Chapter 4 Unorthodox Proposal

“I don’t want to waste your time,” Joemar finally said, “so I’ll get right down to it. The folder on the left contains the standard commercial surrogacy contract from the agency. I’m sure you’re familiar with in-vitro fertilization. Your eggs will be harvested, inseminated with my sperm, and then the resulting embryos will be implanted in your uterus.”

I opened the folder and skimmed the first page of the document. My eyes automatically locked onto the dollar signs halfway down the page:

$50,000 upon implantation of embryos.

$50,000 upon a successful pregnancy.

$100,000 upon the birth of the child.

I re-read the numbers two more times. I had expected to earn around $200,000 for the entire surrogacy, but this was more than twice that amount! Maybe the higher payment had to do with the NDA I signed, and the secrecy that this yacht-owning couple desired.

Suddenly, I stopped caring about how Joemar had access to my information before I was in the database. My instincts told me to sign the contract as quickly as possible before he and his wife changed their minds.

“This sounds good to me,” I said, reaching for a pen on the desk.

Joemar put his hand over mine to stop me. His fingers were strangely frigid. “Before you sign this contract, we have a second offer. If you’re willing to hear it.”

A second offer? Probably related to multiple pregnancies. It wasn’t uncommon for couples to use the same surrogate again after the first pregnancy.

“Okay,” I said slowly.

Joemar leaned over my shoulder and pulled the second folder closer to me. The scent of his cologne hung in the air, subtle yet alluring.

“This contract is…” Joemar crossed one leg over the other and clasped his hands over his knee, searching around for the right word. “Unorthodox,” he finally said.

Only then, with his hands clasped over his knee, did I realize two things. Firstly: he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. I hadn’t imagined unmarried couples trying surrogacy, but then again, someone with this much money could do whatever they wanted.

Secondly, I noticed the tattoos running up his forearm.

“You’re the fishing guy!” I blurted out.

“Fishing guy?” Joemar asked, as if he had never heard either word spoken before.

“When we landed on the boat. You were the guy diving into the ocean with a spear. You caught three lobsters.”

“Four,” Joemar replied with a small smile. “I caught a live one with my bare hand.”

“You own this yacht, but you catch your own meals?”

Joemar’s emerald gaze narrowed. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

Joemar cleared his throat. “May I suggest we return to the subject at hand? The second contract.”

I looked back down at the contract, though I wanted to continue examining the strange billionaire across the desk. “You said this contract is unorthodox. What’s unorthodox about it?” I asked. The stack of papers inside looked thicker than the first, so I didn’t bother opening the folder. “Is it the payout structure?”

Joemar exchanged a look with Tristan, who was still standing next to the desk, watching passively.

“Not exactly,” Joemar said slowly. He maintained an intense amount of eye-contact, but I refused to look away. I wouldn’t be intimidated by someone just because they had money. “I know quite a few people who have tried, and failed, at surrogacy.”

“It’s not a guarantee,” I said. “Surrogacy success rates are around 75%, I’ve come to learn.”

Joemar nodded. “In addition, I believe there are other drawbacks to IVF pregnancies. I won’t elaborate on my opinion at this time. But the point I’m driving at is that everything is so artificial these days.”

“Artificial?”

“Nothing is real anymore,” Joemar explained, his deep voice full of emotion. “Everything is a pale imitation of how it used to be. Instead of getting together in person with friends, we interact on social media. Rather than going for a jog through a neighborhood, we run on treadmills with computer screens to pretend like we’re actually moving. We have pills to fall asleep, pills to keep us awake, pills to get our dicks hard. Vitamin-D supplements instead of time in the sun. Multivitamins instead of a balanced diet.”

He shook his head and stared off. “Nothing is real anymore. And it gets worse every single day.” It sounded like the kind of rant he’d made before, every beat and emphasis well-practiced.

“I don’t disagree, I guess,” I replied carefully. “But what does this have to do with me?”

Joemar let out a long breath, and regarded me once more. “With so much falseness in the world, I don’t want my child’s life to begin artificially. I want my child to be conceived naturally.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in.

“Wait, what?”

