Chapter Three

Logan

Happy birthday, Logan. You know I still love you.

I read the text message two more times before deleting it. I've blocked two numbers from her already, but she just keeps texting me with new phone numbers.

"What's my schedule for today like?" I ask Stella, my secretary, as she walks into my office. I don't look up from what I'm currently doing, but I know it's her from the clacking sound of her high heels.

"You have a meeting with the management by 10 a.m., an appointment with the Lawson's by 12 p.m., and another appointment with Mr. Sawyer by 3 p.m.," she says, and I nod.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, sir," she replies, then adds a "Happy birthday, sir," before walking out.

It doesn't even feel like my birthday. Maybe it's maturity or old age, but there's nothing exciting about birthdays. It's just another random day. Also, there's nothing thrilling about getting older. I go over some documents that need to be signed and take note of necessary alterations that need to be made on. I'm suddenly distracted by the ringing of the office telephone. I pick it up and place it on my ear.

"Your mother is here to see you, sir," my receptionist says, and I swallow a groan. I already know why she's here, and I dread the discussion.

"Let her in," I say instead.

Soon, my mother is led in by the receptionist.

"Hello, Mum. "What brings you here?" I ask as I take note of her face. She's clearly upset about something.

"That's how you greet your mother after you refuse to visit her for a whole month?" She shrieks, and I smile.

"Good morning, mother. "How are you doing?" I ask, and she ignores me.

"I heard you haven't gone home in three days," she says in a scolding tone, and I sigh.

"I've been busy..."

"With what?"

"Work," I say, and stand from my seat.

"I just don't understand you." I really don't. "Is this how you want to live for the rest of your life?" She asks as I walk over to her and sit on the table, facing her.

"We've had this conversation several times, Mum. "You know how important this is for me," I say in a soft voice. It doesn't work on her because she's still scowling at me.

"More important than your own mother?" more important than family?" Her voice rises by the second, and I run my hands across my face.

"And besides," she continues, "you're the boss." Why can't you just take some days off? "You don't have to work every day," she says, and I smile.

"I need to work every day. "I run this place, so I need to be around to oversee things."

It's her turn to get up from her seat. She begins to pace around my office, her pumps making small sounds as they connect with the tile floor.

"You never even listen to me!" That's the problem. "You don't take me seriously."

I get up from my seat, walk up to her, and hold her by her shoulders, turning her to face me.

"I'm fine. Stop worrying. I have a room here in case I want to sleep over. I have everything I need. "And if there's anything else I need, I can have Stella get it for me." I bend to kiss her forehead and smile at her small frame.

"And what do you eat?" "Don't tell me you've been eating junk food all this time," she says, and I laugh.

"There are several good restaurants around here that serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner meals. "I also eat at Josh's place," I say, then remember her.

I really tried not to, especially after our last encounter, which was two days ago. I don't know how she did it, but she's always in my mind, occupying my damn thoughts.

"Today is your birthday." "Aren't you doing anything to celebrate?" She asks, and I just shake my head. I might just go out to have a few drinks with my friends later.

"You turn thirty today," she says with a smile and a wistful look in her eyes. I know what she's thinking about, and it hurts me to see that she still hasn't gotten over him.

"Your father would have been proud," she says, and I smile.

"Yeah, he would," I say in agreement. She sniffs and clears her throat, then goes back to scolding me.

"When are you getting settled down?"

I sigh deeply at the question. The last time I told my mother that I never wanted to get married, she called all her four sisters to tell them that I didn't want to make her a grandmother. I received calls from them asking me to explain, and each one was worse than the last. So on my twenty-eighth birthday, I told her that I would be ready for marriage by the time I turned thirty. It's funny how time flies.

"Mom..."

"You promised, Logan. "I'm not getting any younger, and you aren't getting younger either!"

She's right. I did promise, and if there's anything I hate, it's people who don't keep their word. I'm not about to become that person.

"All right, mom," I say."I'll give you a grandchild."

"And how are you going to do that if you don't even have a girlfriend?"

I chuckle. What my mother doesn't know is that I was very serious when I said I didn't want to get married. Her question was valid, but I was certain I was going to find a way.

***

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Colton says as he takes a tequila shot.

"I don't know, man." I just don't want to disappoint her. "And I'm tired of her bugging me about it," I say, taking a sip of my vodka.

