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I slide into the seat and offer an awkward smile. Everything about this man screamsmoney!
“Are you afraid of me?” he asks.
More like intimidated.“I don’t trust men in business.”
His eyebrows pull together. “And why is that?” He slowly lifts his cup to his lips and takes a small sip. I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as the hot liquid slides away.
“You know what they say about businessmen… they’re all psychopaths in disguise.”
To my surprise, he laughs. The sound is the loudest I have ever heard from him. “I can assure you that I am no psychopath.” He smiles at me before speaking again. “I know you need to return, so let me cut to the chase. I have an opportunity that will benefit us both.”
Oh. I feign indifference. “What would that be?”
Disappointment comes over his features – which I have only seen on his face when discussing a specific topic. “Remember the surrogate I told you we found?”
I nod.
“It didn’t work out, so we’re back to square one.”
My heart hurts for the couple. A few months ago, he opened up about his wife’s fertility issues and their struggles to find a suitable surrogate. Nobody seems good enough for them, and every potential offer has fallen through for some reason. Part of me wonders if it’s his wife because Xavier is a nice guy. He’s sweet and polite, so I can’t imagine him scaring someone off. That only leaves his wife; is she hostile towards the women being asked to do the one thing she cannot do?
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure you’ll find someone.”
When you’ve grown up around sketchy people, you learn to read faces and emotions really well. You have to, or else you get fucked over. That is how I instantly recognise the blend of pleading and hope in Xavier’s eyes as he watches me. He doesn’t have to ask anything because his eyes do it.
This time, it’s my turn to laugh.Is this guy serious?
“I know where this is going, so let me save you the time and effort, Mr Rivers. I’m sorry to hear about your struggles. I appreciate the offer but must politely decline. I can’t afford to be off from work.”
Not to mention, I would be fucking pregnant!
“The salary would be one hundred thousand pounds.”
I don’t let my eyes widen, or jaw drop in front of him.That money would save me right now.
I shake my head. “Thank you for the offer—“
“One hundred and fifty thousand pounds.”
Take it!
“Once again, thank you—“
“Two hundred and fifty thousand pounds.”
My brain tries to comprehend how many physical notes that is. I know it would solve almost all my problems, but to be pregnant is crazy.
“That wouldn’t include additional expenses. Clothing, food, travel, and private health care will be covered by us. Most people don’t earn that in five years, and you have an opportunity that will give you that within one.”
I should decline and walk away from this table, but the thought of paying off my debts and never having to strip again keeps my ass glued to the chair.
“Why me?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Why not? You look healthy. You are pleasant.” He pauses. “And I think you deserve a break. This allows you to escape the debt someone else left you in. Every day, I come in here and watch you work tirelessly. You have always served me well and were the first to decline my excessive tip. Most people see money and grab it with both hands.” He leans back in his chair and smiles at me. “I like you, and I think my wife will too.”
Could I really be pregnant? My first baby wouldn’t even be mine. But the money… two hundred and fifty thousand pounds.
He digs into his wallet and places two fifty-pound notes and a business card. “Take a few days to think about it. When you’ve decided, call that number,” he points to the card, “and we can arrange a meeting.” He stands up and straightens his tie. “I look forward to our next meeting, Savannah.”
