Surrogate For The Billionaire

By: Tyra Small

“Can I help you?” A slender woman with dark hair asked, her head turning slightly sideways like a puppy as she talked.

Lateisha reigned in a laugh, clearing her throat before she spoke. “I’m wondering which floor to find Mr. Henderson?” She asked, self consciously tugging on her blouse again. Why were dress clothes so stuffy?

“And you are?” She asked, her voice trailing off.

Lateisha sighed. “Lateisha Aaron,” She answered with irritation. What was she, his personal body guard?

“Oh! Mr. Henderson is expecting you. Take the elevator all the way to the top floor. The assistant up there will help you.”

Lateisha nodded, mumbling her thanks as she clicked her way to the elevator which was on the other side of the lobby. Looking around at the lobby as she waited for the elevator car to reach her proved interesting. The lobby was fairly empty save for the woman at the information desk, the security guard by the door and the odd employee moving from here to there. The space was relatively large and impressively decorated; from the marble floors to the light cream walls. Lateisha even noticed several paintings that looked to be for sale hanging on the walls. The doors to the elevator slid open and Lateisha entered. When the doors to the elevator closed Lateisha sagged against the wall. Her feet were already protesting their confinement in the pointy toed pumps and she ached to slip them off and rub her arches. Unfortunately for her the ride to the top was rather quick, leaving her slightly queasy with the feeling of vertigo, so taking her shoes off was not an option.

Lateisha stepped from the elevator and looked around. The same color scheme and marble floors decorated the sixteenth floor. Everything screamed of wealth. Lateisha felt even more uncomfortable in her polyester dress clothes and tugged at her shirt once more. Taking a deep breath she started towards the double glass doors at the end of the hall where the elevators were located. Through the door she could see a woman with short blond hair and severe cheekbones behind a large desk. A tug at the doors indicated that they were locked. Feeling foolish, Lateisha stood there and waited for the blond woman to look up. Finally catching her eye, Lateisha motioned to the doors with her hand. A click sounded indicating the doors were unlocked and she pulled the door open and walked in. Why the woman couldn’t have done that the second she saw her step off the elevator was a mystery. She must be on a power trip, Lateisha thought with a snort.

“Can I help you?” Ms. Power Trip asked.

“I’m looking for Mr. Henderson, he’s expecting me,” Lateisha said trying to hold back the rude remark on the tip of her tongue. Of course Ms. Power Trip knew she was supposed to be there, the woman in the lobby called up.

“Right, and you are?” Power Trip asked with a note of condescension.

Lateisha frowned, biting back the comment for a second time. She needed this money and didn’t want to jeopardize it because of some bitchy receptionist.

“Lateisha Aaron. I told this all to the woman down…”

The blonde bitch held up her finger at Lateisha like she was a child, “Yes. Well take a seat he will be right with you.”

Lateisha took a deep breath and cursed under her breath. This was bullshit and she didn’t have time for snooty, rich assholes. On the verge of leaving she turned towards the glass double doors, poised to grip the handle.

“Lateisha?” A man said, the hint of a British accent just under the surface of his deep voice.

Lateisha turned, her face distorting with surprise at the person attached to the voice. That was Mr. Henderson? He was at least six-foot-two, with light brown hair grazing his forehead, hazel eyes and the looks of a GQ model. Momentarily frozen in place by the revelation that Mr. Henderson was not a sixty-five year old man, Lateisha stood in front of the doors, her jaw practically touching the floor. Why did she think he was an old guy? Maybe she was thinking that because what kind of hot guy in his twenties would want to have a baby by surrogate?

Finding her voice, finally, Lateisha spoke up, “Hi Mr. Henderson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lateisha stepped up and offered her hand.

“Please, call me Bryce,” He said, shaking her hand with a tight grip. “Please come with me,” He added, turning and starting down a short hall and into another doorway.

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