His Perfect BabyA Miracle Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  Scattered all over the place in little groups are different objects we’re testing. “That’s a new camera array,” I say, pointing at a spider-like thing perched on top of a trash can. “And that’s a new glass configuration that looks promising.” I point at a sheet of it surrounded by hammers, knives, and a gun mounted on a tripod.

  Emma blinks at the gun but we keep moving. There are other things scattered all over, and some of it even I don’t recognize. “This is the bleeding edge of Envoy,” I say to her. “Everything starts out here before it gets anywhere near consumers.”

  “This is crazy,” she admits. “I mean, look at this stuff. I thought you guys were just a car company.”

  I laugh a little bit. “Oh, we’re much more than that.” We step through a bunch of tables laden with different pipes bent at all kinds of angles. Up ahead is another table, but this one is covered in a white tablecloth with two place settings and a candle burning in the middle. There’s a side table a few feet away with a jug of water and glasses.

  Emma laughs softly. “So this is dinner, huh? Do you use this trick often?”

  I shake my head. “Only for the most important clients.” I walk over to the table and pull out a chair for her. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

  She gives me a look and sits down. “I didn’t know I was a client.”

  “You’re not,” I say lightly. “Just someone I want to impress, and maybe go into business with.”

  She cocks her head as I pour two glasses of water, watching me carefully. “Business?”

  I put the water down in front of her and take a seat at the other end. Almost instantly, a waiter appears out of nowhere. I can tell he startles Emma as he walks into the space from behind a prototype Mark 2 Envoy.

  “Sir, madam,” he says, “tonight will be a tasting menu. Drinks?”

  I grin at him. “You’re an awful waiter, Dirk.”

  He nods slightly. “Yes, sir, I am. You thirsty or what?”

  “Champagne for both of us,” I say, and Dirk just shrugs before he wanders off.

  “Who’s that?” Emma asks me. “I assume he’s not normally a waiter.”

  “No, Dirk’s an engineer,” I say. “He lost a bet and now he’s here.”

  She laughs a little bit, shaking her head. “Why are we here, David?”

  “Let’s not get to business before we get our drinks, okay?”

  She sighs. “I didn’t know we had business.”

  “Oh, we do.” I swivel in my chair. “Dirk! Hurry your ass up.”

  There’s a pop of a cork from behind the car. “Coming, your highness.”

  Emma stifles a laugh and I roll my eyes. Dirk comes over with two full glasses and places them down. “Don’t choke on it,” he says to me before giving Emma a sweet wink.

  “Don’t be a sore loser!” I call after him as he walks away and flips me the bird. I grin and turn back to Emma. “Well now, how about a toast?”

  I lift my glass and she meets the gesture. “To Envoy,” she says.

  “To me and you,” I say softly, eyes meeting hers. She blushes slightly, but she drinks to it.

  “Okay, we have drinks,” she says. “And I have a baby at home. So come on, cut to the chase.”

  “Okay then.” I stand up. “What I have to offer is a little… unusual, to say the least.”

  I walk over to the side table and lift up the cloth. I reach underneath it and grab a file from the bottom shelf. I sit back down and open it casually, paging through the contract with a practiced eye while Emma sips her drink, watching me closely.

  “How much do you know about my personal life, Emma?”

  She blinks at the question. “Not much,” she says finally. “I mean, no more than anyone else.”

  “Give me a summary, then.”

  “You’re a bachelor,” she says. “You sleep around a little bit, get caught on camera with actresses and singers, but you seem like a good person. At least you give a lot of money to charity.”

  I can’t help but laugh at that. “Does donating money makes a person good?”

  “No, not necessarily. I guess that’s just my interpretation.”

  I smile again, impressed by her. I knew she was smart and beautiful, but I didn’t know exactly what to expect. So far, she’s exceeding even my best-case scenario.

  “You’re aware then that I’m in my mid-thirties, single, and filthy rich. Does that about sum it up?”

