A surrogate for him

The diner's bell jingled as another customer left, the sound grating against Evelyn Carter's frayed nerves. She wiped her hands on her apron, the scent of grease and coffee clinging to her skin like a second layer. Her feet ached from the ten-hour shift, but she couldn't afford to slow down. Not when the hospital had called again this morning.

"Miss Carter, your mother's last payment is overdue."

She swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the counter. The number on the bill- $48,672 -might as well have been a million.

"Evelyn!" Her manager, Rick, barked from the kitchen. "Table six needs refills!"

She grabbed the coffee pot, forcing a smile as she approached the booth where a couple sat, laughing over shared fries. Their ease, their comfort, twisted something inside her.

Must be nice.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out under the pretense of checking an order, but it was just another notification from the bank.

ACCOUNT OVERDRAFT: -$1,200

Her stomach clenched.

By the time her shift ended, the sky had darkened into a deep, unforgiving blue. Evelyn shrugged on her thin jacket-the zipper had broken weeks ago-and stepped into the cold. The bus stop was empty, the streetlights flickering like dying stars.

She pulled out her phone again, scrolling mindlessly through her emails. Bills. Collection notices. A reminder for her mother's grave plot maintenance.

Then, a message from Mia, her best friend since college:

> "Ev, I know you hate this idea, but just LOOK. It's legit. You'd be perfect."

Below it was a link.

Evelyn clicked.

"Generous Compensation for Qualified Surrogates – Confidential Process – Elite Clients."

Her breath hitched.

She had seen ads like this before. Had even considered it once, back when her mother was first diagnosed. But the idea of carrying a child for someone else-of handing it over after nine months-had been too much.

Now?

Now, she had nothing left to lose.

Her apartment was small, the heater rattling weakly against the winter chill. She dropped her bag by the door and immediately checked the voicemail from the hospital.

"Miss Carter, this is your final notice. If payment isn't received within thirty days, we will have to-"

She deleted it before the sentence finished.

Sinking onto her couch, she reopened Mia's link. The agency's website was sleek, professional. No photos of smiling families, just stark black text against a white background.

"Blackwood Surrogacy Solutions. Discretion Guaranteed."

She hesitated, then clicked "Apply Now."

The form asked for medical history, education, even a full-body photo. Evelyn's fingers hovered over the keyboard.

This is insane.

But then she looked around her apartment-the peeling wallpaper, the stack of unpaid bills, the framed photo of her mother on the mantel.

She filled out the form.

She didn't expect a response so soon.

But the next morning, as she was pouring coffee for a table of businessmen, her phone rang. Unknown number.

She ducked into the diner's cramped hallway.

"Evelyn Carter?" A woman's voice, crisp and professional.

"Yes?"

"This is Claire Mercer from Blackwood Surrogacy Solutions. We've reviewed your application and would like to schedule an interview."

Evelyn's pulse spiked. "An interview?"

"Yes. Our client is very selective, but your profile matches his requirements."

His. So it was a single man. A wealthy one, if he was going through an agency like this.

"When?" she asked.

"Tomorrow. Ten a.m." Claire gave an address in the financial district-a high-rise with a security desk and marble floors.

Evelyn's mouth went dry. "I-I'll be there."

She called Mia that night.

"You're actually doing it?" Mia's voice was equal parts shocked and excited.

"I don't have a choice," Evelyn admitted, sitting on the edge of her bed. "The medical bills, the rent... I'm drowning."

Mia sighed. "I get it. But Ev... this isn't just some job. You'd be carrying a baby."

Evelyn closed her eyes. "I know."

"Are you sure you can handle that? Giving it up after?"

The question hung in the air.

"I don't know," Evelyn whispered. "But I know I can't handle another eviction notice."

The next morning, she dressed carefully-a simple navy blouse, black slacks, the only pair of heels she owned. She looked in the mirror, smoothing her hair.

You can do this. It's just an interview.

But it wasn't. It was the first step toward selling her body, in a way she never imagined.

The Blackwood building loomed over the city, all steel and glass. The lobby was silent except for the click of her heels on the marble floor.

A receptionist eyed her. "Name?"

"Evelyn Carter. I have a ten o'clock with Claire Mercer."

The woman typed something, then nodded. "Elevator to the 42nd floor."

Claire Mercer was in her forties, polished, with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She led Evelyn into a conference room where a file-her file -lay on the table.

"Mr. Blackwood has reviewed your information," Claire said. "He's very interested."

Evelyn's stomach flipped. "Mr. Blackwood?"

"The client." Claire's lips pursed. "He prefers to handle the final interview himself."

Before Evelyn could process that, the door opened.

And he walked in.

Liam Blackwood.

Tall. Impeccably dressed. Eyes like frozen steel.

He didn't smile. Didn't offer a handshake. Just sat across from her and opened her file.

"Evelyn Carter," he said, voice low and measured. "Age twenty-seven. No genetic disorders. No history of mental illness."

She stiffened. "You make me sound like a lab specimen."

His gaze flicked up. Cold. Assessing. "In a way, you are. This is a biological transaction."

Her face burned. "I'm a person."

"Of course." He leaned back. "But let's be clear-this isn't a family bonding experience. It's a contract."

Claire shifted uncomfortably.

Evelyn forced herself to breathe. "What are the terms?"

Liam slid a paper toward her.

"Five hundred thousand dollars. Full medical coverage. Residency at my estate for the duration."

Her heart stopped.

Half a million dollars.

Enough to erase every debt. To start over.

But at what cost?

She met his eyes. "And after the baby is born?"

His expression didn't change. "You walk away."

Silence stretched between them.

Evelyn looked down at the contract.

Then, slowly, she reached for the pen.