CHAPTERFIVE
Bran
It was dumb to think Anne would consider having my child. In retrospect, it was dangerous too.
Now she knew something about me and would probably find a way to use it against me. I wondered if she’d tell Harper.
Maybe Harper would have an opinion of my plans to be a father and would get in touch with me. After all, she’ll be an aunt.
Or maybe she’d be relieved that I was moving on and would have something else to devote my time and attention too.
As dumb as it was to think Anne might be my surrogate, ten million dollars was a lot to walk away from. If Anne was in as dire of straights as I thought, it was idiocy to turn down that kind of money.
Sure, I was asking for nine months of her life, but then she’d have the rest of her life to live in the lap of luxury if she invested well.
Knowing I couldn’t hold my breath for Anne to decide to take me up on my offer, I looked through the portfolio of possible women to carry my child sent over by the clinic. I sat out on my back terrace enjoying the warm night air and a glass of scotch.
I had the perfect yard for a child. It was large with trees perfect for climbing. I had a pool, that I made a mental note that I’d need to safety-proof.
The first woman in the portfolio had straight blonde hair and hazel eyes. She was twenty-eight, already had two children, and worked in sales and marketing. Her health insurance didn’t cover a surrogate pregnancy, so I’d need to get insurance for her. She was pretty and looked healthy. I studied her picture imagining her features in my child.
But what I saw was Anne and her thick wavy blonde hair.
I flipped to the next page, annoyed that Anne could harass me even when she wasn’t around. This woman had dark hair and brown, almond-shaped eyes. She was in her thirties, had one child, and was a stay-at-home mom.
I wondered about men who were okay with their wives or partners having another man’s child. I wasn’t so sure I’d be okay with that. I studied her, thinking she was a possibility, until Anne’s face, with her round gray eyes, flashed in my mind. Dammit!
I continued through the book reading about several women who were attractive, accomplished, and wanted to help people like me have a child. But each time I tried to imagine my child’s DNA from them, Anne would pop into my mind.
Jesus fuck.
I tossed the portfolio aside, disgusted with myself. Why was Anne haunting me? She was an infuriating, argumentative, annoying woman.
I considered opening my contact list on my phone to find one of my friends with benefits. Getting lost in another woman would be a good way to get Anne out of my mind.
Except when I thought about heating up my sheets, Anne was in my bed. Fuck!
Still, another woman could help exorcize Anne. The only problem was most of my sex buddies had shown signs of wanting more than my dick. I wanted a good fuck, not a wife.
Instead of fucking, I changed into running clothes and got on my treadmill. I cranked the speed up, wanting a hard run to rid my mind of Anne.
My legs throbbed, my lungs burned, but Anne still lingered, her sexy ass swaying as she walked away from me.
Five miles in, I gave up. Dripping with sweat, I got into the shower, turning the water to cold. Maybe I couldn’t get rid of Anne, but I could make my dick retreat.
What the fuck was it about her? Sure, I enjoyed poking at her, sparring with her, but I wasn’t attracted to her. Liar.
The image of her in a backless dress at a charity event came to mind. I’d been mesmerized by her, which pissed me off. I’d lost my mind for a moment and asked her to dance. Luckily, she said no. But then I said some unkind words and she accused me of being cruel, like her father.
I knew I could be an asshole, but I hoped to hell I wasn’t anything like George Francis. The old bastard was the epitome of a greedy businessman who’d sell out his grandmother to make a buck.
I paused on that for a moment. I’d always wondered what Anne had done to get kicked out of the family, but maybe she hadn’t done anything. I didn’t put it past George to disown his kids so he wouldn’t have to share the wealth. I suppose Peter got to stick around because he was a boy and was working in the business.
I shook my head. Why was I still thinking about Anne?
Worse, I was feeling sorry for her.
Giving up, I went to bed, deciding I’d pick a surrogate from the book tomorrow.