What. The. Actual. Fuck.
“You want me to do what?” I stuttered. I must have misheard him. I must have.
He frowned deeply at me as if annoyed to repeat himself.
“I want to have a baby, but I don’t have or want a wife.” His voice was gruff. “Simple as that.”
I licked my lips uncomfortably.
“Is this a joke?”
“No,” he snapped. “I don’t know if it’s obvious, but I’m not really the joking type.”
I recoiled.
“Fair enough. Does your husband want this baby, too?”
He scowled even more deeply. “I don’t have a husband, either.”
“Boyfriend?” I guessed. It was the most logical explanation.
“No.”
“Barren girlfriend?”
“No girlfriend either.” He looked angry that I was interrupting his pitch. Given the nature of his offer, however, I felt little guilt. “Can we stop with the twenty questions?”
“No, we can’t,” I replied. “I’m trying to understand if this is real, and what’s going on. And who you are and why you want this in the first place. Are you asexual?”
“I’m not asexual! I like women just fine,” he spit out uncomfortably. He was practically yelling at me. “They just don’t like me back,” he added in a slightly softer tone.
Considering his overgrown look and terrible manners, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Even girls who liked beards and didn’t mind eccentrics, like me, had to draw the line somewhere.
“The point,” he continued, “is that you have what I need: an egg and a working womb. And I have something to offer you in return. One million dollars.”
“I guess I can understand wanting a baby even without a partner,” I replied hesitantly, “but the baby won’t have any mother at all? Aren’t you worried about that?” I frowned. “I’m not saying that I’m at all going to agree to any of this, and I still feel like bringing this up unsolicited was weird as fuck but come on. Two parents are better than one, right?”
He bristled defensively. “Can you just read the contract and then I can answer your questions?” he said tightly.
I shook my head. “You didn’t expect me to ask questions?”
“Not this many.”
“I’m just getting started.” I cocked my head to the side. “You just asked me to have your baby. Surely I’m entitled to ask a few questions.”
He was continuing to glower, but he nodded. “Okay, okay. Ask away. I’ll try to answer.”
I nodded. Good. I had about a billion questions.
Not only did I not understand what was happening, but in the event that I ever actually considered the offer, I would want to make sure the baby would have a good life. He should be more concerned if I wasn’t asking them, invasive though they may be.
“Isn’t it bad for a baby to have a single parent?”
Connor growled out his answer to me. “He or she will have a grandfather, and plenty of uncles and cousins.” It seemed like every syllable cost him dearly. “I promise the baby will have the best life I can possibly provide.” Finally, he softened a little bit. “The fact that the baby would have no mother had bothered me at first, but all the research indicates that if a child has at least one involved, loving parent, they do fine. I’ll be both mother and father. I can do that. I want to.”
I nodded. That was actually an alright answer. “Okay. What about gender. Do you care whether it’s a boy or a girl?”
“No. I don’t care. I just care about the baby being healthy.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “This is all in the contract,” he added. “Do you want to read it?”
He snagged a copy of a document that seemed to be a ream of paper long that was sitting on the nearby coffee table and extended it to me.
I took it from his hands with ones that shook a little bit. I was still extremely nervous. The prospect of having someone’s baby was terrifying. But I couldn’t deny that I was interested in that money.
“I can’t believe this is happening right now,” I said. I searched his face for answers and saw nothing but shadows. “Is this real?”
“For the last time, yes. It’s real. You would be artificially inseminated, carry the baby for nine months, and then receive a million dollars,” I told her. “It’s that simple. If you want, I’ll leave you alone for a while to read the contract.” I can only imagine I looked overwhelmed. “Do you want me to go in the other room for a bit so you can read it?” he asked. “Or do you want me to have Luc take you home right now?”
“I--I don’t know,” I stuttered. I shook my head back and forth. “Why me? Why did you pick me?”
He blinked. “I felt like you might be interested.”
“I’ll read the contract, but I still want to talk to you,” I said, meeting his eyes again even though it was difficult. “If our DNA is going to potentially create a new human being, I feel like I should at least be comfortable with you, as a person. There are some things that contracts can’t accomplish. Like trust.”
“Ask your questions.”
I swallowed. That was hardly encouraging.
“Explain to me how this is going to work.”
He looked annoyed again. “It’s simple. You get pregnant, then you live here until the baby is born. You leave with your money. The baby stays here.”
“I would live here?” I stared around the room in disbelief. “Why here?”
He smiled, but it wasn’t a particularly reassuring smile. More of a baring of teeth. “So that I can make sure you’ve got the best care possible. I’ll have a chef, a personal trainer, a masseuse, everything you need to have a healthy pregnancy.”
I blinked. His tone was scary, but his words weren’t. “I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”
He smiled again. Was that meant to reassure me? It wasn’t working. “I’m trying to do this right.”
Something about the way he wanted me to live here made the whole arrangement seem a lot more challenging. I’d never not lived with my dad. We’d just moved back to LA from Austin, Texas. Then my mom had died. He wasn’t used to being alone…
I shifted uncomfortably. “I could still visit my family during the pregnancy, right? And do what I want to do? And have my privacy?”
