by Angela Foxxe
“I will not,” her father said sternly. “Your brother is working hard in the city and your sister is going to college to get everything out of life that she can. Why do you think that you deserve anything different than they do? You’re prostituting yourself out so that you can make a fast fortune, but I assure you, it’ll be more trouble than you’ll want. I can promise you that.”
“I’m not prostituting myself out,” Tasha shouted at him, tired of having the same old conversation. He believed that there was nothing good about what she was doing, only because he had absolutely no idea what it was that she was planning.
“They’re paying me to be a surrogate. They want someone to have their baby for them and who is capable of doing so, without any bodily harm or physical complications. I’ve never had alcohol, drugs, or even smoked a cigarette in my life. I’m young and I’ve never even had a child, so all the doctors that I’ve spoken to say that it’s going to be quick and painless.”
“They are using you as you would a common whore,” her father said in his fierce, Bible belt ignorance that she’d adapted to when she was a child.
Growing up in his house was always a constant sermon about a virtue or a righteous person becoming a victim of debauchery and the sodomy of the common ways. It was incessant and it was something that Tasha was used to.
“I’m helping a couple have a child, Dad,” Tasha said, feeling nothing but rage and anger swelling inside of her. “Yes, they’re paying me for my time and my service to them, but that’s fair to me. I’m okay with being the one who helps them have a child. If you’ve can’t get over that, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
“You strut around in your tight clothes and in your fancy makeup,” her Dad shook his head. “You make all these boys want to have sex with you and then you go ahead and have sex for a living. That’s a prostitute, Tasha. We raised you better than that.”
“I can’t have this conversation anymore,” Tasha threw up her hands in defeat. There was no getting through to him. “I’m getting on my plane tomorrow, I’m going to New York, I’m going to nail the last part of the audition process, and I’m going to help a couple give birth to a child like a decent human being.”
“Well don’t expect a congratulations from me,” her Dad shouted at her from the kitchen table. “A woman shouldn’t give up her child. It’s against God to do something like that. You don’t want to be that kind of woman, Tasha.”
Outside on the porch, Tasha listened to the door slam and looked up at the stars that she could see all across the heavens. There was no getting through to him. There was nothing on her mind right now but rage. She wanted to scream at her father and tell him how ignorant he was, but that would do absolutely nothing and she knew it. There was no way that he would ever understand what surrogacy was or what it was that she was trying to do for these people.
Sure, she was getting paid for what she was doing, but that didn’t mean that she was going to be a prostitute. It meant that she was a good person who actually cared about the well-being of herself and others. She wasn’t going to just give up on everything she could possibly have. She wanted more for herself and she wanted more from others who could benefit her. Hopefully, there would be someone who wished more for her later on down the road, should she need it.
“Dad giving you crap again?” Kendra asked, sitting on the hanging rocker, wrapped up in a blanket as she looked out across the yard. She looked at her sister, pretty as a painting, but always living in the shadow of her older sister’s beauty and radiance.
There was something bitter deep inside of Kendra and it was festering for years, but going forward, she knew that Kendra would be happier. After all, it was Tasha who was giving Kendra the mantle of golden child now.
“As always,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“He’ll get over it,” Kendra said with a grin, scooting over for Tasha to sit down next to her. Walking over, Tasha took her spot next to her sister and smiled at her. “He always gets over whatever you do.”
“This isn’t a C on my math test,” Tasha shook her head. “He’s never going to forgive me for something he doesn’t understand.”
“Sure he will,” Kendra grumbled. “He will.”
“Well, enjoy being in his good graces,” Tasha exhaled, feeling like there was a burden hanging over her, invisible and lethal.
“Oh, I will,” Kendra smiled.
*
When the airplane touched down in New York, it was the last time she was ever going to have to spend her own hard earned money. As far as she was concerned, this was the very end of her troubles and she would be under the employment of another. She was going to make a fortune and she was going to make certain that she succeeded in this last part of the arrangement. Making her way through JFK, she decided that she would wait to spend the money in her mind. It had been hard to debate what she would buy first, but she knew that it was foolish to make such plots until the job was hers. Besides, she was going to have nine months to plot and plan how she would spend the money she had in her bank account.
She found a man was waiting for her at the airport baggage claim area, past the bustling numbers of people making their way across the airport to their various destinations. It was a busy and even claustrophobic, but she made her way to the man who was holding up a sign with her name on it.
“I’m Tasha,” she said to the man.
He looked at her though sunglasses, watching her with a stern, hard expression on his face. There was nothing that seemed to move him. When she stood in front of him, he turned his head slightly and looked at her through those dark lenses of his. He had the build of a man who didn’t care about a thing other than his physical appearance. That was something that alarmed her. There was no thought or discernment on his features. His suit was as dark as a well at midnight, clean and crisp, nothing that would give away that he was anything more than a corporate lackey. There was no doubt in her mind that if she stripped him of his fancy suit, she would find a chiseled body that had been crafted after years of hard labor and hard toiling.
