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“Her demeanor is not a negative trait, as you seem to think. It is one of the reasons I chose her. She is an impulsive woman, and not easily intimidated. I don’t want a sycophant who fawns over me to carry my child, Tristan. I want someone who isn’t afraid to stand up to a man like me.”
I had known Pierce long enough to see he would not budge. I dipped my head in acceptance.
Pierce turned back to his laptop. “Please make her feel welcome when she returns.”
I stiffened. “I would never do otherwise.”
As I exited Pierce’s office, I could not help but feel annoyed. This woman had to be convinced to be Pierce Benning’s surrogate? To be taken care of and pampered for months, living the life of a billionaire? Basically a six-month vacation without any responsibility, and given significant monetary compensation for the privilege?
Pierce may have been attracted to her stubbornness, but I disliked uncertainty. We needed a candidate who was eager. Enthusiastic. I suspected Andrew felt the same.
Yet this was Pierce’s decision. We all served at his pleasure.
I exited out into the open ocean air just as the helicopter was descending for the second time that morning. I felt a sense of deja vu as the door opened and she stepped out, ducking her head as she passed beneath the rotors.
“Welcome back,” I said dryly.
Melinda rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to act so smug about it.”
“Let me assure you: I am not feeling smug about any of this,” I replied curtly.
“So you have resting smug face. I don’t know if that’s better, or worse.”
“Better, surely.”
“If you say so.”
“Right this way,” I said, leading her back down into the depths of the yacht. The other servants aboard the Bellerophon glanced up at her in passing. I wondered what they were thinking about the situation. None of them would know the reason Ms. Norris was here, but they would be curious indeed to see a visitor land a second time so soon after the first.
“Here are the two contracts,” I said, once we had arrived in the smaller study. “If you have any concerns or questions, I am at your disposal.”
She sat down and opened the first, more traditional, contract. “You’ve updated the contract with the new offer.”
“I printed new copies, yes.”
“Is that what the personal assistant to a billionaire does?” she asked without looking up. “Running to and from the printer?”
“I handle a number of tasks for Mr. Benning, both great and small.”
“I’m guessing this falls into the latter category.”
“On the contrary,” I replied. “This is of the utmost importance to Mr. Benning. That is why I am here to answer your questions instead of a member of his legal team.”
Melinda grunted at that as she read the contract. Then she closed the folder, slid it away, and opened the second offer.
“What happens if I don’t get pregnant?” she asked.
“You have the option to renew the contract for a second six-month period, or leave. In either case, you will still be paid the base sum listed on page two.”
“I don’t see any requirements listed in here.”
“Requirements?”
“Sexual requirements,” she said bluntly. “It doesn’t say how often I need to sleep with Mr. Benning.”
I shook my head. “Everything is consensual, of course. There are no quotas or specific requirements surrounding the conception of Mr. Benning’s hypothetical child.”
Melinda looked up at me. “So I could sign the contract, refuse to sleep with him, and relax here and collect the money when the six months is up?”