“Of course. Within reason.”
I felt myself frowning. “What does that mean, within reason? You aren’t going to keep me from my family. I won’t be a prisoner, will I?”
One million dollars would change my life, but nine months was a long time. Having a baby was terrifying, but I had to be pragmatic. My mom would want me to be pragmatic.
Connor was oblivious to my inner turmoil. “You will not be a prisoner. All I mean is that I’ll expect you to abide by the contract. I won’t keep you from your family, but I’m going to request, for instance, that you don’t go rock climbing while pregnant. Or do illicit drugs.”
“I don’t do those things anyway.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“After the baby is born, I’ll never see him again, right? Not ever.”
I wasn’t sure if I knew if that was good or bad. I couldn’t even conceive of such a thing.
But Connor was nodding. “Right. That’s the agreement. No contact at all. You’ll sign all your parental rights away before the baby is ever conceived. It’ll be like the baby was never yours from a legal perspective.”
I swallowed. “No pictures even?”
“No pictures. Nothing. Isabelle, this part isn’t negotiable. It’s in the contract.”
I shifted uncomfortably in the big leather chair. The man in front of me was intimidating, but this was my body. My life. My potential child. I wasn’t going to wilt in front of him. “I can read the contract. I just wanted to hear you say it.” His face was unreadable. “Because I’ll never know this baby, I feel like I need to be sure you’re an okay person.”
“What can I do to convince you of that?” He asked me.
The questions spilled out of me al
l at once. “Tell me about yourself. Who are you? Why do you have all this money? Why do you want a baby at all? Why were you at the studio yesterday? Do you work in movies? What kind? Why have I never heard of you?” I inhaled a gulp of air before continuing. “Why me? Is it because I lost my job yesterday? How did you know? How did you track me down?”
Connor stared.
“I don’t feel comfortable telling you my life’s story.” His voice was ice cold.
I nodded. “Okay. Then I don’t feel comfortable having your baby.” I smiled politely. “Thanks for meeting with me.”
I rose and he hopped up too. The sudden movement of someone so large startled me and I shuffled back a few steps. He raised his hands in a way that I’m sure he thought was nonthreatening.
“Wait.” He said. “Please, Isabelle. Sit down. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I promise I’ll try.”
I paused and then sat. I was shocked by the change in his demeanor. He must really want this... “You will?” I asked. “Because all of your answers so far have been super cagey and weird.”
He sighed and drew what must have been a frustrated hand through his messy hair. “Look, I’m a very private person. Too private, probably. Practically a recluse. But I’m not a crazy person. I’m not a psychopath. I may not be normal, but I don’t have an ulterior motive. I just want to be a parent and have no partner to help me do that.”
“Why do you want to be a parent?” I asked. “I guess I don’t need your life story. I guess I only need that.”
“Why does anyone want to be a parent?” he challenged. “I don’t think it’s necessarily an entirely rational thing. I have this need to do it. To give life to someone, to see my line continue. To nurture a new life and see the world through their eyes. I don’t know how to explain it better than that.”
For a big, scary guy, that was a pretty thoughtful answer. I chewed on my bottom lip and considered my choices.
I could do nine months of anything. Couldn’t I? I could help someone become a father. That was a kind, good thing to do, wasn’t it? I’d never been so undecided.
“Why couldn’t I find you online?” I finally asked. “I couldn’t find any record of Connor Palczynski when I searched.”
Connor froze. His answer, when he finally spoke, was measured. “Palczynski is my legal name, but I don’t go by it publicly. I go by Connor Prince, or at least I used to.”
I felt my mouth drop open. Connor Prince. “The movie star?” I managed. “I remember you being in movies when I was little. Then you disappeared.”
“I didn’t actually go anywhere,” he said. “I just quit acting.” The blazing light in his blue eyes dimmed. “I needed a break.”
I stared at him. “I remember what happened,” I challenged. “You joined the military after 9-11. It was everywhere. You were America’s most patriotic man. Everybody loved you. Everybody thought you were amazing. You were this big Hollywood actor turned big American hero until….”
“Until what?” he asked. He looked almost bored.
I swallowed. “You almost murdered someone. An officer. They said you were involved in drug trafficking and then you beat up your commanding officer when he caught you. You almost killed him with your bare hands. You were dishonorably discharged and after that your career kind of, um, ended.”
He shrugged. “I’m sure that’s what you’ve heard.”
“Is it true?”
He stared at me. “I’m not the man I used to be.”
That wasn’t a denial. It wasn’t an admission either.
I needed a minute, but he seemed impatient for an answer.
“Okay,” I stuttered.
“Okay you accept my answer, or okay you’ll be my surrogate?” he pressed.
A knock on the door, followed by a number of angry stomps, interrupted my reply. My dad appeared at the door, red-faced and worried looking.
“Isabelle! What the hell are you doing?”
Connor
The Alternatives
“Dad?” Isabelle Schmidt stuttered. She rose from her seat, shaky and pale.
The intruder strode into my living room like he owned it. “Isabelle, what are you doing here? I got your text and drove over here as quickly as I could. You can’t just meet in the middle of the night with strange men who offer you money!” He turned to me. “She may not know who you are, but I do. And I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter.”