  “Sure,” she says, sipping her drink again. “I think that just about does it.”

  “Okay, good.” I take a breath and let it out. “You see, Emma, I want a family.”

  I stop there, looking at her expression. Her eyebrow is raised and she looks unsure.

  “Are you surprised by that?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I don’t know, honestly. You’re still young, you’re still filthy rich, and you’re still desirable. Why would you want a family?”

  I sigh a little bit. “That’s what most people ask. Truth is, the single life isn’t exactly the greatest thing in the world. I miss certain things that only a real family could provide.”

  She watches me silently for a moment, and I wonder what she’s thinking. I’m sure her thoughts are on Julie, and I think I see a hint of fear in her eyes.

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  “Everything,” I say softly, and I take the contract out of the file. “Please, take a look at this.”

  I hand it over and she looks confused at first. She skims the first page, reading under her breath, before looking up with a shocked expression.

  I can’t help but grin huge at her. My whole body is tingling with excitement. I love this sort of thing, trying to make deal and all that, but I love this in particular. I want this woman and I want my daughter, but I don’t know if I can fully trust her, and I’m not entirely sure that Julie is in fact mine.

  I decided to play a little game. Well, not exactly a game, but something like that. I want to test Emma, see how far I can push her… and see if I can have her in the end.

  Truth is, I really do want a family. That part isn’t a lie, not at all. I just haven’t met the right woman to make that family with yet. I’ve been lonely these last few years. The more successful I get, the lonelier I feel as I’m more and more disconnected from normal people. I want that sense of normalcy, and I think I can get it from Emma and Julie. I think I could make a family with them and be happy.

  It helps that Emma is beautiful and smart and I’m insanely attracted to her. Of course, I have to prove compatibility, and that’s part of this little test. One thing at a time, though.

  “This looks like a contract,” she says slowly.

  “It is,” I confirm, nodding.

  “For a surrogate.”

  “That’s right.”

  She stares at me and slowly lowers the contract onto the table. “You want to pay me two million dollars to have a baby for you?”

  I start to say something, but Dirk interrupts. He walks over with two plates and drops them onto the table. “Eat up,” he grunts, and walks back off.

  “Be polite!” I yell, which just makes him flip me off again.

  The first course is a simple salad, and I take a bite as I wait for Emma to process. She blinks at the plate and fishes the contract out from under it before paging through it some more.

  She gets to the third page and stops. “Okay, this is fucking insane,” she says. “Are you serious with this?”

  “Very serious,” I say. “Which part are you talking about exactly?”

  “You want to do it the ‘old-fashioned’ way?” She gapes at me. “What the hell does that mean?”

  I lean forward. “I think you know.”

  “You want to have sex?”

  Her voice is loud enough to resonate in the warehouse. I grin at her and she blushes a little bit.

  “You want to actually have sex with me?” she asks at a more reasonable level.

  “Yes,” I say. “Over and over again u
ntil I get you pregnant.”

  Her blush deepens and I savor this moment. I love making her blush, and I love the moments leading up to sex, the chase and the flirtation. It’s all so exciting.

  She shakes her head, completely bewildered. I sip my champagne and wave over at Dirk. He comes out with the bottle and refills my glass along with Emma’s before stomping off again.

  “Okay, let me get this straight,” she finally says. “You want to have, uh, normal sex with me, until I get pregnant. And then you want to keep that baby, and you’ll pay me two million dollars for it?”

  “Pretty much,” I say.

  “Why me?”

  I laugh softly. “Well, we’ve had sex before, so that won’t be too difficult.” If she could blush more, I’m sure she would, but instead she just says nothing. “You’re young and I think you’re healthy, so you’re capable of carrying a baby. You’re attractive and smart, which means your genes are good. And you’re a single mother, so you could use the money.”

  She blinks at that last part. “How do you know I need the money?”