I heard the door behind me open, and Andre walked in with a tray of drinks.

“You can’t be serious,” I said.

“You will find that I am, if nothing else, a serious man,” Joemar replied dryly. “All the details are contained in the second contract.”

Joemar reached out and tapped the folder for emphasis.

And in the blink of an eye, all of it made sense. The lack of a wedding ring. All the mentions of Mr. Soriano, but never Mrs. Soriano. Being flown onto a goddamn yacht off the coast of Palawan Island. He wasn’t trying to impress me because I was a potential surrogate: he was trying to impress me because he wanted to sleep with me.

I turned to Andre Rivero, who was placing glasses of cucumber water onto coasters on the desk. “You flew me here to be a glorified prostitute for this man?”

He chuckled. “That seems like an oversimplification…”

Oh my God, I thought. My mom was right. This was a mistake.

“I warned you that this was an unorthodox proposal,” Joemar said.

“It’s more than unorthodox,” I shot back. “It’s fucking insane!”

“Such language,” Joemar murmured.

I whirled toward the man, my anger rising.

“If you choose the second contract,” Joemar continued, “you will stay with me for a period of six months, or until such a time that you become pregnant, whichever comes first. There is also an option to extend this period to twelve months

“Staying with you?” I stammered. “On your yacht?”

“And my other residences, yes,” Joemar answered. “I have several trips planned in the next six months. You will, of course, accompany me wherever I go.”

“Oh, of course,” I said sarcastically. “What about my apartment? Or my job? You just expect me to drop everything to follow you around to all your rich-person places?”

Joemar gave me a small smile. “Rich-person places. I like that.”

 “You are currently unemployed,” Joemar said formally. “And as for your apartment, we will take care of all financial responsibilities you may have for the duration of the contract. Any belongings you may need will be retrieved from your apartment. We have men prepared to gather such things once the contract is signed.”

“Men?” I blurted out. “What do you mean, you have men prepared? Like, you just have men on retainer ready to loot my apartment? To sift through my underwear drawer like perverts?”

Joemar cleared his throat. “I use the term men in the colloquial sense. I can assure you it will be a woman who handles all of your clothing arrangements, both at your apartment and anything else that needs to be acquired at a later time.”

I tried not to laugh in their faces. This was unbelievable. I felt like I was being pranked, but even this scenario seemed too outrageous for that. Joemar was calmly staring at me from across the desk as if this was all normal.

But what frustrated me the most was how they all acted like it was a foregone conclusion that I was guaranteed to sign the contract like I had no say in the matter. My anger continued to rise, and I finally let some of it out.

“You picked me out of the database like a mail-order bride. You did it before I was even in the database! What about me caught your attention? Did you like my hair?” I gave it a toss. “Is it my tits you want to fuck? Huh?”

“This has nothing to do with sex,” Joemar said calmly. Too calmly.

I smacked the second folder with my palm. “Apparently, it has everything to do with sex! So what was it? What drew you to me? Have you had your men stalking me for the past two weeks, snapping photos whenever I bend over?”

“You graduated summa cum laude from university with a double-major in Business Administration and Marketing. You were a walk-on for the women’s soccer team, and were a starting forward all four years. In high school, you were a varsity athlete in soccer, softball, basketball, and golf.”

The sudden flurry of information caught me off guard. “I never got my varsity letter in basketball. I was splitting time with soccer, and never played a full season.”

“You played a full season your sophomore year,” Roman Gomez corrected from his place next to the desk. “However, your coach chose not to award you a varsity letter upon the conclusion of the season.”

“Thanks for telling me my own history, creep,” I muttered.

“Apparently, your basketball coach didn’t like your attitude,” Roman said.

I turned back to him. “It’s just as creepy when you do it, no matter how much money you have.”

Joemar spread his large hands. “Nevertheless, we are answering your question. This was why I chose you to be my surrogate. You’re incredibly intelligent. You are fiercely independent. You’re elite at a number of sports. You have no family history of heart disease, dementia, or diabetes. And, to put it bluntly, you’re attractive. You’re the perfect surrogate for my future child.”

XXX