It was a curious thing to be standing near someone who was so handsome and yet so apathetic to her appearance. She looked at him and watched as he turned around and headed for the entrance to the airport.
“We are going to the Matterhorn Building,” the man said as they approached a glossy, jet-black town car that looked exactly as imposing as it should. Of course, this was the man who was supposed to be driving this car. “You and the other applicants will meet there before the final screening process commences. Should you fail to pass through all of the examinations that will be required of you, then you will meet back with me and I will make sure that you are returned to the airport. Your ticket will be your own to purchase and the Matterhorn Company will not pay for the cost of your return.”
“Good to know,” Tasha said as he held open the door for her.
She looked at him and wondered if he was gay or married. There had to be some reason for his apathy toward her. She was stunning. She was ravishing. There was no way that this man could be so apathetic about her charms. Looking at him, she saw that there was no ring on his finger. He must be in a very good relationship, or he just wasn’t interested. As he closed the door, Tasha felt like a used tissue. Before there was a chance for her to say anything more to him, he was in the front of the car, starting the engine and beginning the long process to get them out of the airport and the parking lot.
Tasha had never seen New York City and it was something that was truly marvelous, truly beyond the words that she could find within her vocabulary. Everything was so busy, so large, and so diverse. Compared to where she was born and raised, everything seemed so much grander here, so much larger. It was unlike anything she had ever seen.
The largest city she had visited until this point was Boise. It was at this moment that she truly realized how small she was and how little of the world she had experienced.
Strangely enough, this felt like
a birth of sorts, for her. It felt like the beginning of something that was much larger and grander than anything that she had experienced before this point. Her entire life had been in a small pond and it was today that she realized how much more the world had to offer her and everyone else. That made her begin to question things. She glanced at the driver, his eyes on the road and not looking back at her, so she felt her breasts and wondered if they were all right. They were a great size, she could feel her nipples and they were perky, puffy, but not enormous or long. She had no extra weight and her ass had been sculpted by millions of squats. Her entire body was her temple and she had tried her hardest.
But what it if wasn’t enough. What if it wasn’t good enough for her to keep going down this road? All she could think about was the fact that she might not be everything that she thought she was. She obviously had to be less than everything else. This was New York City, after all. Everything there was in New York City made her look like she was nothing compared to the multitudes of beauties. How many women were there in New York City? How many of them were models, fitness fanatics, or naturally attractive? How many of them were capable of something beyond what she was capable of? All she had done by herself was something completely simple through isolation and her motivation.
Everything from nutrition to her weight training, her entire body was sculpted because she had no money and she only had her own initiative. But what was that compared to the women here who must have had all sorts of people who could teach them and show them everything they could do to make their bodies the best that they could.
She was now terrified. Everything about this scared her. How could she possibly succeed at this now? How could she even come close to success when there were so many team efforts out there?
When the car pulled up to the Matterhorn Building, all she could see was the glossy, shiny exterior of the building; stone and glass in beautiful harmony all together in one beautiful mixture. She looked at the towering structure and wondered how someone could build such a place. It would have to cost millions of dollars, more money than she would ever see in her lifetime or even know how to get a hold of.
She took a deep breath and braced herself for what was to come. The driver parked the car and walked around the town car, looking anywhere but where she was. As the door opened and the cool air blew in and kissed her, she stepped out of the car and looked at the building. This was her date with destiny. This was the moment that she had been waiting for and she would meet it with bravery and courage. She wouldn’t be afraid of what was waiting for her.
“Good luck,” the driver said to her without a drop of emotion in his voice.
She looked at him and did her best to give him the most disinterested, blasé look she could. As he closed the door behind her, she knew that he was looking at her ass. She knew that he was interested in her; he was just good at hiding it. Who wouldn’t want to tear her clothes off and have their way with her? She smiled, seeing his eyes crawl over her in the reflection of the mirrored windows.
She wasn’t sure what it was that she was going to do when she got into that building. There was something ominous and terrifying about it. The structure was completely beautiful and completely mysterious. Everything about it looked like a façade, hiding something inside of it. Whether it was sinister or not, that had yet to reveal itself to her. She figured that she would know soon enough. It was only a matter of time until she found out everything that she wanted to know about this place. She was going to see the inner workings and designs of it all. She held her breath as she reached out and took hold of the door, opening it and feeling the cool air dancing all over her as she entered.
It was a strange sanctum inside. There was something professional and handsome about all of the features that were decorating the interior. They looked like they had been picked out and selected by the most discerning and wise eye. There wasn’t too much, so that it didn’t look cluttered, but it wasn’t Spartan either. It was just the right amount of decoration that made it look sophisticated and modern at the same time. It was a harbor for dark colors, letting the windows that stretched high to the vaulted ceilings, be the source of the warm and welcoming light that filled the cavernous room and glinted off the floor, sparkling on the tiles.
