“Why would you wear a push-up bra every day when you can get your breasts done?” she asked. Hell if I knew. I didn’t wear bras, push up or otherwise.
“A bra would be a hell of a lot cheaper,” I said.
“Men,” she said, giggling. I looked at the time on my watch and groaned internally. It was eight thirty-one. It was eight twenty-six the last time that I checked. Anna was, putting it delicately, the worst date that I had been on in a while. No offense to the girl, I mean, there were probably people who did want to hear her discuss the pros and cons of overseas plastic surgery, but I wasn’t one of them. She hadn’t really stopped talking since the date started and I was still yet to identify anything that we had in common.
We had just had our appetizers. Me, the scallops and her, an elaborate, tiny little salad which she hadn’t finished. The waiter came up, cleared our table and served up our entrees. I picked the steak and she was having salmon. The brief intrusion meant we didn’t have to say anything for a few seconds. When the waiter left, I tried to save the situation.
“How’s your food?” I asked.
She picked at the salmon. “I only really eat seafood in Japan. I think they’re the only ones who really do it right, you know?”
“What do you eat in the States?” I asked.
“Oh,” she said, spearing a piece of the meat and looking at me, “I don’t cook. My chef takes care of that.”
She worked hard for her figure, that much was apparent. The breasts were a surgical addition. That wasn’t a guess, she actually told me, but she worked out every day and had access to the most exclusive beauty treatments that money could buy. I wasn’t knocking it, she was gorgeous. Her hair was beautifully styled; rich, honey blonde. Her makeup made her hazel eyes pop and her skin glowed. She was a stunner but so was every other girl that my mother had set me up with. They all looked like models. They all had an exquisite pedigree and expensive, lavish lifestyles.
Yeah, but they were all dull as a bucket of paint. They had never had to work a day in their lives. They had a crew of staff waiting on them hand and foot. They were sheltered, spoiled and worst of all, boring.
Give her a chance, I thought. It’s not her fault she grew up privileged and sheltered.
Oh, come on, it wasn’t really that, was it? Anna was beautiful, worldly and our parents probably knew each other. She just wasn’t her.
“So, you mentioned Japan. You must travel a lot,” I said.
“Not really to Japan that much. I can’t deal with how many people don’t speak English.” I stared at her.
“It’s Japan. Why should they speak English?”
“It’s the twenty-first century. If they want foreigners to come to their country they should probably start.”
Right there. That was the moment that I broke. I stood up. Anna’s eyes widened, looking at me.
“What are you doing? Where are you going?”
Why was I standing? Because I would rather be getting a root canal than be here on this date with her. I would rather mow a football field-sized lawn one blade of grass at a time than be here on this date with her. It didn’t matter how many women my mother talked into going out with me. Unless one of them was her, I didn’t care. Chances were I’d never find her again anyway. Why suffer with another one of my mother’s perfect-on-paper picks when none of them would ever come close?
I pulled my wallet out and threw four hundred-dollar bills on the table. That would cover the meal and the bottle of wine that was sitting, half full in the middle of the table.
“I’m going home, Anna,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because you have convinced me to stay single for the rest of my life.” Her mouth fell open. I didn’t wait around to hear what colorful names she had to call me but no doubt she had a few. It wasn’t like me to walk out on dinner with a date but at this point, I would rather just take my mother’s disappointed phone call than spend another minute with Annaliese Barringer. Her father started a clothing store that eventually sold to LVMH for a cool couple billion. She was a socialite who had been running in powerful circles her whole life. She was perfect, my mother said when she was telling me about her.
They were all fucking perfect. They were all gorgeous, all went to the right schools, had the right, powerful friends and kept the right company. I didn’t care about any of those things. I wanted her but I had a better chance of getting struck by lightning than I had of that happening again.
