Contract Pregnancy with the Billionaire

Chapter 2: Meeting

Sign up at the Agency. Fill in the Questionnaire. Sign the waver.

That's what the person on the other end of the phone call at New Life had told me when I called to ask about possible surrogacy. I'd quoted Aude's referral number and name, so I had been fast tracked. Apparently, employees were only allowed to refer someone after doing some vetting themselves.

I had muttered to myself about the digging on me Aude must have done surreptitiously, but I didn't let it simmer too much. I was, after all, going to get an interview with Jacob Greyson because of Aude's hints.

I had called the office as soon as I'd hung up with Aude, knowing my friend would be busy with Mr Greyson, I took the chance that someone else would have picked up my call.

It worked. A Henry Turner had answered, and told me that I could come in that morning, if I wanted. Since he had an opening.

It would be tight, I had reasoned to myself. Aude would have tomorrow off, and I would be able to get in and out without my friend seeing me, but if I went now I might get a chance to bump into Jacob Greyson. Not that his security detail would let me get close enough, but still, every attempt had to be made to bring him down!

So I had booked the appointment with Henry, asking if he would be conducting my interview. Henry had assured me that he would deal with me personally, and that all I had to do was sign up with the agency, fill in a personal description questionnaire, and then sign a waiver. I would be done within twenty minutes, he promised me.

So I got myself a cab, and had myself and my viable womb delivered to the New Life clinic.

I stood outside the doors right now, wondering about my decision. I shook my head. This wasn't the time for self-doubt. Also, its not like I was agreeing to be his surrogate, I just needed the first meeting with him. So that he would know my name, and then I could request a more in-depth interview for the newspaper.

There was no part of my plan that required me doing anything at all. So I knew that I had no real reason to be nervous.

It was such a simple plan, and so easily and efficiently done, it was divine guidance.

So I shook my hesitation off me, and walked to the large oak doors.

The building was rather grand, if small and quaint. Especially for a fertility clinic. It looked and felt more like a grand hotel. A doorman opened the door for me, and gestured me towards the front desk.

“Hi," I told the lady with the broad smile behind the desk.

She looked warm and inviting, and so very sophisticated. It was clear that they made sure that the air here was catering to a very high clientele.

“Good morning. Welcome to New Life, how may I help you?" The lady asked, her name tag read 'Sam'.

“Uhm, I have an appointment with Henry Turner?" I phrased it like a question. It was always a good idea to hide the reporter nature. People got antsy when they knew they were talking to a reporter. And the easiest way to hide a reporters nature was to be timid, and unsure.

“Right, Miss Smith." The receptionist didn't even glance down, the staff was efficient. “He's already on his way, he'll be through that door in just a second."

The receptionist pointed me to a door to the left of her desk, and sure enough, a man in his early twenties, absolutely well dressed, breezed through the doors.

“Miss Smith, right this way, please," Henry bowed slightly to me, and guided me through the same door he'd just come in from.

“Hi, thanks," I greeted, as I followed him into what must have been his office.

“Please have a seat. I hope you weren't waiting too long?" He gestured to one of the chairs situated behind the desk.

After I assured him I had only just got there, he provided me with a few papers, explaining as I glanced through them. He definitely didn't think that I was here investigating anything. But he must know that I was a reporter.

“The base fee for a surrogate mother at our agency is $250 000. That's ten times what a surrogate mother would receive anywhere else."

There must be a damn good reason why the pay is ten times the amount, I thought bitterly. No place – and absolutely no client – just gave money away like that. Maybe I should be investigating this place, rather than just one of it's clients.

“This, of course, covers the stringent privacy that is expected of our mothers. And because of the extreme vetting process we do. We'll also need a blood sample, of course, which I'll take here, for various tests."

He pulled a blood sample kit out of his drawers, as I looked through the thesis-like document he'd just given to me. There were questions on just about everything about me. Every single detail of my life was laid out in the papers.

This would take longer than twenty minutes. But I was still confident that I would be able to sneak around Aude, even if she had come back by the time I left. Sighing, I held out my left arm for him to draw blood, and began answering the long list of questions.

Height: 5'2. Hair colour: Brown. Eye Colour: Brown. Skin tone: Tan. Skin Undertone: Rose. Face shape: Heart. Availability: Immediately. I double checked that one. I needed to be put on the options with Greyson. That was the only way this plan worked for me at all.

Thankfully, through most of these, there were checkboxes to complete.

After a long arduous examination of my own self, I was ready to question my own existence. No wonder some people were so put off by reporters, answering personal questions like that was exhausting.

I needed to sleep for an hour, I thought, as Henry went through a few last minute niceties with me, promising to call me personally in a week, regardless of my outcome.

“Thank you so much for your time, Miss Smith," Henry said again, leading me out of his office. “We'll of course be in contact as soon as you're needed to come in again."

For my prized interview. I nodded solemnly, this was a momentous occasion, after all.

“Mila?" I heard a familiar voice call out to me.

Oh God. Aude. She was far enough away that I could still make a break for it. I ducked behind the nearest person, grabbing on to his very nice suit, and slipping around him.

“Hey," The man said. “Can I help you?"

“Not really," I answered, peaking around him to find Aude looking around bewildered, trying to find me. “If you could just stand still that would be great."

“Call me a mountain, then." The main stood mock soldier straight, lifting his head even a little.

I chanced another glance around him, and quickly ducked.

“Please don't have seen me," I prayed silently. I would tell Aude what I had done, I reasoned with whatever God was listening. I would tell my friend, after the interview, I promised. I would tell Aude everything.

“Who are you hiding from, exactly?" The man asked again, clear amusement in his voice now.

I didn't look up, just kept my head ducked almost against his shoulder.

“My friend," I muttered the word almost like a curse. “Is a bloodhound and sometimes, people just need some privacy, you know?"

The man laughed, I chanced another glance and saw Aude had walked off in the other direction. I relaxed, finally let go of my death grip on the man, and seeing I'd left imprints on his jacket, started to apologize.

“I'm sorry for possibly ruining your very expensive looking jacket," I said, as I straightened myself and glanced up to the man's face. “But it was . . . dire circumstances . . .“ I trailed off, my voice losing steam as I realised who I was talking to.

“Hey, no problem," he laughed. “I understand privacy entirely."

“You're Jacob Greyson," I said, clearing my throat. “I'm really sorry about that, how," I glanced around, slightly bewildered. “How did I get past your security?"

“I was just wondering that too," Jacob arched an eyebrow at the two men on the side of him. “But then I don't think they saw you as much of a threat, and you are?"

The two bodyguards shrugged.

Bodyguards, in a place like this, was actually not that far out of the ordinary. Greyson actually had less than the normal amount.

“Oh," I cleared my throat, “Mila Smith." I held out my hand, and Jacob Greyson – the man I fully intended to destroy – brought it to his lips and kissed my hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Ms Smith."