by Rye Hart
“And you want me to be your surrogate?”
I wanted to laugh, but a white-hot bolt of anger rushed through me. Malcolm nodded, and before I could stop myself, I reached back and slapped him across the face. Hard.
“This entire night, you've been nice to me because you want to buy me?” I asked, almost screaming at him. “You've been nice to me because you thought you could buy my body like – like I'm some whore.”
“No, it's not like that at all,” he stammered. “You've got it all wrong, Casey.”
I opened the car door and stepped out into the street, slamming it behind me hard enough to rattle the glass in the window. Sirens sounded in the distance, and someone's stereo was so loud, the bass thumping so hard, it practically shook the ground beneath my feet.
I hurried toward my apartment building, but Malcolm was on my tail. He grabbed my arm, spinning me around to face him in the middle of the street. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him and I had to fight back the urge to smack him again. “Damn you, Malcolm. I actually thought better of you,” I said. “I thought you saw me as more than just a piece of meat or some poor downtrodden girl you thought you could use. Maybe it's not the same thing as wanting to fuck me, but you still wanted to use me.”
“Casey, just listen to me,” he said, his voice earnest. “I think you're an amazing woman. Witty, smart, strong, and you don't take shit from anyone. Those are all traits I admire. And as I've gotten to know you tonight, I realized that I want to help you.”
“You want to use me –”
“I don't want to use you,” he said. “I just think this is one of those situations we can both benefit from. I'd pay you whatever you asked for. I'd give you anything, I'd make sure you lived a comfortable life. I'd take care of you.”
I pulled my arm free from his grasp. “I don't need anyone to take care of me, Malcolm,” I snapped. “I thought I made that abundantly clear tonight.”
“Fine. Just thought you could use the money,” he said.
His eyes were deep, unending pools of blue fire that burned straight through me. Seeing him looking at me, knowing that he'd put on this charade tonight in the hopes that I'd bear his kid for him, just so he could claim his damn trust fund or whatever – it did more than piss me off. It hurt me. It cut me straight to the bone.
The fact that it hurt me so bad was surprising. But – it did. This whole evening, I'd thought we had a connection. I thought that I'd misjudged him and that he was a good guy. I'd thought there was more to Malcolm than met the eye. I thought he liked me for who I was, not for what I could do for him.
Clearly, I was wrong on all counts.
“There's more to life than money,” I spat. “Not that I'd expect you to understand that.”
I turned and walked away, pissed off, but unsure of what really bothered me more about all of it. Sure, the fact that he was using me – or more specifically, wanting to use my womb for his own benefit – was enough.
But, there was more to it than that. It bothered me in a lot of ways on a lot of different levels. Maybe I'd actually started to like the guy. My heart ached in my chest as I opened the gate to our small apartment complex, slamming it behind me.
I'd actually thought he was different. I’d thought that maybe he'd been interested in me for something more than my body. Boy, had I read that one wrong.
As I unlocked the front door to our place, I tip-toed into the apartment. I looked over my shoulder and out the door, toward the black BMW that was still parked in the street. I was a fool, but part of me hoped Malcolm might come after me. That hope was gone though, after I watched him start the car and drive away.
Shutting the door behind me, I locked it and saw my dad sleeping on the couch, as usual. Good. I didn't feel like dealing with him tonight anyway. I walked quietly through the living room and through the kitchen, stopping outside my siblings’ bedroom door first.
I pushed the door open a crack and glanced inside. I hated that they had to share a room. Teenage boys and girls both needed their own space, and the room was only about as large as a walk-in closet.
Their twin beds were pushed to opposite ends of the wall, but even still, they had to climb down to the bottom of the bed to get out – there wasn't enough room between the beds to form a decent walkway. Not all that long ago, they'd been forced to share a bed, but I'd found another twin mattress at Goodwill and bought it after a good night of tips.
Sharing a room with your teenage sibling – of the opposite gender, no less – was bad enough on its own. But, having to share a bed was too much. For their part though, they handled it with more grace than I probably could have mustered at their age. They were good kids and knew the score of things. They knew the situation we were in and didn't whine or complain about it very often.
Which somehow, seemed to break my heart a little more for the both of them.
I closed their bedroom door and walked to my room – the one I shared with our mother. Mom was fast asleep in her bed as I changed out of the bloody clothes. That's when I realized I still had Malcolm's jacket. I didn't know how I was going to get it back to him, but I'd find a way. I couldn't keep it.
I neatly folded it and placed it on top of the dresser before changing into a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt. My body ached, and I was exhausted, but my mind wouldn't shut off. Mostly, what I kept thinking about Malcolm's offer. Money like his would do a lot for us. It could get us out of there. My mom, siblings, and I could start a new life somewhere else. We could move somewhere more affordable, maybe inland or even to another state. Strictly speaking, nothing was keeping us in California – especially not in Los Angeles.
That kind of money could mean an entirely new start for us. Except, for the fact that I'd have to carry a child inside of me for nine months, of course. After having given birth to the child, I'd then have to hand it over to Malcolm and his family at the end. That was something that could be a little tough to do.