I walked out of the restaurant. I didn’t live that far away so I gave Barry my driver the night off. I shoved my hands into my pockets. It was coming. If Anna was quick then the call was coming tonight. If she wasn’t, then tomorrow at the latest. My mother was going to call me a fool for letting someone as beautiful and sweet as Annaliese go. She’d tell me off for walking out on the date and say it was only a matter of time before women like that didn’t even want to look at me anymore.
Good. I didn’t want to look at them either.
Then she’d get into the meat; the real reason that she was mad. It didn’t matter that I didn’t like her like Annaliese like that, it mattered that I was the head of the Hampton family since the Duke, my dad had died. I had the title. Someone had to inherit the duchy after me and all the baggage and money that came with it. She liked to remind me like there was any way in hell that I could forget. Annaliese would make a perfect duchess. She’d agree to have a couple of kids so long as she could get her body back afterward and there you go. The Hampton fortune and family name would live to see another generation. She’d make a perfect duchess alright, for someone else, but not me.
I walked the steps up to my townhouse and let myself in. There was music coming from the living room. I walked through the entryway to the living room, the music getting louder. My place was modern but classic. Leather furniture, but a smart TV. Old school but modern where it counted. I kept my vinyl collection and record player there which Niall, my cousin constantly made me reconsider.
“You having fun in here, fucking cat burglar,” I said, over the music. Niall looked up from the handful of records he was thumbing through. He was sitting on one of the leather armchairs like an emperor with a tumbler of scotch in his other hand.
“You know, if you don’t want me to come by, you should really change your passcode,” he said. I walked over and took the drink from him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Not next to the vinyl. They’re worth more than your whole life,” I said, taking a swig from the glass. The liquid burned pleasantly down my throat.
“Pocket’s a little light there, Charlie? Can’t afford for each of us to have our own drink?” he snarked. I put the tumbler down and walked over to the bar, giving myself a generous pour of the amber liquid and throwing it down my throat. Niall laughed.
“Thirsty?” he asked.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Another date with one of your mum’s Stepford socialites?” he asked. I scoffed. “I knew it. Who was it this time? Maybe I know her.”
“Barringer. Annaliese. Blonde. Pretty girl.”
“But still not good enough for the Duke I see,” he teased.
“If you want her number just tell me,” I said, grinning.
“When are you going to stop doing this shit? You hate those dates. You’ve never lasted more than a single date with any of those women.”
“Dating is a numbers game these days. Any day now, I’ll meet the woman of my dreams and we won’t have to have this conversation anymore.” I poured myself another drink.
“You’re wasting your time and you’re wasting theirs.”
“I need to get married, Niall. I need an heir. If I don’t have a kid, the title and the estate go to you and the whole world burns.”
Niall laughed. “Keep it. Knock up the next girl your mother sets you up with. I don’t want it.”
“You taking it off my hands would solve all of my problems,” I said.
“Too bad you can�
��t just have a baby without finding a wife first,” he said.
“Yeah. It doesn’t work like that.”
“How about this,” he said, getting up. “We head out to the club and find a couple of wives-for-the-night to help you get your numbers up?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m good. You go on. Have fun.” Niall sighed but he didn’t try to convince me. His usual recipe for a good time was going out clubbing and he always asked me to join him, even though I never really went with him anymore. I didn’t want a wife-for-the-night. The one woman that I would want to be with wouldn’t be hanging out at a club anyway.
I finished my second drink as he headed out for the club. I went upstairs and took a shower. It wasn’t even ten but I was done. I dried my hair and checked my phone to make sure I didn’t have any messages from my mother yet. Annaliese Barringer just wasn’t the one. Niall was right. Taking the wife bit out of the equation would solve all of my problems. It wasn’t impossible to have a kid without finding a woman first. It was difficult, but it wasn’t impossible. How much did the marriage part matter anyway? The heir was what they needed. How hard could it be to get my hands on one of those?
2
Brenna
I squinted. No, that number could not be right.
