AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Staying with you?” I stammered. “On your yacht?”
“And my other residences, yes,” Pierce answered. “I have several trips planned in the next six months. You will, of course, accompany me wherever I go.”
“Oh, of course,” I said sarcastically. “What about my apartment? Or my job? You just expect me to drop everything to follow you around to all your rich-person places?”
Pierce gave me a small smile. “Rich-person places. I like that.”
“You are currently unemployed,” Tristan said formally. “And as for your apartment, we will take care of all financial responsibilities you may have for the duration of the contract. Any belongings you may need will be retrieved from your apartment in Fox Point. We have men prepared to gather such things once the contract is signed.”
“Men?” I blurted out. “What do you mean, you have men prepared? Like, you just have men on retainer ready to loot my apartment? To sift through my underwear drawer like perverts?”
Tristan cleared his throat. “I use the term men in the colloquial sense. I can assure you it will be a woman who handles all of your clothing arrangements, both at your apartment and anything else that needs to be acquired at a later time.”
I tried not to laugh in their faces. This was unbelievable. I felt like I was being pranked, but even this scenario seemed too outrageous for that. Pierce was calmly staring at me from across the desk as if this was all normal.
But what frustrated me the most was how they all acted like it was a foregone conclusion. That I was guaranteed to sign the contract. Like I had no say in the matter. My anger continued to rise, and I finally let some of it out.
“You picked me out of the database like a mail-order bride. You did it before I was even in the database! What about me caught your attention? Did you like my hair?” I gave it a toss. “Is it my tits you want to fuck? Huh?”
“This has nothing to do with sex,” Pierce said calmly. Too calmly.
I smacked the second folder with my palm. “Apparently, it has everything to do with sex! So what was it? What drew you to me? Have you had your men stalking me for the past two weeks, snapping photos whenever I bend over?”
“You graduated summa cum laude from Brown with a double-major in Business Administration and Marketing. You were a walk-on for the Brown women’s soccer team, and were a starting forward all four years. In high school, you were a varsity athlete in soccer, softball, basketball, and golf.”
The sudden flurry of information caught me off guard. “I never got my varsity letter in basketball. I was splitting time with soccer, and never played a full season.”
“You played a full season your sophomore year,” Tristan corrected from his place next to the desk. “However, your coach chose not to award you a varsity letter upon the conclusion of the season.”
“Thanks for telling me my own history, creep,” I muttered.
“Apparently, your basketball coach didn’t like your attitude,” Pierce said.
I turned back to him. “It’s just as creepy when you do it, no matter how much money you have.”
Pierce spread his large hands. “Nevertheless, we are answering your question. This was why I chose you to be my surrogate. You’re incredibly intelligent. You are fiercely independent. You’re elite at a number of sports. You have no family history of heart disease, dementia, or diabetes. And, to put it bluntly, you’re attractive. You’re the perfect surrogate for my future child.”
I ignored the pulse of satisfaction that came from the flattery. “And there’s no Mrs. Benning involved in all of this?”
“I am unmarried,” Pierce confirmed. “The child will be mine alone.”
I made myself smile cruelly. “Can’t find a woman to be the mother of your children, even though you’re so rich you have your own yacht? Not a good sign, if you ask me.”
“I can see what your basketball coach thought about your attitude,” Tristan said curtly.
I laughed bitterly. “This is really happening? You’re serious?”
“As I said: I am a serious man,” Pierce replied coolly.
“I didn’t come here to be a glorified prostitute,” I said.
“Then you are quite welcome to choose the first, more traditional, contract.” Tristan slid the first folder closer, as if I couldn’t tell which he meant. “And we will be perfectly happy with that. But I think you will find the second contract far more lucrative.”
“I don’t care.”
Tristan coughed, flipped open the folder, and pointed to a line halfway down the page.
“I said I don’t care,” I repeated. And I meant it. I didn’t want to be a part of whatever this situation was, no matter how much money they offered. But my eyes locked onto his finger automatically, and I saw the number.
