Oops! My Secret Baby Is Caught By His Top-Lawyer Daddy! Novel

---- Chapter 40: Babe, You Forgot Something Aaron immediately turned to Matt. "Matt, go grab breakfast for me. Fast!" Matt glanced at the scrappy little street vendor nearby and blinked like he'd misheard. He pointed, unsure. "That one?" "Yeah, whatever. Anything's fine. Just hurry!" At that moment, the pediatric office was packed-everyone was in, chatting, munching on breakfast, swapping weekend gossip. It was peak morning chaos. Clara tried to hand the donut Steven had given her back. "Mr. Riley, my throat's been a little sore lately. I'm cutting out sweets.

You take it." Steven chuckled shyly. "One bite won't hurt. These donuts aren't that sweet. I think you'll like it. Just try." Clara wanted to roll her eyes. This man was clearly missing a few social cues. How could he not get the hint? Day after day with these little gestures-it was exhausting. ---- Just then, one of the nurses sitting near the door suddenly perked up, distracted by a tall, sharply dressed man standing outside. "Sir, are you here with a patient? Office hours don't start until nine. Come back later." Aaron gave a polite nod. "No, I'm here for Clara." "Oh!

Hold on." The nurse turned and called out, loud enough to shake the ceiling. "Clara! Someone's here for you!" Her booming voice dropped the room into silence. Everyone turned toward the door to get a look at whoever had come looking for Clara. She instinctively looked up-and froze. It was Aaron. What the hell was he doing here? Heart racing, Clara hurried over.

When she was about ten feet away, Aaron raised his voice just enough for everyone to hear: "Babe, you forgot your breakfast!" He took two steps forward and handed her a plain white plastic bag with the flair of someone delivering a bouquet of roses. ---- Clara's face flushed with heat. Her temples throbbed. She was about to explode. They had literally eaten breakfast together at home thirty minutes ago! This man was doing it on purpose. No doubt about it. With that maddeningly smug curve to his lips, he watched her take the bag-two hard-boiled eggs inside. Perfect.

Clara grit her teeth and snapped, each word like a bullet: "You. Are. So. Dead." Aaron reached out to pat her head, grinning like he'd just won the lottery. "Okay. I'll be waiting at home, my darling wife." Then he turned on his heel and walked out like a king. Inside, the office went up in flames. "Clara, when did you get married?!" "Clara, not telling your coworkers? That's cold!" "Wait, that's really your husband? Oh my God, he's hot." "His voice is insane. I think I just ovulated." "Did you see him pat her head?! I literally swooned. ---- That was so romantic." "Those legs... that suit...

that vibe. Ugh, I'm jealous!" "Clara, you better buy lunch for the whole department now! Cafeteria, twelve o'clock!" "Seriously, you didn't tell us you got married? Are we even friends?!" One of the married women even leaned over and whispered in her ear, "With those broad shoulders and narrow hips, I bet he's amazing in bed. Girl, your sex life must be lit." Clara felt her soul leave her body. She wanted to curl up and vanish on the spot. After lunch, she was slumped over her desk like a deflated balloon.

She pulled her meal card out of her lab coat pocket, snapped a photo, and sent it to Aaron. "Your wife's meal card is maxed out." Aaron, who was still at a business lunch, opened the message, sent her a head-pat emoji, and transferred the money. Clara accepted the transfer-ten thousand bucks. Fine. That kind of band-aid did help her wounded dignity a bit.