I knew that it would be high but not this fucking high. I made less than this in a year. I made less than this in five years. I put the bill down and picked up my coffee. I had prepared breakfast but the bill had completely ruined my appetite. Even with insurance, the cost of my mother’s treatment would still come to an arm and a leg. My arm and my leg.
I could just not pay. I didn’t have the money, that was probably what was going to happen. If I didn’t pay though, they’d stop treating her. I looked over at my mother, a few feet away in the living room. She had gotten up early this morning and dozed off again in the armchair - a side effect of her new treatment. She was responding well to it. It was getting rid of the cancer but it wore her out. She’d be asleep almost sixteen hours of the day. She was still in a lot of pain though so if anything, I was glad she didn’t have to stay awake through it.
She looked so small on the couch. The brunette hair I had gotten from her was short now and her dark eyes, so full of life were closed most of the time. She had lost considerable weight since starting the treatments but besides the fatigue, she was still alert and as active as she could possibly be considering the circumstances. Cancer sucked. It had turned my mother from an active, lively woman in her fifties to someone who slept the day away, not because she wanted to but because she literally lacked the energy to keep her eyes open.
I was tired too but that was for other reasons. I looked at the clock.
Shit.
I threw the rest of my lukewarm coffee back then ran out of the kitchen and grabbed my purse off the couch. I kissed my mother on the forehead, careful not to wake her, and then left the tiny apartment. I made a dash for the subway. I was going to be late. I spent too much time staring at my mother’s bill.
I was panting when I got to work, barely on time. I hustled to my desk like nothing happened. I didn’t need to give them a reason to fire me. I had been an accountant with my company for a few years now, since getting out of college. Accounting was just as glamorous as it sounded but it made me enough to pay for a place in the city and take care of both myself and my mother which was all I needed to be able to do. In addition to that, my best friend Maggie worked for the same company which made the hours go by faster.
At lunch, I headed downstairs. There was a deli that Maggie and I hit almost every day. She was waiting in the lobby of the building as I came out of the elevator.
“Hey girl,” Maggie chirped. Usually seeing her was enough to put me in a better mood but today was different.
“You’re in a good mood. Why?” I grumbled. Her brown eyes fell.
“Uh-oh,” she said as we entered the deli. We ordered our regulars, a roast pork sandwich for me and a Cobb salad for Maggie. “Bad news?” she asked when we were settled in our seats.
“I got a bill from the hospital,” I said.
“Oh no. How high is it?”
“High enough that I’ll never get done paying it in this lifetime.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I have nothing. I’ve been thinking about it all day. I have a job but they don’t pay me nearly enough to pay for it. I was thinking of getting a second job.”
“When the hell would you do it? All you do is work and take care of your mother anyway.”
“If I want her around for much longer, I’m gonna have to figure something out,” I said.
“Can’t you get Jameson to up your pay?” she suggested.
“He’d have to up my pay by a factor of five thousand for it to be enough.”
“Have you ever asked for a raise?”
I hadn’t in the past. I had gotten small promotions over the years but I had never asked Jameson, our boss to raise my pay.
“Enough about me and my stuff. What about you?” I asked. Maggie beamed.
“What about me?” she asked. I smiled at her. We were so different yet so the same in so many ways. Her personality was reserved and shy and I was a little more fiery. She was introverted and I was anything but. Today, her flame-red hair was down around her shoulders and chest. She wore a midi-length skirt with a white blouse tucked into it which showcased her generous figure. Both of us were curvy girls. When we met, she put me on to so many amazing online stores that actually stocked cute plus-size clothes. She always looked drop-dead gorgeous and of course, it helped that she had the face of a dreamland pixie fairy.
“Did you end up going on a date with that guy?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I’m not trying to get into another relationship right now.”
“No one said anything about a relationship. Going on a date doesn’t have to lead to anything. It can just be a fun night out.”
“Why don’t you take your own advice then?” she asked. I hadn’t been on a date in too long to remember but that was different. I had a sick mother to take care of. She was nervous after the spectacular way her last relationship ended and I understood that but I hated seeing her sink into herself the way that she had. She was so loyal and loving, anyone would be lucky to have her in their life, provided they treated her right in return.
