by Holly Rayner
The lobby was empty except for the receptionist who sat behind her desk, typing away at her computer. She didn’t even bother to look up when Olivia walked up.
“You can have a seat over there, Olivia,” she said, motioning to one of the chairs.
“How did you know my…?” Olivia’s voice tapered off as she started to make her way to the chairs.
“The CEO had dossiers made for each of the applicants. I recognized your picture,” the secretary said. She smiled, despite not turning away from the computer screen. Her hair was in a neat bun, which instantly made Olivia panic and rethink her hairstyle choice. Should she have put all of her hair up? Did she look professional enough?
She sat down in one of the chairs and sighed. She didn’t even know what this whole thing entailed, the ad on the job site had been so vague, but after being let go from her admin job only two weeks earlier, she was desperate to find something else to replace it. Bill collectors had been calling her for months, even when she’d had a job. Now that she didn’t have a source of income, they were incessant.
As she pondered over her situation, the sound of a door opening caught her attention—except that it wasn’t coming from the office marked with the name of the CEO, Sheikh Yasin bin Taab. Instead, it was the elevator door. A familiar-looking man walked in and quietly chatted with the receptionist.
It only took Olivia a moment before she realized just who it was: the man that had bumped into her when she was on her way to the laundromat, on his phone and not paying attention to where he was going. She watched him and the receptionist closely. Was he here as an applicant for the job also? The listing specifically stated that the applicants needed to be women. What was this guy doing here?
The receptionist nodded toward the seating area. Olivia watched the man’s head nod in response, his back still to her. He turned around and walked toward her, and she was surprised to see that he was much more handsome than she remembered. He was tall, with an athletic build that she could ascertain from his tailored suit. She looked up into his dark eyes as he got closer.
He offered her a friendly smile and said, “Hi.” His voice was deep and smooth.
“Hey,” Olivia said dreamily. “I mean, hello. Sorry, I just…I’m surprised to see you here.”
She sat up straight in her seat. Despite how physically attractive the guy was, she wasn’t about to forget about the fact that he was one of the reasons why she could have been late to her interview, and definitely looked less professional than she’d like. She looked away, not wanting to expel the energy as being angry at him.
He chose the chair next to her and sat down. “It’s nice to see you again,” he said.
“I can’t say that I feel the same, to be honest.”
“Miss Reed,” the receptionist called to her. “Miss Reed, if you’re ready—”
The man held up a hand and said, “Thank you. I’ll take care of this.”
“As you wish, sir,” the receptionist replied with a nod.
He stood up and dusted off his pant legs. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“What?”
“For your interview?”
“Uh, yes…?” She looked him up and down, nervous as to why a stranger and potential applicant would care if she was prepared.
“Well, come on, then.”
“Wait…what?”
He grinned. “Just follow me.”
Olivia stood up and reluctantly followed the handsome stranger to a corner office. As he walked, the scent of his cologne wafted back to her. He smelled like sandalwood…or was it cedar? It was warm and woodsy, mixed with just a touch of sweet vanilla. It was tantalizing.
I don’t remember this from earlier, she thought to herself.
Looking him up and down, she noticed a small beauty mark on the back of his neck. Other than that, he seemed flawless in his perfectly tailored suit. In fact, Olivia was so mesmerized by him that she almost didn’t notice him stop in front of a door.
“Oh,” she said softly as her heels squeaked to a halt on the waxed hardwood flooring. On the door, she noticed a small sign that read “Conference Room.”
Oh my God. Maybe he’s conducting the interview, Olivia thought with horror. She internally chided herself for anything potentially offensive that she might have said to him.
"Please, make yourself comfortable," he said as he opened the door and held it for her.
Olivia followed his lead and walked into the conference room. Inside was a long table that spanned the length of the room. The exterior walls were mostly made of glass, allowing Olivia to see a stunning view of the city. She walked up to the glass and reached out to it.
Her fingertips had barely grazed the surface when she heard the squeak of a chair being moved. The man sat down at the head of the table with a stack of file folders in front of him.
"Your name is Olivia Reed, yes?" he asked, opening the top folder.
"Oh," she said. "You are conducting the interview." She could feel her palms starting to get sweaty.
She watched as he pulled a gold-plated pen out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Everything about him seemed sophisticated and elegant. The designer suit. The fancy fountain pen. His perfect posture. His expensive cellphone. He was rich. He didn’t seem like a lackey that had been hired to just do interviews.
"Of course," he said lightly. He motioned for her to sit down.
She quickly made her way to the chair that he indicated, just to his right. From this distance, she could see his signature as he signed the bottom of her dossier.
Sheikh Yasin bin—Wait a minute. This is the CEO?
"I am so sorry about earlier," she suddenly sputtered. The words flew out of her mouth in a rush. "I didn’t mean to run into you. I’m so sorry. I had no idea that—I mean…I’m just so sorry."
He shook his head and smiled warmly. "No reason for you to apologize. I am the one that bumped into you and caused you to spill your coffee and your clothes. I must apologize to you."
