Second Chance with my Billionaire Baby Daddy

*Lola's POV*

I clutched my chest tightly in an attempt to calm down my racing heart, just as my shaking legs took the remaining nervous steps towards the building.

Cold air breezed past me as I entered the temp agency, spreading goose bumps all over my arms. The blonde receptionist looked up, her eyes narrowing as soon as she took in my appearance.

"Hi. How can I help you, miss?" she asked, her attention returning to the computer in front of her.

I hesitated, trying to find my voice. A surge of anxiety rushed through me and I licked my dry lips, trying to calm myself down.

"Hi. My name is Lola Thomas, and I'm here about the job. I saw your ad in the paper."

I followed her scrutinizing gaze up and down my body. I winced inwardly, knowing that the cheap chiffon top I had paired with my already worn out jeans might disqualify me even before I got started.

I had taken a big leap of faith moving to a new city to start a new life with my five years old son, Max, solely depending on the few dollars I had borrowed from the loan shark. It's been three weeks since I took that step of faith and I have gone to countless interviews without any success. This feels like my last hope.

I don't know if I will get the job, but I am certain that I will lose my mind if I get a no from the blonde receptionist.

"I don't think we have any more positions open," the blonde receptionist said with a dismissive tone.

Here we go. One part of me wanted to scream out my frustrations until the entire building came crashing down around me. But I know that wouldn't help me. Neither would it help poor Max, whose entire existence depended on me, his miserable mother, who couldn't even find a job to save their lives. Literally.

So I swallowed past a lump and said, "Please ma'am. You have to help me. I have a son and losing this opportunity means that my son will starve."

She blinked back at me furiously, "Are you trying to guilt trip me?"

"No. I am only trying to convince you to help a dying sister. Please help me out."

I clutched my hands together in a prayer mood and awaited her response. The deep disgust masking her face made me suspect that all hope was lost for me. I would end up being kicked out of the shabby apartment next week. And in turn, I would have no other choice than to return to my family home where both my parents resent me and my sister hates me. The loan shark wouldn't hesitate before tearing me into pieces.

"Fine."

My eyes widened at her response. She went ahead and handed me a complimentary card containing a name and an address.

"Go to that address. The psycho artist has been looking for a personal assistant for weeks but kept rejecting everyone we sent his way. Maybe you both would be a match made in heaven."

I read through the words written boldly on the card with grateful eyes.

"Lucas Blackwood? No way in hell," I muttered.

"Is there a problem?"

"No. Of course not. Thank you so much." I flashed her a fake smile before rushing out of the building.

There is in fact a big problem. I hate any male name that starts with an L. I would have hated any female name that starts with an L if not for the fact that mine also starts with it and that would be me practicing self hate and being a hypocrite.

The thing is, they remind me of the big L which I took in life when I had to dump my modeling career just to start a family with Lamonthe, my ex baby daddy. He had somehow managed to convince me to have the baby first before the wedding. Only for him to leave my daft self at the altar.

Regardless of my hatred, I had no other choice than to tuck in my hatred for the L word and go scramble for a job on which my life utterly depended. Not to mention Max's fragile life depended on it as well. It's not as if I have any other choice in the first place.

I got to the address in no time and began marveling at the mansion. Its breathtaking view almost knocked the whole air off my lungs, leaving me breathless. I stood at the front door for a couple of minutes and the only thing I could do was stare.

When I finally recovered from my shock, I inhaled one final breath before pressing the doorbell. Once. Twice, no answer.

I glanced at the complimentary card again with a confused frown. Had that blonde receptionist given me a fake address of one of their clients who she knew wasn't around, in an attempt to get me out of her sight? Wow, what a sly play.

What happened to her simply insisting I leave? Instead of giving me false hope that made me walk all the way here.

I muttered a curse under my breath, my shoulders already slouched as I tried to turn.

But then, the door creaked open, igniting my dead hope back alive. I quickly turned back to the door and the person I saw standing by it knocked me off my feet and onto the floor. I crashed on the ground on my butt.

"You! It's you? You're Lucas Blackwood!?"