We headed back to the office when lunch was over. After a pitstop at my desk, I went to Jameson’s office. I knocked at the door and waited for a reply. Jameson yelled from the inside for me to come in. He was sitting at his desk and he smiled when he saw me.
“Good afternoon Brenna,” he said. I smiled and walked up to his desk. Eyes up, I thought, watching his eyes try and fail to stay on my face. It was something I was used to, from him and from men in general. That was just what happened when you had double Ds.
“Good afternoon Mr. Jackson.” I sat in the chair across from him.
He leaned forward. “What can I do for you?”
“I came to discuss the possibility of a raise,” I said. Jameson’s eyes widened. I kept going so I didn’t lose momentum and so he didn’t say anything to slow me down. “I have been working here with the company for the last three years. In that time, I’ve taken on longer hours and more responsibilities, but my wages do not reflect that.” He opened his mouth, but I kept talking. “My mother is sick. She’s currently fighting cancer. As you know, chemo and radiation are expensive, and insurance doesn’t cover it all. I know that she can fight this, but I can’t do anything if I can’t even pay for the treatment.”
His expression softened. I felt like I had grounds enough to ask for a raise without having to talk about my mother but I wanted to make sure that if he did say no, I had laid everything out on the table and there was nothing else I could have done. He stood and came around his desk. I was scared for a minute that he was going to try and hug me but he just placed a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said. He sq
ueezed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
“I can't imagine how difficult that has been for you and your family.” Another squeeze. I tried to pull away but his hand was firm.
“I value you as an employee here. It's been a joy to have you as part of the team. In the future, I look forward to working even closer together,” he said. One more squeeze and then he released my shoulder. I didn’t think I liked the way that sounded but I was pretty sure I had just gotten him to agree to give me more money.
“Thank you for your consideration,” I said. I got up and nodded politely at him. I walked out, feeling his eyes on my ass. He had never crossed a line before, but boy did he love to toe it. I stopped at my desk for a bit before going to the break room for a coffee. I was alone. I leaned on the counter, blowing on my coffee to cool it while browsing the paper someone left in there. I flipped mindlessly through the pages, looking for the comics. They weren’t in there. I kept flipping for something to look at and landed on the classifieds.
I chuckled at a couple of listings for massage services. Right, not the kind of massage you got at a high-end spa, that was for sure. A heading in all caps caught my eye. SURROGATES NEEDED. I put my coffee down and picked the paper up. The next thing I saw was the payment.
Fifty thousand dollars.
Well, if they wanted to get my attention, they had it. I scanned the ad. Gestational surrogate wanted. Mentally and physically healthy woman between the ages of twenty-three and thirty-three. History of childbirth preferable. A phone number was listed beneath.
Talk about a sign. Fifty thousand dollars was just what I needed. It would let me pay for my mother’s treatments. It probably wouldn’t cover the whole thing but this kind of windfall would go a long way before I needed to start looking for something else on top of it. I had never gotten fifty thousand dollars for nine months of work before. It was just having someone’s baby. I could do that.
Could I do that?
I had never thought about doing that. I could, you know, theoretically. I was healthy and I was between twenty-six. I hadn’t had a child before but I wasn’t on birth control, never been in my life, I didn’t smoke or do drugs and I didn’t have conditions that would make it difficult for me to carry a baby. I wasn’t in a relationship so it wouldn’t be weird for me to be pregnant right now. I had the time to be pregnant since I hadn’t had a social life since my mother had gotten sick. Maybe it would even be fun. I’d get to experience pregnancy and childbirth and at the end of it, I would have fifty thousand dollars. In theory, I could do it. Reality, however, was a different story.
Admit You Miss Me: A Surrogate Pregnancy Romance (Irresistible Billionaires Book 1) Page 2
