Free Carrying the Billionaire's Baby: A Clean BWWM Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire Baby Mystery Book 1) by Courtney King

Chapter 1
     
    Sherry Stevens sat nervously on the stage, picking at the skin around her fingernail. She was systematically peeling the dead skin away from the cuticle, in an effort to avoid making eye contact with the other three women on the panel. Each one of them had a swollen pregnant belly, like hers.
     
    The cue cards off to the left revealed that it would soon be time to announce the results. The show host straightened his tie and practiced his fake smile as the on-air light glowed above the camera. His silver hair and middle-age wrinkles made him an unlikely commentator on the topics he chose for his show. From cheating spouses to paternity reveals, every day was a scandal waiting to explode. Yet, his talk show remained one of the most popular, likely for its outrageous, televised fights and socially inept guests.
     
    Sherry Stevens was not one of those people. In fact, she was college-educated, gainfully employed, and a woman who paid her own bills. She just happened to be six months pregnant and in search of the identity of her baby’s father. She never would have even put herself in this position, but the producers had agreed to pay for the paternity test for all their guests—and they had access to a lot more DNA records than Sherry ever could.
     
    The cameraman counted back from five, signaling each number with his fingers. Sherry stared blankly out into the rowdy audience, wondering what kind of people bought tickets to a show like this. She lowered her hands, letting them rest on her belly. She was still getting used to the idea that she was even pregnant.
     
    She’d spent the last six months trying to explain to her friends and family exactly how all of this had happened. Of course, they knew how it happened—they knew how pregnancy worked. But the truth was, Sherry had no idea when this baby was conceived or who was responsible.
     
    A single woman, living in the city, Sherry was independent and career-focused. She had never been promiscuous. She just wasn’t that kind of girl. She also wasn’t the kind of girl who identified her ‘baby’s daddy’ by sitting on a talk show panel.
     
    She focused on taking deep breaths, the kind she had learned in yoga class, and prepared herself for the big announcement.
     
    “Don’t worry button,” she murmured to the little life inside her. “We’ll get through this okay.”
     
    ***
     
    Sherry sat backstage, holding a tiny cup of water and dabbing her face with a crumbled, used tissue. Her hand shook the piece of paper she was holding, with the name Richard Black in large print. The rest of the pregnant girls walked into the green room, staring at her.
     
    Sherry stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact while trying to wrap her head around the idea that this white man—this somewhat older white man—with loads of money was the father of her baby.
     
    She had seen Richard Black on television, and she knew who he was. Sure, he was the richest and most powerful man in the country, and he was always making the news for some extravagant adventure or huge donation to an art gallery—which he probably gave just to get on the news again. But, to Sherry, he seemed pompous. He had a distrusting face, almost like a cartoon character. His thick eyebrows always concealing some shady dealings, she assumed. She only knew of his persona from television news shows and tabloid magazines. She had no recollection of ever meeting him, let alone, sleeping with him.
     
    She gathered up her things and stood up to leave. The staff escorted her out of the television studio and into the waiting car. She sat in the back of the black Lincoln and leaned her head against the soft leather seat, staring out the window at the dirty city as the car pulled away from the curb. She stared at people on the street, the moms pushing strollers and families walking together, and let herself cry.
     
    The driver let her off at her building, and she hurried up the stairs. Once inside her