Not that I could care for another child. I had enough on my plate as it was. But, the idea of going through pregnancy and labor was too much for me. One day, I wanted children, but not like that. Not that I could see myself ever being able to afford having children of my own. Not living like we were.
I fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning and dreaming about being homeless with my siblings, on the streets of Hollywood, begging for food.
If I didn't find another job – and fast – that future actually might not be too far off.
CHAPTER NINE
MALCOLM
I sat in my office at Crane Enterprise, scouring internet dating sites, growing more and more frustrated with each passing minute. I had to physically restrain myself from putting my fist through the computer screen.
How did you even go about asking someone you don't know to have a child with you? How do you even choose someone to do something like that?
Asking Casey had clearly been a mistake. Her temper and stubbornness might have been sexy, but it was also trouble. I should have known better than to even mention it, but there was something about her I found entirely alluring and compelling. I was definitely drawn to her in ways I still couldn't quite understand.
Of course, none of that mattered now. She'd said no and got really pissed off at me for even suggesting it, so I was going to have to look elsewhere. The problem was, that on this site, every profile I pulled up on my computer got a big, fat “NO” from me. It wasn't like I was getting any closer to finding a suitable surrogate.
A knock at my office door pulled me away from the computer. I minimized the screen and sat up, clearing my throat.
“Come in.”
When the door opened, I groaned and rolled my eyes. Adam smirked at me, sauntered in, and took a seat across from me. He leaned back in the seat and put his feet up on the corner of my desk – which annoyed me to no end.
“Get your feet off my desk,” I said. “Or I'll take them down for you.”
He left them up for another
minute and when I continued glaring at him, he smirked, shook his head, and finally removed them.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Grumpy, aren't we, Malcolm?” he said, shaking his head. “It's understandable. I guess the idea of potentially losing your inheritance and position in the company would do that to a person.”
“Like you're any closer to getting the job done.”
His smirk grew wider. “Actually, I am,” he said. “But, that's not what I came to discuss.”
“You actually found someone willing to have your baby?” I looked at him, feeling dumbstruck.
“You act like that's shocking but come on – I'm an heir to the Crane fortune,” he said. “Of course I have women who are willing to do anything to be with me to get a slice of that pie.”
“I guess when you set your standards low enough –” I was being petty, and I knew it, butI didn't care.
Adam's smile faltered as he stared back at me. We looked a lot alike, in many ways, except that he had his mother's brown eyes instead of the Crane baby blues.
“Sorry, Adam,” I said, not quite understanding why I felt the need to apologize. “I guess I'm just feeling the pressure here.”
I always tried to be nice to my half-brother, even though he didn't deserve it most of the time. Most days, I felt like his only purpose was to mock me, to make my life a living hell – a role he embraced with vigor, which made it extra hard to be cordial to him.
“Apology accepted,” he said. “I actually didn't come over here to chat about Dad's will though. I actually have a favor to ask you.”
“A favor?” I cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, Dad asked me to look over the the Orizadine files,” he said. “Said it could provide me with some useful background on the drug before it hits the market. Thought maybe you'd know where I can find those?”
“Sure, they're on the drive,” I said. “I'll send you the link. Is there anything else?”
“Yes, please. If you could send over all files relating to the drug trials, the marketing materials, and anything else you might have, that would be great,” he said. “I'm introducing a new marketing campaign to Dad based around the new drug, and I'd – ”
“That's my job,” I interrupted. “I'm the one who handles all the marketing.”
“Oh boy, this is awkward,” Adam sighed.
He clasped his hands in front of him, that familiar smirk back on his face. I knew I wasn't going to like what he had to say next and I could see that Adam was relishing it. He was trying to keep from smirking, but he couldn't quite pull it off. He was just twisting the knife a little deeper – and enjoying it.
“Dad asked me to take some of it off your plate,” he said. “He thought it would be good for me to learn this side of the business. He's finally ready to pull me out of customer service and put me into a real position, I suppose.”
Adam's eyes sparkled as he spoke. He was taunting me and loving every minute of it. We both knew what he was getting at. If I failed, and he succeeded, he'd be the new CEO of Crane Enterprises. He'd control everything.
He'd have my job.
Calm down, Malcolm, I told myself. He's just trying to get under your skin. Yeah, he was a goddamn expert at that. I gritted my teeth and tried to remain pleasant and professional.
“Sure. I'll have my assistant compile everything and send it over later today.”
“Great, thanks, brother,” he said, standing up. “I'm excited to get started.”
Adam left my office, and my blood was boiling, I called my dad on his cell phone. He answered on the first ring.
“Yes, Malcolm?” he answered, as if he'd been expecting my call.
“So you're giving my work to Adam now, I see,” I fumed. “Ready to write me off already, are you?”
I shouldn't speak to him that way, I knew. But, my anger was out of control. The stress and anxiety of this whole stupid contest he was putting us through was really getting to me, and I was lashing out. Dad, of course, didn't appreciate it.
