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I try to turn back to my work, but the woman answers him, and I find myself listening again. “We definitely have some questions first. I won’t lie, Lake. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your offer the entire time you were gone. Gods, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I know it’s a huge risk for you, and for you to be willing to do something so selfless . . . Both of us are really touched.”
Lake looks down, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s not much of a risk. Yes, things went wrong toward the end of River’s pregnancy, but we have more knowledge now. And since this will be planned, the Omega Project and whatever doctors of our choosing will be with us every step of the way. I feel very comfortable with that portion of this.”
My mind is racing, and I give up all pretense of working. My eyes are glued to Lake’s mouth, the way his lips move as he is speaking. I know he’s not trying to be, but he looks so freaking sexy, and all I’m doing is imagining what else those lips can do.
The woman reaches out and squeezes Lake’s hand. “What are your concerns, honey? Let’s start there since you’d be the one carrying the child. If there are any doubts, we should start there.”
Carrying the child? While there’s a lot of speculation, the Simmons brothers never confirmed whether Lake also had the Omega gene. Most of the rumors assumed he must, identical twins after all, but nothing has been proven. If I’m understanding the conversation, then he must also be an Omega. My dick twitches again, apparently really enjoying that idea. I’m not sure why, I never even considered having kids of my own, but it brings out a possessive streak in me I didn’t know I have. Which, I know, makes no sense, but whatever.
Lake’s lips thin as he takes a sip of his coffee. “It’s not exactly a doubt, but I am concerned about my job. As you saw, I do have to travel last minute, and it’s often out of the country. I am willing to speak to my boss about it, but I’m not sure how receptive he will be. The man is known for being sexist and giving women a hard time concerning maternity leave and modified assignments. I doubt he’ll be more accommodating with me. It was his supervisors that pretty much forced him not to fire me when everything happened with River. That, and I know too much.”
For the first time since the conversation started, the other guy contributes, laughing as he speaks. “Jesus, you sound like a fucking spy, Lake.”
Lake just shrugs, but something shines in his eyes. The other guy continues, “Personally, that and Zoe’s new role are the only two things that are keeping me from saying yes outright. Zo and I discussed this a lot, and the more we spoke, the more we decided we would love for you to be our surrogate, and sooner rather than later, but this role withA Chorus Lineis contracted for at least a year. Depending on the timing, neither of us want her to be stuck doing shows eight times a week and not have a chance to bond with the baby. And I won’t lie, the travel makes me nervous. I don’t want you to be on the other side of the fucking world with no way to contact us when you go into labor.”
Lake’s face is serious. “It’s a valid concern.”
“How about this? You said you contacted the doctor in charge of the Omega Project, right?”
“Dr. Rooke, yes. I actually have to reach out to him today. He called while I was away.”
“Ok, so let’s see if he’s willing to meet with us, along with the fertility doctor, and OB or whoever else would be involved with this. We can see how valid this possibility really is, have all the uncertainties and dangers laid out for us. If they believe it’s plausible for you to carry our child, we can then make decisions on timing and if there’s a way for you to get your assignments modified without causing issues. But honestly, those are secondary right now. We need to make sure it can even happen.”
Lake seems excited about this. “So, if all of the details are worked out, you’d actually want me to be a surrogate for you?”
The woman, Zoe, squeezes Lake’s hand again. I feel a stab of irrational jealousy and push it down. “Yes, sweetie, we’re honored you offered, and we’d love for you to be our surrogate.”
The conversation dies down after that, and I manage to get a couple pages of edits done while still keeping an eye on them. I’m hoping to catch Lake, either alone or as they’re leaving. I don’t want to just walk up to their table if I can help it.
Finally, they begin to clean up their empty cups and start to head out. The couple scoots out of the booth first, but Lake is following them to the door, and I know it’s now or never. I jump to my feet and follow them to the exit of the coffee shop. Right as the man’s hand is on the door, I call out, “Lake?”
The three of them turn around, and instantly I see Lake’s expression turn from questioning to hard. The guy lets the door close and comes to stand next to Lake. Zoe is shooting daggers at me already.
At first, I’m thrown by their instant hostility. I mean, nothing about them has been aggressive before this. But then I remember how much the brothers have been harassed by the media, and I realize that they’re suspicious.
“Yes?” Lake asks, his voice stern.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll be quick.”
The man’s eyes narrow. “Listen, buddy, he’s not answering any questions. Don’t you have someone else to harass?”
I glare at the man. I’m not someone who’s easily intimidated, and besides, I’m speaking to Lake, not him. I’m not going anywhere unless Lake says so. “I’m not sure who you think I am, but I’m not a reporter or any other kind of media. My name is Evander Cirillo.”
It’s clear the name means nothing to Lake, but he gestures for me to continue. “You don’t know me, but you do know my father.”
I see confusion cross his face. From this close, I can see his eyes are brown, but there are specks of gold throughout. It’s so mesmerizing that it’s hard to keep focus on the conversation.
“You father?” he finally asks.
“Yes, I know this is nuts, but just hear me out, ok? My dad, his name is Eric Cirillo.”
Again, no recognition, which makes sense. I doubt my dad told him his name back then, and even if he did, it makes sense that a scared eight-year-old boy wouldn’t remember.
“When you were young, you met my dad. We both heard the story you told on TV to that reporter. The one about what your dad tried to do to you and how the drug dealer brought you back to your mom.” I don’t mention any details; it’s not really my place.
Lake’s expression darkens, and his friends move closer to him, but he does nod. “That’s my dad. You changed his life that day. He stopped dealing drugs, got clean and legitimate. He started to be the dad to me I always wished he were before that. I know you don’t owe either of us anything, but after we saw you on TV, both my dad and I just wanted to reach out to you, tell you thank you. I know it’s probably a crappy memory for you, but I thought you deserved to know you had an impact, and there hasn’t been a day that has gone by in the last twenty years that my dad hasn’t thought about you and prayed you were safe.”
I shrug, not sure really where to go next. Lake’s just staring at me, and it doesn’t seem like the conversation is going the way I hoped it would. “Anyway, that’s all. I’m sorry to take up your time.” I give them all a small smile and nod. “Have a good day.” I turn awkwardly back to my table, hoping they walk out the door and I can just forget the whole thing.