We're currently in a private booth in Colton's club: me, Colton, and Alex, who is also my business partner. Disco lights, pole dancers, and the smell of weed and cocaine filled the air. Some women flank us, coming to greet Colton and shooting seductive glances at me. I'd told Colton that I wasn't interested in taking any woman home. He thought it was because we were having what he called a very serious conversation. I also want to believe that it's because of that, but I can't lie to myself. I haven't been able to think of another woman since I met her.

"Do you even want to have kids?" "Isn't it bad if you just have kids for the sake of them taking over your company?" Alex asks from beside me.

"I don't mind having a child," I say after a thought, and I'm being honest. Being a father wouldn't be bad. I even think I would make a good father. And my child will have everything they want; I'll make sure of that.

"But I don't want to get married." "I've never imagined myself being a husband to someone."

I believed that marriage was a lifelong commitment between people who were in love. I don't want to ever be in a romantic relationship with anyone. I don't even think I'm capable of being in love.

"Have you ever thought of surrogacy?" Alex asks. I've never thought about it until now.

Bella.

I don't know why, but my mind instantly goes to her. If I was going to get a surrogate to carry my child, it had to be someone I could stand. Someone I could possibly have a healthy co-parenting relationship with I sigh as I run a hand through my hair. I don't even know why I'm considering this. It's still a long, gut-wrenching process, and I don't even know if she'll agree.

I was being honest when I told her she intrigued me. I've never met someone like her. I've never wanted to know more about someone's life the way I do for her, and it unnerves me. She has a lot of burden on her shoulders; I could tell just by looking at her. There's also something else that's making her scared and always on guard. And that was confirmed when she practically ran away from me when I asked her that question. The guilt had been eating me up, and I tried to make it up to her the other night when I saw her walking home alone. But as usual, I managed to fuck up again. Since that night, I've been sending Derek, my driver, to pick her up and take her home. At least I know she's not walking home alone at night.

"Where'd you go?" Colton asks as he studies me. "I've been asking you if you want another drink."

"My bad. "I don't want another drink," I say.

"Were you thinking about the surrogate thing I said?" Alex asks, and I hum.

"My sister runs a surrogacy agency. She's really good at what she does. If you're really interested, she can help you find a suitable surrogate mother and also go through all the legal processes with lawyers and stuff.

I can't believe I'm even thinking about this. not about contacting Alex's sister, but about asking her to be the surrogate mother to my child.

"I think I already have someone in mind..." I confess, and the two pairs of eyes shoot at me.

"Who?"

"Her name is Bella."

***

That evening, I'm sitting at the back of the car as Derek drives to Josh's Place. He comes down and stands by the car, waiting for her to come out. I spot her the moment the back door opens. She's dressed in blue jeans and the restaurant t-shirt. Her hair is tied back into a bun and is covered by a baseball cap. I look at her willowy figure as she slowly approaches the car, oblivious to the fact that I'm seated inside.

"Hi, Derek!" I hear her greet him with a smile on her face, and a stinging feeling shoots through me. I can't believe I'm jealous of my fucking driver. I watch as Derek smiles and replies to her greeting before his face quickly goes back to its normal, impassive state. He probably remembered that I can see him.

She opens the back door and slides into the seat before her eyes come to rest on my figure. She mutters something and immediately moves to leave, but I reach across her and shut the door.

"This is the second time you're keeping me against my will," she says in a whisper, and I try not to focus on the feeling of her warm breath against my skin. Maybe this is a bad idea.

Maybe I don't care that this is definitely a bad idea.

"That's because I have something important to discuss with you," I say, and she halts.

Maybe it's the way I said it. Maybe it's the tone of my voice, the look on my face, which she keeps looking at, or the fact that I came with my driver to pick her up for the first time, but she calms down and leans into the seat. I'm aware of her deep breathing. I'm aware of how hard she's trying to stay calm. I'm aware that she keeps picking at her fingers and that her hands are shaking.

Without thinking, I cover her hands with mine. She has small, soft hands that would definitely feel good on my...

I shake my head to get rid of my intrusive thoughts. She's looking at me with a confused expression on her face now, and I just...fuck it!

"I want you to carry my child."

She looks at me like I have two heads.

"What?"

I squeeze her hand. I'd forgotten I was still holding onto her. "I want you to be the mother of my child," I say.

She snatches her hand from mine, and I immediately feel cold from the loss of contact.

"No!"