Page 1 of Meet the Surrogate


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1.

***Memphis***

“Isunbathedmyvaginain preparation for this. I’m centered, as healthy as I’ve ever been, and I feel so ready to take on the world. Gwenyth was right.” A blonde bombshell sitting two chairs down from me tossed her silky hair over her shoulder and flashed a million-dollar smile. If she noticed the ends of her hair hitting me, she didn’t acknowledge it. “I knew I had to be perfect as soon as I heard who the client was.”

I tried to appear as if I wasn’t listening, but my mouth practically salivated at the potential for information. I had no clue who the client was and I did not feel centered or ready to take on the world. It’d never even crossed my mind to sunbathe my vagina. I didn’t even know that was something women did. All I could envision was the time I’d fallen asleep outside of Jenny Bagley’s above-ground pool and woken up the next morning with blistered skin.

“Oh, I’ve been doing a green juice cleanse for a week. I wanted to look perfect.” Another blonde across from the first ran her hands down her thighs. “I fit into my high school jeans again.”

My stomach knotted. I’d tried a green juice once. A new store in town back home had passed out samples and I’d taken one, not wanting to offend the sweet woman handing them out. Swallowing that green poison had nearly ended any will I had to go on in life. I definitely didn’t fit in my high school jeans, either. As far as I could tell, I was zero and three against the ladies around me.

“Anna Sergei.” Diane Hathe’s polished voice hushed the low hum of conversation as she stepped out of the conference room and called the next applicant. Another of the perfect applicants stepped around her to leave and she nodded. “Thank you for coming, Megan.”

The blonde who’d sunbathed her vagina stood up and straightened her perfect pencil skirt. It hugged her slim body and the heels she wore made her legs look miles long. I might’ve even sighed with envy as I noticed them.

“Wish me luck.” Anna nodded to the other blonde and pushed her shoulders back before following Diane into the conference room.

I strained to see into the room, to see the client who’d sent the women around me into a tizzy. The solid wood door closed before I could see a thing, other than Diane’s disapproving look. I swallowed down the urge to vomit and squeezed my hands together in my lap. I knew the pristinely dressed woman didn’t approve of me. She’d nearly spit her coffee out when I’d walked in that morning and she’d taken in my basic sundress and slightly worn flats.

With the way the other women spoke about Diane, it was clear that she was the boss of the surrogacy company we were there for. She controlled everything, and the whispers had suggested the client was a VIP for her to be working the application process herself. So, I didn’t understand why she’d let me stay once she’d laid eyes on me and deemed me unworthy. It was clear she didn’t like me, with each glance my way more scathing than the last. I would’ve thought she’d just toss me out on my butt and let the better suited applicants move forward.

The conference room door opened and Anna walked out with her head held high and her arms crossed. She didn’t glance at the few of us who remained as she marched away. Diane stepped out a moment later and the expression on her face was alarming.

Her eyes landed on me and my back stiffened. I knew my name was about to leave her mouth and I suddenly wanted to change places with Anna. Panic flooded my body and my flight response demanded I run. It was a stupid idea to do what I was doing. It was irresponsible and wrong, immoral even. It was one more con in a long history of cons that I didn’t want to carry out, but I knew that when Diane said my name, I’d get up and pretend to be as graceful as Anna Sergei while straightening my dress. I had no choice, and if I kept telling myself that, I might not feel lower than trash.

“Memphis King.” Diane even said my name like it tasted bad on the tip of her tongue.

I stood up on shaking legs and took a deep breath. I could hear my ex-boyfriend’s voice in my head as I ran my hands over my hips and felt the raised daisies crocheted into the white cotton of my dress. He’d coached me through a hundred cons, all of which I felt sick walking into. He’d always been there to force me to carry things through, and without him there, I wanted to put a few more miles on my flats while running straight out of the city.

“Well?” Diane put her hands on her hips as she stared at me, her expression showing every bit of her frustration.

I took another deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then blew it out while silently going down the list of my lies as I walked towards her. The application I’d submitted to be considered for her incredibly rich-blooded surrogacy program had been so thick with bullcrap that it would’ve taken a tractor to get through it all. Slightly tipsy on bargain wine the night I’d created the fictional version of myself, I’d taken creative liberties that I was going to have to walk into that conference room and stand behind with a straight face.

When Diane didn’t move from the doorway, I stopped in front of her and met her deep brown gaze. Her mouth tightened and turned down in a frown. I winced as she began to speak but was cut off by a deep voice calling out from the conference room.

“Mrs. Hathe. Is there a reason you’re blocking Ms. King from entering?”

Diane snapped her mouth shut and stepped to the side so I could enter the room. “Not at all, Mr. Hawke.”

My stomach soured and my body tightened with nerves as I moved into the room and kept my eyes on my feet while Diane shut the heavy door behind us. It was just one more con. One more and then I’d never do it again. I was only doing it then because I had to. Still, I felt like a monster as I straightened my back and lifted my chin.

“Ms. King, these are the Hawke brothers. Remington, Wells, and Boone.” Diane cleared her throat. “They’re each seeking a surrogate.”

My hand lifted to my throat to clutch the pearls I’d never owned as I laid eyes on the three men sitting across from me. For one perfect moment, I forgot where I was and who I was. Suspended in time, I almost believed that the gods playing mere men in front of me were there just for me, for my viewing pleasure. I felt heat branding my neck and higher as I stared.

The only time I could remember feeling the way I felt in that moment was the one Christmas I could remember before my brothers were born. I’d raced into the living room and found the stuffed monkey I’d wanted, sitting inside a used plastic car that I could just fit inside if I didn’t close the door. That monkey sitting shotgun in that car had my eyes wide and excited as I tried to devour everything at once. The Hawke brothers had my eyes shifting back and forth quickly as I drank in every detail of them. It was the monkey and car all over again, but on steroids.

“This is Memphis King, age twenty-nine, from Georgia. As I mentioned previously, Mr. Hawke, I haven’t-”

The Mr. Hawke she addressed was the brother sitting in the middle. Even from where I stood, I could see how vibrantly blue his eyes were as they narrowed on Mrs. Hathe. “That’s quite enough, Mrs. Hathe. We can take it from here.”

She gestured for me to take the single chair in front of the men and crossed her arms over her chest. “Go ahead.”

Even as I lowered myself into the chair, I couldn’t force my eyes away from them. They were all gazing back at me with intense focus, the three sets of eyes all distinctly different in color. The brother in the middle with the bright blue eyes and styled light blonde hair wore a suit and a five o’clock shadow better than anyone I’d ever seen. They were all large men, probably even larger than I was imagining when standing, and they each had the same strong jawline and strong features. On the right, one of the brothers stared back at me with eyes the color of the ocean and tattoos creeping out of the neck of his shirt. His dirty blonde hair fell over his forehead and he pushed it back without disengaging. The brother on the left had darker blonde hair cut short and a neatly trimmed beard, with eyes that almost danced depending on the angle of his face. I couldn’t tell if his eyes were dark blue or hazel and I wanted to figure it out. His teeth were perfectly white as he smiled at me.

“Well, Ms. King. Should we start?” The smile grew as his eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’m Boone Hawke. It’s nice to meet you.”

I took yet another deep breath and sat up even straighter. “It’s nice to meet you, too. All of you. Please, call me Memphis.”

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