  “It’s two million dollars,” I say softly. “Everyone needs that kind of money, especially a single mom.”

  She looks like she wants to argue for a second, but she deflates. I grin and then finish my salad. She eats her own salad and when we’re finished, Dirk comes out with the soup course.

  We eat that in silence too and I can tell she’s processing. She flips through the contract again, reading it more closely as we finish up. Dirk brings out the main course, a delicious braised duck roast with mashed potatoes, which she barely touches. She spends the whole time lost in thought, staring at the contract, which I don’t mind. I want her to feel comfortable.

  Eventually, though, I finish my meal. “What do you think?” I ask her.

  She looks up at me like she forgot I was there. “I honestly don’t know what to think.”

  “I know it’s unusual,” I admit. “Maybe even crazy. But seriously, Emma, how else are you going to make that kind of money?”

  “I don’t know,” she admits. “But it’s not like you’re asking me some small thing. You’re asking me for a baby.”

  “I know,” I say. “It’s not a small thing. It’s a big deal, so if you want to do this, you have to be sure.”

  She chews her lip, and I know it’s time to walk away. I’ve been in enough negotiations to know when it’s time to leave them wondering.

  I push back and stand. “Listen, I have to get going. Take that home with you, look it over. You don’t have to give me a decision anytime soon.”

  She nods a little. “When do you want to hear back by?”

  “Take a week,” I say. “But don’t leave me waiting too long. I’m not very patient, but I think you’ll find that out soon enough.”

  I wink at her and she sighs as I turn and walk away. I nod at Dirk and he gives me a thumbs up as I leave the room. Emma’s still sitting at the table as I go back out through the security doors. Dirk will show her the way out and make sure she gets to her car just fine.

  In the meantime, I have some planning to do. Not only do I have to finish the Envoy Mark 2, but I need to think about how I’m going to go forward with Emma. I know she’s going to say yes, and when she does, I have to be ready.

  Because I’m going to sweep her off her feet and make her feel something she never, ever expected.

  5

  Emma

  Three days after David’s bat-shit insane, totally inappropriate, and wildly insulting proposal, I decide to accept.

  I’m in my tiny apartment with Julie, trying to get her ready for the morning, and I realize that I forgot to buy diapers. I end up finding some shoved in the back of a closet, thankfully, but before we can go, I end up spilling a cup of juice all over her diaper bag. I manage to get everything cleaned up, but now Julie’s upset and we’re running late and I’m basically a harried mess, and this is an average morning for me.

  As I’m walking down the stairs with her, I realize what two million dollars would mean. It would mean security for us and a future for Julie. I could invest half and use the other half to buy a modest home plus a new car, and still have enough left over to pay for her future college education. That money would change our lives in so many ways, but mostly it would mean Julie’s life would get better.

  As much as I want to avoid it, I need this money for my daughter. If it were just me, I’d turn this whole thing down in a heartbeat, because, holy shit, that contract is crazy. But I can’t turn it down, because I’m not thinking about only myself.

  And there’s another voice in the back of my mind. It keeps whispering, over and over, that I can’t get pregnant. Sure, it happened with Julie, but my doctor was clear: it’s incredibly unlikely to ever happen again. He doubts it’s even possible. Julie wasn’t an easy pregnancy, and her birth was even harder. If I accept this contract, I’ll be entering into it knowing that it’s basically impossible for me to actually fulfill it in the end.

  So why bother? If I can’t have his baby, I can’t get the money, right? Sometimes, desperation makes people do crazy things, like sign crazy contracts. And if it happened once, it could happen again, or maybe he’ll just give me the money after trying long enough. I can’t really say, because I don’t know.

