we’re not friends anymore. We’re old acquaintances who only knew each other because my parents worked for yours. Now you’re my boss and I shouldn’t be telling you about my family’s hopes or that I suffered debilitating panic attacks after my husband died. You’re not supposed to know these things about me.”

      She was almost shouting at him. The force of her emotion pushed him back in his chair.

      “Oh, God,” she said, slumping down. “And I definitely shouldn’t be yelling at you. I couldn’t be screwing this up more if I tried, could I?”

      If it were anyone else, he’d agree. He’d show her the door and count himself lucky to have dodged a bullet.

      So why wasn’t he doing that right now?

      When was the last time anyone had put him in his place? No one—with the obvious exception of his parents—talked to him like this. They all minced around him like he was a volatile chemical and they were afraid of the reaction he’d spark. Even Marcus Warren—who had no trouble telling anyone what he thought about anything—had been pulling his punches with Eric.

      Sofia telling him off should have been infuriating. But...

      All he could think about was how he’d missed her. And how he hoped she’d missed him, too. “You need a friend.”

      She looked at him, her eyes suspiciously shiny and a quirky smile on her face. “Maybe you do, too.” Abruptly, she stood, grabbing her handbag and clutching the contract to her chest. “I’m going to take this job because you’re right, I need it. But I won’t be your object of pity. You don’t owe me a larger salary. You don’t owe me any special perks. I’m your employee. Try to remember that.”

      That was, hands down, one of the most effective set-downs he’d ever received in his life. It was so good that all he could do was smile as she walked out of the office.

      * * *

      “Mama!” Two small voices cried in unison when Sofia came through the door that evening. She still felt that she was moving in a daze but at least here, in the sanctuary of her parents’ house, with her two children launching themselves at her, everything still felt the same.

      “Babies!” she cried back, just like she did every time she had to be away from them. She opened her arms as they flung themselves at her, almost knocking her off balance in her heeled shoes. “Were you good for Abuelita today?” she asked over their heads as her mother slowly climbed to her feet from where she’d been sitting on the floor.

      “Fine, fine,” Mom said, waving away this concern. “How about you? You got the job?” Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she added, “Did he remember you?”

      Sofia staggered over to the couch that was possibly older than she was with the children squirming in her arms, collapsing in a heap of happy baby sounds. Addy curled up in her lap and began humming contentedly while Eddy slid down and toddled over to a small set of table and chairs, where he picked up a piece of paper he’d made some very colorful lines on. He showed it to her proudly.

      “Oh,” Sofia said, touching the picture. “So pretty.” Eddy began to chatter about whatever it was he’d drawn. She grinned. The twins weren’t quite talking yet, but they sure had a lot to say.

      As expected, Addy took all this attention for Eddy as a direct challenge to her artistic merits. She went to get her drawing, too. The twins were always competing like this and only occasionally did it result in tears.

      After she had also complimented Addy’s colorful lines, she leaned back, settling into the ancient cushions of the couch while the twins started coloring again. Even when her father had started selling houses and they’d moved into this small ranch home, the Cortéses hadn’t wasted any money on new furniture.

      Even though they were now respectably middle class, they still lived carefully and those were lessons Sofia had a hard time unlearning. It’d taken a long time to get used to the way David would decide he wanted a new phone or a new computer and just go buy it. Almost all of their fights had been about money. She’d never felt comfortable spending it but he couldn’t understand why she didn’t want a few nice things.

      If anything, Eric was a million times worse than David ever could have been. The craziest thing David had ever done with money—besides spending five thousand dollars on her engagement ring—had been buying a brand-new, top-of-the-line flat screen television that took up a huge chunk of wall in their living room. But that had only been seven thousand dollars.

      Eric was throwing an extra fifty thousand dollars at her. Truly, he was being an idiot about it. But wasn’t she being an idiot to try to give that cash back? It wasn’t like she couldn’t use the money. The life insurance money had run out and she’d moved back in with her parents because, well, she’d been in the grips of depression and the mother of two newborns. But it’d also been to save money.

      She sighed. Eric was right. Fifty thousand was a year to her. To him, it couldn’t be more than fifteen minutes of one day. And she had shown up for the job interview hoping that the Jenner kindness would help her get back on her feet. She was in no position to refuse that kindness.

      Her mother appeared with a glass of lemonade and a worried smile on her face. “Well?”

      “He remembered me. And I got the job.” She took the lemonade and drank deeply. “He’s paying me too much money.”

      At this, Mom smiled. “The Jenners—they always pay too much. They’re very generous people.”

      Sofia looked up at her mother. Rosa Cortés had worked her entire life to take care of Sofia. But it wasn’t until Sofia had unexpectedly become a widow with two infants that she had appreciated how her mother always kept her head up and hope in her heart.

      Mom had given her everything. It was time for Sofia to return the favor. “Listen, I’m going to start paying you to watch the kids. And hire someone to help out.”

      Her mother’s eyes got wide and then immediately narrowed. Sofia braced herself. “You’ll do no such thing,” she snapped. “I love spending the day with my nietos. It’s not a job.”

      “Yes, I will.” Sofia was almost too tired to argue—but this was important. “You quit your job at the brokerage to stay home with us. You’ve kept me going more times than I can count. You’ve always taken care of me, Mom. Let me take care of you, too.”

      Her mother shook her head and stamped her foot, which was a show of temper for her. Rosa was so mild mannered as to be meek.

      “Fine,” Sofia said, knowing further debate would only make Mom dig in her heels even more. “I’ll put the money in a retirement account for you. And I will hire someone to help out. That’s nonnegotiable. You know Dad’s going to be on my side about this.”

      Although he would never want to hurt Mom’s feelings by suggesting she couldn’t do everything, Dad had privately told Sofia he worried the twins might be too much for Mom.