"It’s all my fault. I should have paid more attention…"
He waved his hand. "No need. Let’s just look toward the future, shall we? Let’s talk a bit about you. Tell me about yourself. Something that’s not in this eclectic resume that you turned in with your application."
Olivia nodded, feeling herself blushing.
"I know that it’s a little, uh, random—my job history, I mean," she began. "I’ve done a little bit of everything. I used to be a waitress and my last job was in administration. Though…" Her voice trailed off. "I suppose you already know all of that. Um, as for things that I didn’t put into my resume. I guess I didn’t really talk about my family. Right now, it’s just me and my sister. We’re extremely close. She…”
Olivia broke off for a second, taking a breath. Talking about her sister, Jennifer, always brought tears to her eyes.
“My sister has cancer. She’s been ill for a long time, and her disease is more chronic than life threatening nowadays. She first got sick not long before our parents died, five years ago, and between the side effects of the medications and treatments and the cost of care…well, it’s been hard on both of us since then. Our parents left their house and their money to us when they passed, but most of those funds have gone to school and medical bills. So, we’re doing the best we can on our own.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Did you have to change your plans as a result?” he asked. He leaned back in his chair and watched her intently.
“I don’t really think about it like that. I wanted to be a lawyer, yes, but when it comes to my priorities, family comes first; whatever Jennifer needs, that’s what I’ll do. I don’t regret having to work hard to support my sister. It’s difficult to be the strong one all the time, but no matter what, if I had to do it all again, I would always choose my sister over law school.”
“That’s an incredibly noble thing to have done,” he said earnestly.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia blurted out once more. “It’s just…
that’s why I was so determined to get to this interview on time. I really need this job, but I don’t want you to give it to me because you pity me and my situation. I’m not trying to make excuses, especially for my behavior this morning. I didn’t mean to be so rude.”
He held his hand up in the air to stop her. His warm smile brought her anxiety levels down. “Miss Reed, I already told you that all is well with the past, and that we’re just going to look forward."
She watched his eyes as they went from her face to her hands (which she had nervously placed on the table top) and back to her face.
“Oh, I’m being rude,” he said then. He offered her a smile. “My name is Sheikh Yasin bin Taab, by the way.”
His brown eyes were piercing as he focused on her face. Olivia could feel her cheeks flushing redder and redder.
"I am sympathetic to your situation. Family is important to me, as well," he continued. "Not only that, but your heart and your honesty are rather rare qualities in the business world. It can be rather cold here. You are…refreshing."
"I’ll admit that I haven’t spent a great deal of time in the business world, but I’m willing to give it a try if you’ll let me," she offered.
Olivia could feel her anxiety begin to spike again. In the weeks since losing her job, she’d been to dozens of interviews, and this felt like a well thought-out rejection. She’d heard it all, but it all came down to the same thing: You’re really sweet, but you’re just not the right fit for us. It was heartbreaking to hear, but it was something that she was getting used to.
"I’m afraid that the oil business is somewhat of a harsh, male-oriented industry as of right now," he said.
She nodded. "And yet your ad specifically asked for a woman," Olivia said.
A grin appeared on his face. "Yes, it did," he said.
"Was it just to fill some sort of quota?"
"Not a quota, per se. It’s more that this is a role that would best suit a woman."
She was waiting for him to say something to the extent of, a woman that isn’t you, but he merely looked down at the file in front of him.
Olivia took the silence as a bad sign and decided to get up and go before she embarrassed herself again. She had already done enough damage that morning.
"I guess I’ll just leave you to your other candidates, then," she said softly as she turned to leave.
"Wait," he called.
Olivia spun around on her heel.
"Yes?" she asked.
"You know, I think you’re the perfect fit," he said simply.
"Wait, what?" she gasped. "Me?" This was the last thing that she had expected. "Oh," she said, the syllable escaping her mouth like a breath. "Thank you. Thank you so—" The sentence was cut short as she realized that she had no idea what the job even entailed. "But before I accept the job offer, I’m afraid that I don’t know what the job is. The ad was extremely vague."
"Of course," he said. He held his hand out and motioned for her to sit next to him again.
She complied, much more comfortable than she had been before. Her nerves had lessened considerably; she no longer felt like she was holding her breath.
The Sheikh paused and brought his hands to his face, resting his chin on them as he carefully calculated the words he would use. Olivia watched his eyes as he contemplated.
"This position isn’t a regular job offer. It’s a long-term position and requires an extreme amount of dedication."
"I’m always dedicated to my work," Olivia offered.
"Good." Yasin cleared his throat. "It’s a unique position in that…" he started, but trailed off. Olivia could see his cheeks blush ever so slightly. "Well, you see, I need a wife."
Olivia stared at him, dumbfounded. "I’m sorry. I thought I heard you say ‘wife’. What was the position again?"
"You did. I need a woman to who will agree to marry me, strictly for appearances, so as to relieve me of familial expectations that have been placed upon me. If you agree, you’ll have to undergo an insemination procedure in order to produce an heir to our fortune and name."
