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Twins for Brother's Best Friend

Page 5

by Sofia T Summers


  In the end, I decided not to. “She had a condition, though.”

  Garrett laughed and nodded. “With Greta, there’s always a condition. That girl knows how to negotiate. At least you know your kid’s going to be one hell of a negotiator. He or she can even be a lawyer, like me.”

  I narrowed my eyes slightly and shook my head. “The whole point of having this kid is for him, or her, to inherit this business, Garrett.”

  “I know. I was just making a joke. You are so touchy. What is going on with you?”

  “Nothing! I’m fine.”

  “Is it Greta’s condition?”

  My heart sank into my shoes and my shoulders slumped. “What condition?” Did she have some sort of illness or disease that could compromise this arrangement?

  “You said she had a condition,” he stated with a frown.

  “Oh, right. No, the condition isn’t anything. I actually prefer it that way.”

  “And it is…?”

  “She wants you to be in charge of the entire contract. Set it up, get it signed…all of it,” I answered.

  “Sure. I’d love to. It’s going to cost you though.”

  I scoffed loudly. “Doesn’t it always?”

  “Did she say when she wanted the contract?”

  “As soon as you can, please. I want it signed by both of us, so we can get this thing started as fast as possible,” I answered and reached for my phone. “That reminds me. I have to call the fertility clinic and arrange an appointment for Greta. To check whether everything is alright and to know about the intricacies of the forthcoming steps.”

  “You do that,” Garrett said and rose to his feet. “I’ll get that contract drawn up as quickly as I can and get it to both of you.”

  “Thanks, Garrett. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” he said with a wink as he left my office.

  I drew in a deep breath, thinking about this whole affair, and I couldn’t believe that I had actually agreed to go along with it. Not that Uncle Anthony had left me with any other choice. My future was clear – have a baby in the next sixteen months or lose the company.

  Lost in thoughts, I turned to my laptop but accidentally knocked down the empty glass on my desk. Unable to catch it before it fell to the floor, the glass shattered into hundreds of pieces. That noise took me back to nearly fifteen years ago, when the accident had happened. I couldn’t stop those feelings from rising to the surface and the memories to flood my mind, as if it had only happened last night. It was still a fresh wound in my mind.

  The screeching of the tires, the loud crash of the two cars against one another, and the impact that knocked the wind right out of me. The shattering of the windscreen and my mother’s screams. The blackness that enveloped me for what seemed like ages, though I could hear sirens in the distance. Hope rushed out of my body as I held my mother’s lifeless hand in mine, my father telling to stay calm even as his own life was draining out from him. But some stranger’s arms reached for me, pulled me out of the car and I shouted for my parents, who were lying lifeless inside the car. My chest felt so tight when I was placed on a gurney in the ambulance. I couldn’t breathe and they had to force me to breathe in air. Then, the next day, I remember the emptiness in my heart when the doctors told me that my parents had not survived the accident.

  I blinked to not only get rid of the memory, but also to avoid tearing up. The past was all gone, and I was alone again. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked down at the sharp shards on the floor.

  Fifteen years wasn’t a long enough time to get rid of those memories. Thinking about that night still managed to completely stupefy me, rip my heart out and lay it out on the floor like the broken glass.

  With a shaky hand, I dialed my assistant Holly’s number.

  “Yes, Mr. Marcus?”

  “Will you please call the cleaner? I accidentally knocked over a glass and now there’s shards all over the floor.”

  “Are you okay, sir?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I told her and hung up the phone.

  Was I fine though?

  Later that night, as I opened the door of my house, I realized for the first time, how quiet and peaceful it was. This was my home, my happy place. I could not help but imagine what it would be in the coming year and the years after that. They say that kids bring chaos into your life, and even though I was terrified of what was about to happen, I knew that it was the right thing to do.

  Asking Greta to be my surrogate was also the best idea. I trusted her and knew she wasn’t the type of person who would put my child’s life at risk in any way.

