Page 17 of Sassy Surrogate
“It’s Heath Bailey. My apologies for calling at this hour. I didn’t realise how late it was when I dialled,” I lie through my teeth.
“I– er, Mr Bailey, hi. I’m sorry, I thought it might be my father calling and – well, never mind. That’s not important. It is rather late, but what can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if I could come see you. I have a matter I’d like to talk to you about,” I say, testing the waters.
“It’s kinda late for that, don’t you think?”
“No, no. You misunderstand. I didn’t mean tonight. Tomorrow is early enough.”
“Oh,” she laughs nervously. “Yes, of course. Um, what did you want to speak to me about?”
“I have a business proposition for you, but I’d rather not discuss it over the phone.”
“Oh. Yes. Sure. I can understand that. Where and when did you have in mind tomorrow?”
“I can come to you in the morning, say around nine thirty?”
“I– yes, okay. Nine thirty works.”
“Great. Well, then I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well, Ms Brand.”
“You too, Mr Bailey. Good night.” The phone goes dead in my ear.
Apparently, a woman of few words. Maybe it’s just that, like a lunatic, I phoned her out of the blue. A man essentially a stranger to her. I wonder how long it’ll take before she starts questioning how I got her number. But that’s a problem for another time. The important thing is I have an appointment to put my future into motion. Let’s just hope she’ll be a willing participant.
* * *
GRAHAM
Holding the receiver of the phone to my ear, I listen to Heath as I search for the email I called him about.
“I’m so sorry, Graham. I meant to call you back after my online meeting with Felicia the other day, but afterward I was in such a bad headspace I decided it best to give it a miss. I should at least have dropped you a message. It just completely slipped my mind.”
“All good. I figured you’d have called me back if you could. Everything okay?”
“Felicia’s been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour. The news was somewhat of a shock, you could say.”
“Ah shit, Heath. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I know she and I have had our differences for a while, but damn it sucks, you know? I feel so helpless knowing there’s not much I can do to change it, so …”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
“Anyway, I didn’t call to whine about how unfair life is, so let’s hear all about this interesting email you received.”
Knowing Heath for years now, I know he’s reached his quota of talking about anything that remotely smacks of ‘touchy-feely’. Who would have thought this unlikely friendship would have come out of the business introduction his father initiated all that time ago? But I do enjoy his humour and he’s proven to be a loyal friend.
While I quickly scan my jam-packed inbox, I ask, “So how’s the formidable Ms Rebecca doing?”
Heath’s belly laugh filters down the line. “She’s doing well, thanks. I still can’t believe you allowed that gem to slip through your fingers. But, as they say, your loss is my gain.”
“Yeah, seems so.” I can’t help but laugh along. “Ah, here it is.”
I quickly scan through the first couple of paragraphs and then find what I’m looking for. Reading it out loud to him, we spend the next half hour discussing the pros and cons of the various investments mentioned in the email. When we’re done working our way through everything, Heath asks for my recommendations and we spend more time discussing those, until finally we come to a consensus on what investments I’m to make on his behalf.
When we’re done, he continues, “I have something else I need to talk to you about – financial advice I need regarding a different kind of proposition I have in mind.”
“I’m intrigued; do tell.”
