Page 12 of Doctor Daddies

MILLIE

“Hello?”

I answer my phone the second I feel it buzzing against my side, turning away from the grocery store clerk who’s currently packing up my stuff. It could be a call from the temping agency, and I know leaving it to ring for more than a few seconds is always going to make you look uninterested.

“Hi, Millie?”

“Yes, it’s me,” I greet the woman on the other end of the line, as the clerk looks at me pointedly, waiting for me to pick up where I left off with packing my groceries.

“We have an offer from a private agency that we’d like you to take a look at,” she explains to me, as I try to cram my stuff into bags with one hand while smiling at the clerk in the hopes she doesn’t get too irritated with me.

“Oh, really? That sounds great.”

“You don’t even know what it is yet,” she points out, and I wince. I don’t want to sound as though I’ll just take any job right now, but honestly, it’s not far from the truth.

There’s almost nothing I wouldn’t jump at right now, if it meant that I could bring in a little money for Lewis and me. Things have been seriously strained financially over the last few months, and I’ve gone through the last of my savings. I’m down to the final few hundred dollars in my bank account, and if I don’t do something to improve my standing soon, I know I’ll be in serious trouble.

“Right, yeah, sorry,” I mumble. “I…”

“It’s not got much in the common with the previous work you’ve done for us,” she remarks, and I notice a slightly delicate tone to her voice, almost as though she might be trying to bury the lede. “But I can send over the contracts to you via email if you want to take a look over them and decide for yourself.”

“That would be great,” I reply. “Thank you.”

She hangs up before I can even say goodbye, and I hurry through the rest of my grocery shopping and head back toward the apartment. I have to pick up Lewis in an hour or so, but I have just enough time to glance over everything she wants me to see so I can figure out just what kind of job is on the line here.

As I rush home, I can’t help but turn over what she said to me a few more times. The way she was speaking, it almost sounded like she was unsure of even passing along the job. But what could be so weird that it would give her pause?

I brush the questions out of my mind as I get back to the apartment, reminding myself of how badly I need a cashinjection right now, and open up my clunky old laptop to see what she has sent through for me.

The email is waiting for me when I open my inbox, and I hover over the message for a moment before I open it, somehow nervous. Which is ridiculous, because all I’m doing is looking at a few contracts, but I can’t help but wonder if she would think I’m ungrateful if I turn this thing down. Not that I don’t need the work, but there are some things…

Don’t be silly.I click the email and open up the attachment, watching as it pops up to fill the screen while the fan whirs loudly. As my gaze settles on the wording at the top of the page, my heart nearly stops.

Surrogacy agreement.

For a second, I think I must have read the damn thing wrong, because there’s no way on earth—no way in hell it could say something like that, could it?

My mind reels. Surrogacy means…means carrying a child for someone else, doesn’t it?

Which is something that I’ve never done before.

I mean, yes, I gave birth to Lewis, but this is different. This would be carrying a child that I would then just hand off to someone else once it was born, the thought of which is enough to make my chest ache.

I push those thoughts aside and continue to read, deciding that I should at least give this thing a look. And when I see the money they’re offering, my eyes nearly bug out of my head.

Holy shit.

Two million dollars.Half paid upfront, and half after I give birth, with all medical expenses paid for. Every detail accounted for, with the money laid out like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

I sit back in my seat for a moment, trying to take in the enormity of that number. That’s more money than I’ve ever had in my life, by a long shot. More money than what someone like me is ever likely to make, come to that. The kind of money that would change everything, not just for me, but for Lewis too.

I could get him into one of those specialist schools if I took this job. Pay for his tuition for years upfront. I wouldn’t even have to work full-time to do it, I would still be able to spend most of my time with him, and though it might take a lot of explaining, if he understands that I’m doing it to take care of him…

Suddenly, reality comes piercing through the veil of my fantasy.

Lewis. What the hell would I tell Lewis? How could he be expected to make sense of his mother going through a full-blown pregnancy, and then he doesn’t even get to meet his sibling? It would be too much for him to take. The stress would drive him crazy, and I know better than anyone just how bad it can make things. Maybe if I asked these people, whoever they were, to cover the cost ofhismedical expenses too, then I would be able to…

Which brings me to another matter. Who exactly is asking me to do this in the first place?