The Billionaire's Pregnant Virgin

Chapter 2: A Reality Check

I look across the diner booth at Josh's blue eyes and I can just see his disappointment in me. From the moment I told him about my plan to finance Grace's dream, he never seemed to understand. He couldn't. His family has never had to scrounge for money when he or his brother needed something.

But that's not my reality.

My grandmother always said, "Money doesn't grow on trees," and when she passed away, the responsibility for Gracie's happiness landed with a thud on my shoulders.

I've sat in this same booth with Josh at least a hundred times, confessing some of our deepest, darkest secrets right here, over cheeseburgers or ice cream sundaes. This time feels different.

"You're against this whole idea, aren't you?" I ask, already knowing his answer.

He sighs. "I just think there are other ways—better ones—of paying for this. You could've used the academy's finance plan."

Even if they'd accepted me with no credit history, I'd have tens of thousands of dollars in debt to deal with for nearly a decade. Then when the next thing comes along that Grace needs, I wouldn't be able to afford it.

Regardless of what Josh thinks, this was the best way.

If I need to have Devin and Catriona Cromwell's baby so that Grace can go to this school, of course I'm going to do it.

Josh senses my frustration with him. "Isabel, I've seen the sacrifices you've made for her. Hell, I was the one who comforted you after you turned down RISD. How many big sisters would even consider giving up their own dream to take care of a sibling?"

He's right about that. When I made the hard choice to give up a chance of going to art school—and not just any art school, but the Rhode Island School of Design, the best in the country—Josh was there to talk me down.

"I know how much you love that kid," he continues. "Not just anyone would make that kind of sacrifice."

I look him right in the eye and say, "And I'd do it all again, Josh. Grace is worth it."

"You're worth it too. You seem to forget that part."

I look down at my sundae, nudging the hot fudge with my spoon. Something in his look is unsettling, and it's not the idea that he doesn't approve of me. It's more than that. I remember Grace's words: "You know there's something between you two. Everyone can see it."

I fight the urge to indulge that thought. What's the point, anyway? Josh and I are friends and always have been.

Looking back to him, I say, "Look, I know you don't want me to do this. You—"

"No, you've got that all wrong. It's not that I don't want you doing it."

"Then what is it?" I demand.

His eyes soften ever so slightly. "I'm just worried about you, that's all. I don't want you doing anything you'll regret later."

I swallow hard. I've already wondered if I'm about to do something I'll regret. I banish the thought from my mind.

"I'll be fine."

Josh looks doubtful. Hell, I'm doubtful.

"I'm a big girl now," I say, trying to smile.

"Have you thought about how you'll feel when you have to hand over a child you've been carrying inside you for nine months?"

I ignore his question. That's something I refuse to think about because the situation is totally different. This is a job. Just a job. It's only about the money.