There were people on cell phones talking to unknown recipients while others congregated in small groups or scurried toward the elevators or the stairs, making their way up to their destinations. It was a bustling room, boiling with the soft conversations of dozens, but the reception desk was where Tasha knew she needed to go present herself.
Walking up to the desk, she smiled at the handsome man behind the desk, whose eyes twinkled and glittered with life and excitement.
“My name is Tasha,” she said with a friendly smile – a smile that stole hearts. “I’m here for a surrogacy application appointment, but I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go.”
The man smiled at her politely, his eyes wide with hospitality and kindness. He had the look of a young man who was grateful for the opportunity to be where he was. It was that look of ambition and drive that made her think of her younger brother. Since he graduated from high school, he’d jumped into the world looking for whatever job and whatever chances he could get his hands on, and he took them. The attractive young man worked on his computer for a moment before he turned his glossy eyes toward her and flashed his smile once more.
“The applicants are meeting in the lounge right now,” he informed her with a soft voice that was a bit too feminine for his build, but she didn’t mind it. She wouldn’t judge him for that. “There’s food and drinks inside the lounge for you to enjoy. Please relax and when all the applicants have arrived, Mr. Gregory will begin the final stage of the application process.”
She looked at him and nodded, feeling that sense of terror returning again. What was she doing here? She was way out of her depth here. She wasn’t prepared for what was going on. Instead, she should pack up now and head home, call it quits and save some dignity before it was spelled out for her.
“Good luck,” the man said to her, gesturing to the side where there was an entrance surrounded by frosted glass, which hid the figures behind it. All she could see were the forms of beautiful women.
Taking a deep breath, Tasha knew that she wasn’t going to walk away from this. She liked her body, she loved her mind, and the person that she was. She liked people appreciating her and enjoyed being of value in the world. There was nothing about this that she felt good about, but there was no way she was going to give up. She had worked so hard for this and she wasn’t backing down now. Holding her breath inside of her, rallying her courage, slowly letting it out, and stabilizing her shaking hand, Tasha gripped the handle and opened the door.
Inside, the lounge was so incredibly beautiful, the kind of place that you would see in movies or picture when you tried to think of where the rich and famous spend their time. She felt like such a country bumpkin when she was in the presence of these places. The black marble floor was polished to such a shine that she could practically see a detailed reflection of herself when she looked down at her feet. The furniture was very modern, very sleek and probably cost more than she would be making for this job.
There was a woman, professionally dressed, behind a bar who was wiping down a bar that looked immaculate enough that one could eat off of it. It seemed foolish that anyone would ever think that it was dirty. She looked at Tasha with cool blue eyes, eyes that were full of unspoken thoughts that haunted her. The woman offered a smile before her eyes flicked in the direction of the other women.
There were three other women here who had beaten her to the punch. Tasha thought she was going to be early, but she was proved utterly wrong. There were three goddesses already sitting in the room, each of them looking like supermodels frozen and put on display in the most luxurious and alluring position that was available. She looked at all of them, taking each of them in one at a time, studying them and trying her hardest to fi
nd a weakness, something to make her rise above them. It was difficult for her to find a fault or an issue with each of them. It was like sifting through a vat of gold in hopes of finding a speck of dust.
The first was a redhead who was sitting on a couch with her legs crossed, delicately touching her chin as she stared off into the void. She was thin and delicately formed. While there was little muscle on her, which by no means meant that she was weak. Her chin was sharp, as were her cheekbones. Her eyes were a sparkling pair of sapphires that glittered and filled her with a strange sort of fire. It was like there was something within them that burned through her.
She wore a top that was bafflingly slinky and revealed her chest and cleavage, but strangely enough, through some kind of magic, Tasha thought, it didn’t show her nipples, her skirt was tight and showed of her long, smooth legs that weren’t nearly as defined as Tasha’s, but still had a presence that was unavoidable.
The second woman was standing, pacing back and forth without any interest in Tasha at all. Her skin was dark, like rich mahogany and her eyes were black as onyx, glinting in the light from the walls. Her features were soft, but they were powerful. She did not have a weave or anything to make her not look natural. Her hair was big, it was glorious, and it made a statement. She was wearing a yellow dress that hugged her, revealing her shoulders and her strong arms. As she walked in her yellow heels, she looked regal, majestic, and powerful. There was something about the way she moved that suggested strength and fearlessness. She was a contender that Tasha felt truly worried about. On her wrists, bangles tinkled and danced with a lively song that dug at Tasha.
The last woman had long black hair cut into a bob that looked impossible to move. It was almost as if it had been adhered to her head and not a single hair was out of place. She sat on the arm of a couch across from the red-haired girl and stared at her phone. She wore a choker around her graceful, pale neck and she wore a halter top shirt that hugged her body so tight that it looked like it might strangle her. Her tight pants fitted her so closely that she was going to have to cut herself out of them to get out.