  I paused in my tracks as I caught sight of myself in the hallway mirror and pursed my lips. I was going to be a father. A single father, with no experience with babies.

  How hard could it be, right?

  Before overthinking about it for the millionth time today, I headed to my bedroom, took off my clothes and took a shower. I was tired and overwhelmed, not to mention stressed about this whole surrogacy thing with Greta, the fertility clinic, and the baby. Then, there was Andrew, who was adamant to steal my company from me. Well, I had news for him.

  I got this shit handled, you bastard.

  After the hot shower, I climbed into bed and turned off the light, welcoming a hopefully peaceful slumber. As I drifted off to sleep, memories of Greta filled my mind, private memories that I had never shared with anyone else. The dream came to me instantly – that I was back in that steam-filled bathroom, the water spraying down on our naked bodies from the shower overhead.

  Greta’s hazel eyes stared at me intently, and I asked her, “You want more?”

  “I do,” she panted.

  She parted her lips, letting me kiss her again. My hands moved up her waist, pausing at her breasts, and I squeezed them lightly. She moaned again, filling my whole body with desire, making me want her even more.

  I wanted her desperately, but I didn’t want to be rough. She’d said that she was a virgin, so I wanted to make this as memorable as possible for her. I wanted to take it slow, but when I felt her grab my cock, I pulled away from her. I drew in a few breaths and glanced at her, a little surprised at her eagerness. She leaned back against the tiles, staring intently at me, the water running down her naked body. Her chest moved up and down in ragged breaths. Meanwhile, my heart was pounding loudly as the initial shock wore off and I was filled with excitement and desire.

  I moved closer to her and she lifted her leg up to rest on the tip of the bathtub, so that I could see her completely. I grabbed her thigh and held her leg in place. Touching her gently, making her wet, I slowly guided my cock over her clitoris, rubbing it to increase her pleasure.

  Her lips parted and her breathing got heavier, her eyes begging me to stop teasing her. I smiled and slowly slid the tip of my cock into her and she leaned her head back against the wall. Her breathing quickened, and I could tell that she was more nervous than she wanted me to believe.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered.

  She nodded. “Keep going.”

  I thrust my cock a little deeper, and she bit her bottom lip, pain and pleasure both washing over her. But she didn’t ask me to stop, so I continued with the motion of sliding in and out, increasing the pace of each thrust against the slight resistance of her tight pussy. Once my cock was all the way inside her, I guided her hips into a slow rhythm against my thrusts. Now, she was completely overwhelmed with pleasure.

  “Oh my God!” she panted.

  I gripped her hip even tighter as my rhythm and intensity increased further. Watching her eyes roll back into her head from the sheer pleasure, her lips parting, and the slow moans escaping her overtook me with wild desire.

  I’d be lying if I said that having sex with Greta had never crossed my mind. But I had never thought that it would actually happen! With Garrett just downstairs, the whole thing was dangerous and highly reckless of me.

  Reckless, but fucking exciting!

  6

  Greta


  I had never thought that I would be nervous for an OB/GYN appointment. It was further exacerbated by Isaac impatiently tapping his fingers on the armrest of the waiting room chair. My heart was pumping blood on overdrive, it seemed. The repetitive tapping sound was getting on my nerves so much that I looked sharply at Isaac to admonish him.

  “What?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Can you stop that, please?”

  He stopped tapping, but that just made the silence of the waiting room more pronounced. My nervousness did not subside now that I could hear the clacking of the front desk keyboard, the faint beeping sounds of the machines, and the strong smell of hospital floor cleaner. The pounding in my heart started echoing in my ears. I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from overthinking.

  Suddenly, the door next to the reception area opened and a man in a lab coat stood in the doorway. “Mr. Marcus and Miss Gray,” he announced, looking at the iPad in his hand.

  We both stood up at the mention of our names and followed the doctor into the consultation room, Isaac closing the door behind us.

