The Greek’s Hired Triplets - Holly Rayner

Chapter 1

Portia

The car gave one last sputter as Portia eased it into a parking spot. Her hands gripping the steering wheel, she sucked in a deep breath.

This was it. She was truly about to lose her mind.

Closing her eyes, she exhaled. She had to keep it together. A car breaking down was no big deal. Earthquakes were big deals. Presidential elections were big deals. Your boyfriend leaving you with zero warning while you were seven months pregnant with triplets was a big deal.

Funny enough, that last one had really happened to her. Exactly seven days ago, to be precise.

Throwing open the car door, she hauled herself out of the driver’s seat—something that had become a real challenge the last few months—and went to the front of the car. Popping the hood, she studied the contents underneath.

And came to absolutely no conclusion.

Portia wasn’t a car person. Numbers? Yes. Planning? Absolutely. She had a knack for organizing and a stellar memory. They were the skills that had scored her current job as an assistant to the CEO and founder of a major company.

But cars she didn’t get, so she pulled out her phone and called a tow truck. The driver gave her a twenty-minute estimate for his arrival, which was perfect. Her trip upstairs to her office should only take about that long.

Elastic Minds, the place she’d worked at since moving to Los Angeles two years before, created learning apps for kids. Working underneath the man who had started the company was stressful but always fulfilling. Portia had thought she would love maternity leave, and she had… until two weeks in.

That was when she’d gotten home from a dentist appointment and discovered that Liam and his things were gone, a letter saying, “I’m sorry. I thought I could but I can’t,” in his place.

She must have read that note over fifty times, looking for a better explanation between the lines. Liam’s departure had come at her out of nowhere, knocking the wind from her lungs and buckling her knees.

Portia’s chest burned as she entered Elastic Minds, and it wasn’t from the indigestion that had frequently accompanied her pregnancy. She’d thought Liam was the love of her life. She’d thought she could trust him.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Hey, Portia!” Emily, one of the receptionists, brightened at the sight of her.

“Hey, girl.” Despite it being the worst time of her life, Portia forced a smile.

At least it felt good to be back at the office. Work was something she could count on.

Elastic Minds took up a whole three-floor building in Studio City, about a twenty-minute drive from Portia’s apartment. Typically, she was one of the first people to arrive at work, so it felt strange walking in during the middle of the day and seeing the desks filled. It made her feel useless and a little empty.

“Portia!” Martha, Aristos’s second assistant, sat behind her desk typing away.

Portia’s desk was empty, which brought her unexpected pleasure. She knew Martha had been bringing temps in here and there to compensate for Portia’s maternity leave, but it was nice to see that no one was occupying the personal area she spent up to sixty hours a week at.

“How’s it going?” Portia asked, giving Martha what could only be a side hug, due to her giant belly.

“Holy smokes. Look at you.” Martha pushed her glasses further up her nose and inspected Portia. “I swear you’ve grown to twice the size since you went on maternity leave.”

“I know. It’s crazy. Where’s—”

“What a nice surprise,” a deep voice said from behind Portia.

Electricity went down Portia’s back and into her toes. She took a moment to swallow. Two years working for Aristos and his voice still did crazy things to her.

She knew how wrong that was. The man was her boss, and she was in a relationship.

No, that last part was no longer true. Despite having called Liam’s phone about a dozen times, she hadn’t heard a peep from him since he’d taken off. If he did happen to show back up, hell would freeze over before she let him back into her life.

“Aristos.” Turning on her heel, she found him standing in the doorway to his office. Hands in his charcoal-gray suit’s pockets, he leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. His midnight-black hair curled against his neck, the ends kissing the olive skin right above his collar.

Aristos’s brown eyes tended to shine like they contained a secret, and today was no different. He gazed at Portia as if she