“Malcolm, easy now. No need to get defensive,” he said. “I think it's good for Adam to experience more of what we do. Regardless of who takes over the company, I'd like both of my sons to work together and be partners.”
“I've worked hard for this company, Dad,” I said. “I gave up everything – football, dating, being a normal teenager – with the promise that one day, it would pay off. This whole exercise you're putting us through, pitting us against each other the way you are, is quite frankly, a big load of bullshit.”
“Malcolm,” my dad's voice rose higher. “Nothing in life is ever free. You worked hard, but Adam didn't even have the opportunity to learn. If you think it's so wrong of me to give him a chance to prove himself, maybe I raised you wrong. Maybe, I made things too easy for you.”
“Too easy?” I snapped. “Like having another child in less than a year?”
“You have Danielle,” he said. “Settle down and marry her. Start a family. It's the right thing to do and it's been long enough.”
I hadn't told him about what had happened with Danielle. Apparently, nobody had. I'd held off on telling him because I didn't want him to think I might fail this task. But, maybe it was time to confess it all and admit that I was starting from scratch and had no prospects lined up.
“About that, dad, we need to –”
My phone buzzed with a text message, and I pulled it away from my ear far enough that I could check it.
Hey Malcolm. This is Casey. Can we talk?
Maybe I wasn't as far off as I thought after all. Maybe, after having a night to sleep on it, Casey had a change of heart.
“Malcolm?” my father asked. “Are you still there?”
“Yes, dad. Listen, I have to go. We'll talk later,” I said.
I hung up before he had a chance to answer and texted Casey back. I’d nearly forgotten that I’d given her my number before leaving the diner that night.
Of course. Give me a time and a place, I'll be there.
She responded almost right away.
I'm at The Grove right now. Think you can meet me here?
I was out of my seat, cell phone in hand, before I even had a chance to respond. The Grove wasn't too far from our offices, I could walk there. That wouldn't be a problem at all. My heart raced as I typed out my message to her.
I'm on my way. See you in ten minutes.
~ooo000ooo~
The Grove was iconic in Los Angeles. People flocked from all over to shop at a number of high-end and luxury retailers, or eat at overpriced restaurants, hoping to catch a glimpse of a celebrity or two along the way. As a local, I avoided The Grove at all costs, if I could. Too many tourists for me, and I'd never been a big fan of shopping to begin with.
I told Casey to meet me by the dancing fountain, and perhaps that had been a mistake. As I approached the landmark, I saw that it was surrounded by people and I wasn't sure if I'd find Casey among the throng of tourists.
“Malcolm, over here,” I heard her voice calling to me and looked around, seeing nothing but tourists everywhere.
I heard her call me name again and looked toward where I thought the voice was coming from.I saw that there was an arm in the air, waving for me. Once a bald, overweight man stepped out of the way, I saw Casey standing there with the fountain behind her. Her long hair was pulled back in a high ponytail with side bangs. She was wearing a pencil skirt and a button up shirt that accentuated the amazing curves of her breasts.
My breath catching in my throat, I made my way over to her.
“Good thing you're tall,” she laughed.
For the first time, I realized her eyes were not just brown, but hazel. Flecks of gold and green mingled in with the light brown of her irises and sparkled as the sunlight reflecting off them. Her makeup was very tasteful and light, almost like she wasn't wearing any at all. She didn't really have to, she was naturally very beautiful.
“I wasn't sure you'd see me standing here,” sh
e said. “I guess there's an event going on or something.”
She looked around, wide-eyed at the mass of people, shaking her head. Yeah, I wasn't a big fan of crowds, either. I knew exactly how she felt being trapped in amongst a mob.
“I don't normally come out here,” she said. “In fact, I usually tend to avoid places like this.”
“Then, what brings you out here today?” I asked, slipping my hands into my pockets.
She reached into the backpack sitting on the ground beside her and handed me the jacket I'd put on her the other night.
“I had it dry cleaned, I hope it's okay,” she said. “I hope they got any bloodstains out of the fabric.”
“Casey, you didn't – ”
“My mom works for a dry cleaner, it didn't cost me a thing,” she said, raising her hand to stop my protest.
“You came all this way to give me my jacket back?”
“Not just for that reason,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm also applying for jobs around here. I thought maybe some of the higher-end restaurants might pay well, but so far, nobody's hiring.”
Her face fell, and she let out a long breath. I could see the fear in her eyes as she talked about not being able to find a job. She was bordering on panic.
“I'm sorry to hear that,” I said.
I shuffled my feet and looked around, suddenly realizing how awkward this entire situation had to be for her.
“Would you like to grab lunch?” I asked.
She looked back up at me, batting those dark eyelashes up at me. I assumed she'd shoot me down again, but she surprised me instead.
“Sure,” she said. “Actually, I did want to talk to you about what you said the other night.”
“Come on,” I said. “Today you get to pick the place. Anywhere your little heart desires.”
She smiled gently. “It has to be cheap, I'm broke.”
“It's my treat, Casey. I invited you, remember?” I said. “Just name the place.”
She bit her lip and seemed to think about it for a long time. She looked at the places around us, searching for something.