  “Good afternoon. I’m Doctor Fowler. Please, have a seat. Make yourselves comfortable.”

  The consultation room had been decorated like an uptown house. Isaac and I sat down on the comfortable dark blue couch that overlooked the Bay Area. The ample lighting, eclectic rugs on the floor, and tasteful portraits of women in various stages of labor made the whole room’s décor feel warm and welcoming. This put me at ease, which was great for my nerves.

  “So, Mr. Marcus-”

  “Please, call me Isaac.”

  The doctor nodded and proceeded to give us a rundown of the entire process, Isaac listening intently with a serious expression on his face. After the explanation was over, the doctor asked me to accompany him into the examination room, in order to do an internal exam. I undressed and got into a hospital gown, lying down on the gurney with my legs spread apart. Dr. Fowler put the jelly on my stomach and started examining me, asking me a few questions about my periods and overall health. Being much more at ease now, I answered calmly, and in 10 minutes he announced that he was done and assured me that everything seemed to be in order. He also remarked that I was currently ovulating, which I already knew.

  Dr. Fowler left the examination room to let me get dressed. Then I joined him and Isaac back in the consultation room. I sat beside Isaac and smiled at him nervously.

  “Well, the good news is that everything is working fine. Everything looks good, and Greta is also ovulating,” the doctor said. “We can wait for her next cycle to do an egg retrieval, which will give us some time to prepare.”

  “Doctor, with all due respect, I need Greta to be pregnant as quickly as possible. I can’t wait another month,” Isaac said with disapproval. “It has to be a sure thing. I can’t afford any delays.”

  “I understand that you are being put under pressure, Isaac, but it is not exactly a process that can be rushed. Even though Greta’s fallopian tubes and uterus looks great and are functioning properly, sometimes you can’t guarantee success.”

  “If I’m the one paying you, then it is!”

  I cringed at Isaac’s behavior. Sometimes, Isaac was rude with people. The doctor’s face was calm and emotionless, but I knew that he was a put off by Isaac’s demeanor. I wondered what was going on in Isaac’s mind, but knowing how protective he was of his feelings and life, it was likely that I’ll never know. At this moment, however, I did not want to be a part of this discussion, as it was getting ugly.

  “I don’t have time for inseminations that may not work. Can’t we just go directly with in vitro to guarantee that we have a fertilized egg as she is already ovulating?” he asked in a demanding tone.

  Continuing to stay calm, Doctor Fowler replied, “In vitro can be done, yes, but we’d need a sperm sample that has been tested in order to fertilize the ovum, which would need to be retrieved during a small procedure. Since Greta is still young and fertile, it seems like a drastic option.”

  “This situation calls for drastic action, Doctor,” Isaac noted. “How soon can you retrieve the egg?”

  “Well,” Doctor Fowler said as he shifted in his chair behind his desk, “This is a complex procedure that involves several exams and tests before the ovum can be retrieved. It will take at least a month. Luckily, with Greta being so fertile, she does not have to be on any hormone therapy or anything like that. So that is working in our favor. It is still a fifty-fifty chance of success, but I don’t anticipate any problems.”

  “And what does the actual procedure entail?” Isaac asked.

  “It’s called trans-vaginal ultrasound aspiration. Greta will be sedated and given pain medication. An ultrasound probe is inserted into the vaginal canal to identify follicles. Then a thin needle is inserted into an ultrasound guide into the follicles to retrieve the eggs. The needle is connected to a suction device, which then removes the eggs from the follicle. After the procedure, she may experience cramping and feelings of pressure, but nothing too serious.”

  My stomach turned as I listened to the doctor explain the procedure and I felt a wave of nausea in my throat. The procedure sounded painful and uncomfortable, but the only thing that made me stay seated in that consultation room was the thought of the money that would help my dying business. Also, there was the fact that I would be helping Isaac by having his baby.

