Accidental Surrogate

Ella

“Wait, what!” I exclaim, not believing my own ears. “You got your job back?”

“It sounds like somebody very important called in some favors for me.” My sister confirms. “They even gave me a raise to compensate for my troubles.”

She doesn’t need to say more. There’s only one person with enough power to undo a command issued by Dominic Sinclair – and that’s Dominic Sinclair himself. “I can’t believe this. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“You mean you didn’t ask?” I can imagine the precise look on Cora’s face. Stunned and reeling at once.

“I mean, not after that first time.” I relate, wondering if I should have tried harder to help her. Did I misperceive my importance to Sinclair, or the power I hold now that I’m carrying his child?

“Well apparently that’s all it took.” She relates, her voice full of elation. “Thank you, Ella.”

“Don’t thank me,” I object. “I’m the one who got us into this situation to begin with.” I remind her ruefully.

“Of course you didn’t.” She refutes. “Listen, I don’t know how it happened, but either I made a mistake or…”

“Or what?” I press.

“Or someone did this on purpose.” She sounds uncertain now, as if she can’t fathom the motive for such an act. I find myself equally confused.

“Why would they?” I fret, not wanting to believe my sister messed up so badly, but not seeing any logic in the alternative.

“I don’t know.” She confesses. “But that’s not important now. It’s all going to be okay from here on out. You get your baby, I get my career… the only thing we need now is to find a way to get revenge on Mike.”

share. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to

a note of teasing in her voice – the same one children use on the playground to tease each other

entrance, lowering my voice to a whisper. “If I start to seem like too much trouble he might change his mind about letting me have visitation rights

as if you were an open book before,

the wrong thing and make myself seem weak or fragile, too annoying to put up with. It’s exhausting.” I drag my hand through my hair. “I end up over-analyzing everything I do with him. I shouldn’t have cried, I was too sassy, too timid, too bold. It’s like walking an emotional tightrope. And the worst part is that he can read me so damned well that even when I try to

sorry sweetie.”

I just need a little more time to get my bearings. Once I figure Sinclair out I’ll understand what I need to do to keep my head above

on the

I prompt my sister, knowing she wants to say

that way.” Cora admits. “It’s like you’re still in survival mode –

this is a survival situation.” I counter cynically, “if I don’t perform well I lose my baby. The best I can hope for if I do perfectly is visitation rights after Sinclair finds his mate, and even that could mean anything from every weekend to once a

and lets the matter drop. “How are you

morning in the bathroom… but I’ve never been happier to

never been happier for you to feel miserable

its presence known, the more secure

Sinclair brought me to meet his father.” I confess. “It was great to talk though,

________________

but the sweet man in the wheelchair was far from the imposing figure I expected. He radiated quiet strength and dignity, but he also welcomed me to his family with genuine warmth. I could see the shadow of a powerful leader in his stoic demeanor, but also the humility of a man whose circumstances had irrevocably changed and who chose to adapt rather than rail at the world for its injustice. He was obviously

more at ease when we finally left his home, and I spent the rest of the day napping and reading my pregnancy books. I can’t believe how tired I’ve been, or how hungry. I expected the changes, I just didn’t think they’d happen so fast. Of course after so much rest, I couldn’t sleep when night finally fell. It took me ages to finally drift off, and when I finally found rest –

reliving the orphanage and the foster homes, all full of cruel adults and abusive parents. In my dreams I’m always running away from someone, trying to protect Cora

back to one of the worst days of my life. The sounds of my own screams and pleading tears fill my head, as dreadful images fill my vision. The next thing I know someone is shouting my name, and my eyes snap

is sitting beside me on my bed, his powerful hands gripping my shoulders as he tries to bring me back to reality. It takes me a minute to realize it’s him, rather than