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One of Pierce’s dark eyebrows rose slightly. “You disagree?”
I wanted to gloat about the fact that the contract didn’t require anything. That I could coast for six months without doing anything and collect my money. But of course, I hadn’t signed the contract yet, so I didn’t want to spill the beans.
“We’ll see how things go,” I said.
Pierce’s chiseled chest shuddered as he laughed. “You think you’re getting one over on me. Because the contract doesn’t require you to actually have sex with me.”
I tried to hide my surprise. “So you’re aware?”
“Of course I am. It was specifically written up that way. My lawyers are very, very good at what they do.”
I felt my annoyance rising again. “You’re that cocky? You think I’ll cave and sleep with you even though I don’t have to?”
“I don’t think anything, Melinda.”
“Then why offer the contract?”
He shrugged. “Can you move a foot to your left? You’re blocking the light.”
Tristan returned with the proper paperwork. I gave it another quick read-through to make sure nothing had been changed, then initialed every page and signed at the end. Pierce sat up in his chair and did the same, then shook my hand again.
“Welcome to the Bellerophon. I’m sure you’re going to have a good time with us.”
“I’m sure I will.”
“Andrew will give you a proper tour of the boat’s amenities,” Tristan told me. He sat on the chair next to Pierce and pulled out a tablet device. “I would like to discuss the way the markets have reacted to the new Taiwan semiconductor news…”
And just like that, I was already forgotten.
“Glad you’re with us,” Andrew told me while leading me away from the sun deck. “Honestly, Pierce keeps things pretty casual around here. I think you’re going to have a good time.”
“Pierce?” I said. “Earlier, you and Tristan were calling him Mr. Benning.”
Andrew gave me that same boyish smile. “We only call him Mr. Benning when we’re around visitors. Now that you’re officially part of his retinue for the next six months, I can drop the act.”
His retinue. That made it sound like this was routine. “How many women has Pierce extended this offer to before me?”
“None,” Andrew replied.
I snorted. “Sure.”
He turned, frowning at me. “You can believe whatever you want, but it’s true. We’ve spent almost two years reviewing surrogate candidates around the world. You’re the first woman up to our standards.”
“Your standards? Plural?”
Andrew shrugged. “Pierce leans on me and Tristan for advice, sometimes. Here’s the primary dining room, which doesn’t get much use since we usually take all meals in the lounge or office…”
The tour of the yacht took ten minutes. Kitchen, two different lounges, even an entertainment room with a pull-down projector screen for watching movies. Five spacious bedrooms, each with a private bath. The bottom two decks, Andrew explained, were for the crew and servants.
Andrew opened one door. “And this is your room.” I gawked as we stepped inside; it was larger than my apartment back home. Floor-to-ceiling windows covered one entire wall, giving me a view of the sprawling blue ocean. The furniture—queen sized bed, bedside tables, two dressers, a coffee table, and two lounge chairs—were sleek and modern. The bathroom was equally impressive, with a standalone porcelain tub and a dedicated shower with half a dozen nozzles.
“The guest book next to the bed has everything you need, including access to the shipboard Wi-Fi,” Andrew explained. “You’re free to do whatever you want until dinner. That’s when Tristan is going to give an itinerary for the next week.”
“What about my stuff?” I asked, opening one of the dressers. It was empty.
“As we said: we have people acquiring everything you may need from your apartment.”
“They’re going to break in?”