Olivia opened her mouth to ask him a question—she had so many—but he stopped her so that he could continue.
"Finally," he said, "you’ll need to give up all of the rights to the child once he or she is born. You won’t have a role in raising the child. You’ll essentially be a surrogate, and I will assume the sole parental role." He paused to eye her. "Are you okay?"
She nodded.
"All right," he said. "You’ll be required to live in the palace with me until the baby is six months old so that the public or my family won’t get suspicious, but for your comfort and ease, we can live in separate wings. You can live your own life in Rebayah, my home country. It’s a wonderful place. I’m sure you’ll love it."
He stopped, then, and Olivia wasn’t sure if the pause was so that she could stop and think about the job opportunity or if it was for some other reason. Maybe he was having second thoughts about her. Perhaps the look of terror on her face was making him second guess his decision. Olivia tried to compose herself, all the while stunned into silence.
I’ve never heard of this sort of job before, she thought to herself. What makes him think that he can just hire a fake wife and a surrogate in one fell swoop? Not to mention, why not just put that in the ad in the first place? That’s not the type of thing that you just surprise someone with, is it?
Her mind raced, unsure of which question to ask first.
"But why me?" she asked finally. "Why did you choose me, out of all of the candidates?"
"There’s something special about you, Olivia. I know we’ve only just met, but your dedication to family makes me think that you’ll be a great fit for this position.”
She looked deep into his eyes and was surprised when she realized that he did seem sincere.
"I don’t know…" she began, uncertainty written across her delicate features.
"And let’s not forget the compensation," he said. "In exchange for accepting this job, I’ll pay you $1 million up front, with a monthly stipend of $50,000 while you live in Rebayah."
Olivia’s jaw dropped. "What?"
Her hands grasped at the edge of the desk. For as long as she’d been working, she’d never made that much money before, never mind seen it all in one lump sum.
That’s a lot to ask. A fake marriage, moving abroad, and pregnancy, too. And all of it a sham?
As much as she wrestled with the ethical questions around what he was asking, no matter how she argued it, her mind kept circling back around to the money. She didn’t know how she could actually turn all of that down. With that amount of money, she would be able to pay for her sister’s medical treatments, her care, and…
"Wait, I can’t."
Yasin furrowed his brows—the first time she’d witnessed him do so. "Can’t?" he asked calmly.
She nodded. "I can’t move to Rebayah. I’m taking care of my sister. I wouldn’t be able to leave her."
His brows relaxed and he smiled. "Oh, that’s all."
"What do you mean that’s all?!"
"I will happily pay for a full-time, first-class caretaker and in-home nurse for your sister. Consider it a part of the deal," he said.
"I’ve never been apart from my sister for that long,” she countered, thinking out loud. “I’d want to know that she was being taken care of. I’d need to see her."
"Well," he said. "Besides any video calls that you want to make, you can easily fly back to the States on my personal jet. Just as long as your trips don’t interfere with how our marriage is viewed by the public and by my family, you are free to go home to visit whenever you wish. Like I told you before, you are free to have your own personal life outside of our arrangement. Think of it like a job with odd hours. You’ll be an on-call fake wife and real surrogate mother for just over a year."
Olivia bit her lip as she pondered her options. It was almost too good to be true, except there was so much responsibility in trying to kee
p up a realistic facade. Not to mention, putting her body through a pregnancy. Not to mention, the deception. That would be difficult to get used to.
"And you’re absolutely sure you want me for the job?” It seemed like the only question her mind could form in all its confusion and shock.
"You’re honestly the perfect candidate. You’re smart, loyal, determined, and beautiful. All of these are qualities that I would love to see within my own child, should they have the chance to inherit them from you."
He reached for her hand, then. Reluctantly, Olivia offered her own in response.
"I…I," she started. "I’ll do it." Her stomach was in knots. What were the chances that she’d end up regretting this?
He gave her hand an enthusiastic squeeze. Letting go, he reached for his briefcase, which he pulled out from under the table.
"I’ve already had a contract prepared," he said, flipping the locks on the case. They snapped open. "Please, take your time and look it over carefully before you sign."
After handing it to her, he slid a pen next to it, then left the room.
Olivia was alone. If she was going to make a break for it, this was the time. But instead of grabbing her things and running out of the door, she simply read over the contract. Twice. It wasn’t a long document, merely a wordier version of what had already been said. By the time the Sheikh re-joined her in the conference room, she had signed it.
"Do you have any questions?" he asked, taking his seat again.
She shook her head. "No, I think I understand everything."
"Wonderful," he said, taking the contract from her and signing it as well.
A feeling of panic washed over Olivia. That was it. In only two seconds, with just a swipe of his pen, her life had changed. But had it changed for the better or the worse? Had she just given herself and her sister a better life, or just a more complicated one?
"We’ll have to get started right away," Yasin said. "You’ll have three days to get situated, pack, and make all of the necessary arrangements.” He pulled out his phone and began typing as he continued. “I got your contact details from your application—I’m emailing you the details right now.”
