Surrogate For The Billionaire

By: Tyra Small

“Sorry,” Lateisha muttered, stepping back to let Bryce go through.

“Ladies first,” he said, and Lateisha couldn’t help the flutter her stomach gave at his accent and the way his hand rested on the small of her back, leading her from the elevator.

Get yourself together, Lateisha thought mentally kicking herself. She was going to ruin her chances with this surrogacy and the money she desperately needed. She could barely make ends meet as it was with the job at McDonald’s and her job prospects were pretty much non-existent; not that she was looking all that hard. Lateisha sighed and started towards the door, overly aware that Bryce was behind her as she exited the double doors to the sidewalk.

“Well, I’ll be in touch about the doctor’s appointment,” Bryce said, gesturing to the town car in front of him as if that was his ride.

“Right, just let me know,” Lateisha answered, more flustered than she wanted to be.

Bryce waved and then slid into the car. Lateisha turned to walk the opposite way down the street. A horn beeped and she jumped. The town car was stopped at the curb right next to her. Bryce rolled down the deeply tinted windows, his face slowly coming into view.

Lateisha almost laughed at the absurdity. She felt like she was Carrie in Sex and the City and he was Mr. Big.

“Can I help you?” She smirked, propping her hand on her hip.

Bryce chuckled and Lateisha’s heart flip flopped. It was the sexiest sound she ever heard.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to ask if you needed a ride. After I got in the car I realized how rude it was to just leave you standing on the sidewalk.” Bryce said, gesturing for her to get in the car as he slid across the seat to the opposite side.

“I’m headed downtown to work,” Lateisha said with embarrassment. The last thing she wanted was for him to take her to her job at the fast food place.

“That’s not too far out of my way. Hop in, I’ll take you.” Bryce insisted, pushing the door opened and scooting back to the other side.

Lateisha sighed; she didn’t feel like arguing. She gripped the door and pulled it open, sliding onto the leather seats and clutching her purse to her stomach. Glancing at Bryce, Lateisha’s stomach flipped with nerves. He turned and smiled at her waiting for her to give him directions to her job. She rattled it off from memory and sat back against the leather seats. Lateisha never felt this flustered or confused about anything. How would she get through nine months with him if she could barely manage a car ride down town?

By the time they reached Lateisha’s job her stomach was a mess of jitters. They rode the seven blocks in silence, and Lateisha wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“This is it,” She said pointing, reaching for the door handle before the car even stopped.

She needed some air.

“I’ll be in touch about the appointment,” Bryce said, flashing his thousand watt smile again. Lateisha melted on the inside but tried to fight it.

“Of course. Talk to you soon,” She replied stepping from the car quickly.

Lateisha didn’t look back; afraid she would see disgust in his eyes.

Chapter 2

Lateisha wiped a greasy gloved hand over her forehead. The kitchen felt like a furnace tonight and her shift was still three hours from being over. She scooped the fries into a cardboard basket and dropped them into a bag. Next went the burger, so greasy it was seeping through the paper. Grimacing with disgust, Lateisha knew she would never eat McDonald’s again. But she could sure go for some Taco Bell right about now. Her stomach grumbled with hunger and she glanced at the clock for the fifteenth time in a half hour. Still three hours left. Frowning with frustration, Lateisha snatched the bag from the stainless steel counter and brought it to the pickup window. She smiled when the woman handed her the money and passed her the bag; it wasn’t the customer’s fault she wasn’t happy with her job.

For the next hour, Lateisha worked hard, wishing for a moment to relax and regretting taking someone else’s shift at the last minute. That meant four hours of extra work. Stifling a yawn, Lateisha spoke into the head set.

“Can I help you?” She asked for the two hundredth time that day.

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