  “Now, your part in this is very easy, Isaac,” the doctor continued and I raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. Of course, the male’s part is always easy. “You’ll provide a sperm sample the morning of the egg retrieval. The egg and the sperm are then mixed and incubated overnight. Two to five days later, when we have an embryo, we’ll do an embryo transfer. A usually painless procedure where we will insert the embryo into the uterus. If successful, the embryo will implant in the lining of the uterus about six to ten days after egg retrieval.”

  I swallowed hard and looked at Isaac with a worried expression, but he seemed unfazed. This was more than I had bargained for, even if I had agreed to it. Was there no way to change things now?

  More importantly, why couldn’t I just have sex with Isaac in the back of his car and get pregnant that way? The old-fashioned method seemed way easier than all these clinical methods.

  What was worse, the “men” were having their own little discussion, without involving me. They were busy being typical men to notice how uneasy I was feeling, or consult me on anything regarding the procedure. Sure, I was essentially hiring out my body to Isaac to have his child, but I was still a person. A human being with feelings and emotions, concerns and doubts. But clearly, that didn’t matter to them. I was just a vessel for a new life that I needed to create within nine months.

  Sitting there quietly, I was becoming angry and upset over the whole process. I was the one who had to go through all of this, having needles stuck into the most private of my body parts. I was the one who had to endure the pain and discomfort.

  And this was before I could get pregnant!

  I wondered what Isaac would say if I were to tell him that maybe we should try making a baby the normal way. No needles. No clinical terminology. The way nature intended.

  Because was in vitro even a sure thing? What if it didn’t work? What if my ovaries suddenly dried up and I could no longer give him a baby? What if I wasn’t as fertile as Dr. Fowler thought I was? All these negative thoughts made me nervous again, especially when I was supposed to be in optimum emotional and physical health to nurture a baby.

  I drew in a few deep breaths to calm myself. Thinking back to this morning, I replayed the overwhelming feeling I had when I checked my account balance and saw that it had a ton of zeros. I thought about how I had managed to build my business after all these years. I tried to think about what a million dollars could do for the company. I thought about not having to tell my employees that they would be losing their jobs. I thought about the mountain of debt that I could finally settle and restart my life on a clean slate with a
positive outlook.

  Then, I thought about Mad, who didn’t even know about this whole thing. We hadn’t talked in detail after I had had that first meeting with Isaac, because I had clearly become distracted by the surrogacy agreement. Before I had left for my appointment, Mad had asked me where I was going and I told her that it was a potential client. She had seemed happy to hear that. Technically, I wasn’t really lying to her, was I?

  I bit my lip and continued to listen to Isaac and the doctor discussing the timeframe again, and I twirled my long hair around my fingers, getting angrier. They were back to talking about me as an object, referring to my uterus and eggs as if they were Lego pieces you could take off and put back together at will. It was really annoying that I wasn’t being considered in this decision making. Did I even have a choice in this matter at all?

  I had hoped that at least Isaac would be sensitive to my feelings, as I was doing him the bigger favor. Would I have done all this, endured all this if it was just for the money? Thinking back on Isaac’s behavior though, I decided that for now, it was just about the money. However, ever then, was it worth being treated like an object with no feelings?

  “Greta?”

  The sound of Isaac calling me snapped me out of my thoughts and I jerked my head to look up at him. He was glancing at me expectantly, but I had missed most of the conversation.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I asked and untangled my fingers from my hair.

  Doctor Fowler smiled at me and asked calmly, “Do you have any questions about the procedures? Any concerns?”

  I glanced at him and pursed my lips. I was afraid of asking whether the procedure would hurt and if I’d be emotionally scarred. I didn’t want to tell Isaac that I wanted to change my mind now, that I was regretting my decision. But I couldn’t do either of those things. Isaac was relying on me to come through on my end of the deal.

  “No, I think you covered just about everything,” I answered, though nervously.

 

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