I bristled and rose. Mr. Schmidt, Maurice if the background check I had run on Isabelle was correct, was in my house. He was also at least six inches shorter than me, but he stared up at me without blinking. I guess now I knew where his daughter got her attitude from. “I don’t think I invited you to this meeting,” I growled. “I don’t appreciate being insulted in my own house.”
“Dad,” Isabelle said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “I’m okay. I didn’t want you to be worried, that’s why I texted you. It wasn’t because I needed a rescue.”
“Do you know who this is?” he hissed.
“It’s Connor Prince,” she said, looking from me to her dad and back again. “He used to be an actor.”
“He’s a very dangerous man,” Maurice said. He put his hand on top of Isabelle’s. “I don’t know what he said to lure you here, but we should go. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
Isabelle Schmidt was too young to remember my fantastically well-televised fall from grace, but her father definitely wasn’t. It wasn’t a very interesting story though—a public, dishonorable discharge, followed by general blacklisting and self-imposed exile. Isabelle could find all the details online soon enough. Everyone thought they knew what happened, but hardly anyone knew the truth. I wasn’t the monster everyone loved to hate. Well, not then anyway. I might have grown into him since then. I’d had a long time to simmer in my juices.
“I’d offer to step out to let you two chat, but you’re in my house,” I snapped. “So maybe it’s you two who should go.”
“That’s a great idea,” Maurice said, attempting to drag his daughter along behind him. “Izzie, come on.”
I blinked. Izzie? She went by Izzie? That was… cute.
Isabelle was as undaunted by her father’s outburst as she’d been by mine. “Dad, I think we should talk about this,” she said calmly. “Connor has made me an offer and I’m considering it.”
I froze. I was only mildly astounded. I’d thought there was a less than 1% chance of success with Isabelle Schmidt. I’d literally met her for thirty seconds on an elevator. She was beautiful, feminine, young, and vibrant. Energy and humor seemed to overflow from her. And her laugh right before the doors shut? She was everything I wasn’t. Everything I needed.
“What kind of an offer?” Maurice asked. He looked horrified.
“Not whatever you’re thinking,” I snapped. He glared back at me suspiciously.
He obviously thought I’d propositioned his daughter. I mean, I had propositioned her. But not for sex. Unless you counted artificial insemination, which you really shouldn’t. It was a decidedly unsexy process.
“He wants me to be his surrogate,” Isabelle said. “He wants a baby. I’d donate the egg and carry the baby, and then he’d pay me.”
Maurice looked like he wanted to faint.
“I think we should go now,” he managed. “There’s no way you’re doing that.”
He sounded utterly disgusted.
“Dad, he’s offering me a million dollars,” she said. “It’s too much money just to brush it off.”
“No. It isn’t. I can brush that off easily. I don’t care if he’s offering you a billion dollars. My grandchildren are not for sale.”
“This would not be your grandchild,” I growled. “This baby would be mine, and mine alone.”
Maurice’s frown deepened. Isabelle got between the two of us, but Maurice just went around her to stare at me.
“That’s not how babies work,” Maurice told me. “it takes two to create a baby. The baby’s moth
er would be Isabelle. That makes the child, I’m sorry, the hypothetical child, my grandkid.”
Isabelle shook her head. “No. Dad, he’s right. It wouldn’t be your grandchild. It wouldn’t be my baby, either. I’d just be helping to bring it into the world. Surrogacy can be nice, I think.” She looked conflicted. “I know it sounds weird, and obviously this is not the place to discuss it, but I’m seriously considering this.”
She was? Something in my cold, dead heart leapt. I’d been looking for the right surrogate for three long years. I turned to stare at her, and she stumbled backward at the force of my expression.
“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” I told her.
Her full lips parted in shock. “I do mean it,” she stuttered. “I need to think about it some more, sleep on it, review the contract, but—”
“But that’s insanity and we’re leaving now,” Maurice interrupted. “Right now. Izzie, come on.”
“Dad, I’ll go,” Isabelle said. “But you have to understand that this is my decision. Mine. I’m an adult. I’d be doing this for my own reasons. You might not like the choice I make, but you’re going to have to respect it. No matter what it is.”
I respected Isabelle for standing up to him, and to me. She really was something. But I figured as soon as Maurice got her away from here, he’d convince her not to sign the contract.
I couldn’t do anything but let them go. Ultimately, it was Isabelle who would make the choice and not her father, but I hated to think that he might talk her out of it. I’d been so close…
Isabelle let her dad drag her to the threshold, but she paused and looked back at me.
“When do I need to give you an answer?” she asked.
I blinked. “There’s no deadline.” I’d already been waiting three years for someone to even make this offer to. And none of my prospects had been half as promising as Isabelle. She was going to say no, but at least I’d done everything I could. “Take your time.”
Isabelle
The Advice
“Tell her how insane this is,” my dad insisted, staring at his sister. “She’s not listening to me, but maybe she’ll listen to a lawyer. Or at least her aunt.”
Baby and the Beast Page 3