  I get Julie into the daycare center in our building and I head up to my desk. Sven is doing calisthenics in his big glass office, wearing an absurd gold and black tracksuit this time. He’s huffing and puffing and flips me off when I wave, which only makes me smile. I wave to Ed, an older bald guy with a lisp, and he nods back. Mel is busy typing away but she manages a smile when I pass. Monk has his legs crossed in his chair and he’s smiling like a moron up at the ceiling, which means he’s high as fuck, and Larry is trying to thread a needle. I don’t want to know about that one, so I sit down at my desk before I can get caught up in conversation.

  I email David right away. I don’t want to lose my nerve. I know this is probably a mistake, since it pretty much means I’ll be his sex slave for as long as it takes to get pregnant, but maybe it won’t take that long. And besides, sex with David isn’t exactly unpleasant. It’s not like I don’t want to fuck him over and over and over again. Honestly, I can’t stop thinking about that night I had with him, and I’m practically dripping wet just thinking about getting that again and again.

  It’s more Julie that I’m worried about. I don’t want him to get any inkling of who she is to him, but I won’t be able to keep them apart. He can come and go as he pleases, and there’s no way he won’t spend more time with her, even just as a byproduct of being in my life. I know I should maybe reconsider all this, but it’s too late. I type up the email, and I hover over the send button, knowing this will change my life.

  David, I’m ready to sign. Emma.

  I stare, stomach churning, and I click. The email sends and I lean back in my seat, wondering what I just agreed to.

  David’s response is almost instant. Come to my office. That’s it, no greeting, no signature. I sigh to myself and get up.

  “Where do you think you are going?”

  I turn around and Sven’s standing there, arms crossed, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow.

  “David wants me in his office,” I say.

  Larry pokes his head out of his cube. “Yeah, he does!” he says.

  I roll my eyes at him.

  “What does big boss want with you?” Sven narrows his eyes at me.

  “Special project,” I say.

  Sven barks a laugh. “We are ‘special project’ already. Are we not special enough for you?”

  “You are, it’s just—”

  “Yes, yes, big boss gets whatever big boss wants.” He shoos me away with a flick of his wrist. “Go, don’t make the big boss unhappy.”

  I frown a little bit but head off. Mel pokes her head from her cube, shifting her glasses. “Get him, girl!” she calls out and I flip her off with a smile.

  It’s strange how quickl
y I found myself fitting in with this weird, ragtag group of programmers and artists. I don’t even know what we’re doing, although Sven sends me little projects to debug every day, but I like the people I’m working with at least. They’re all totally insane and weird and borderline dangerous, but that’s what I like about them, and I suspect it’s why Sven hired them all.

  I don’t know why he hired me on, but I can’t complain. I suspect it has to do with my ethics training, since there’s always some kind of weird ethical dilemma involved in the emails Sven sends me, long tangled-up stories of drivers and the decisions their cars made. I do my best to give him answers, but sometimes there are no good solutions, which only pisses him off.

  I get to David’s office a few minutes later. I’m nervous when I knock on the door, and his secretary gives me a kind smile. “Just go in, dear,” she says. “He’s waiting for you.”

  I nod and open the door. David’s standing by the windows, a glass of champagne in his hand, a huge grin on his face. I almost want to turn around and get out of there, just to spite him, but I close the door behind me instead.

  “Well, here you are,” he says. He pours me a glass from the bottle on his desk and hands it to me. I take it with a nervous little smile.

  “I want to negotiate,” I say to him.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Need more money?”

  “No,” I say. “More freedom.”

  “Ah,” he says, a knowing smile on his lips that drives me nuts. “How much more, exactly?”

  “I need limits. Right now, you can basically do whatever you want with me whenever you want it.”

  “And that’s not attractive to you?” He cocks his head, putting emphasis on the word “attractive.”

  “No,” I say, although that’s a lie. I love the idea of him kicking in my door late at night and fucking me senseless.

  “What kind of limits were you thinking, then?”

  “Nothing between the hours of eight at night and six in the morning,” I say.

  He laughs, shaking his head. “No way. Those are prime fucking hours.”

  I wince a little. “Eleven to six,” I concede.