Page 61 of Geordie

“Did she give you a reason?”

“The couple she wants to help,” I say. “The woman has been trying to have a child for years. She's now in her forties and has decided to have her eggs fertilized and have Connie bring the baby to term. I couldn't argue with that.”

“There has to be someone who's willing to be your surrogate,” Lochlan says, ringing his hands. “If we offer more money?”

I shake my head. “Women who choose to be surrogates are like Connie. They want to be a part of helping a family realize their dream of having a child. If I introduce an enormous amount of money into the mix, I'll leave myself open to unethical women to abuse me. I want someone who is a match and genuinely wants to help. My option is to keep trying to find a woman who will give up over nine months of her life to help me bring a child into this world.”

“Can any childbearing woman be a surrogate?” Kenzie asks.

Lochlan gives her a side glance. “Are you volunteering, lass?”

She taps him on the thigh. “Not me, silly. I know a bunch of fit, childbearing women.”

“How many of your friends are going to stop volleyball to help Geordie out?”

“A lot. Well, not the baby-carrying part. A lot of them would help in the baby making.”

I cough out a laugh, almost spewing out my whiskey. “Kenzie, you're practically my sister-in-law. We're not supposed to discuss these things.”

She shrugs. “I'm only saying the truth. I can put the word out. You never know, you might find someone who's leaving the circuit or they might know somebody who's willing to help. You won't find out unless you ask, and I'm not afraid to ask.”

“Cousin,” Lochlan says, “I suggest you make a list of all your ex-girlfriends to see if any of them would help you out.”

“I can see how that will go over.” I start to fake a phone conversation. “Hello, Kristina, I haven't seen you in years, and, by the way, do you want to have a child with me?”

“Be serious, man. If you're going to start with any female, call Lily.”

A quick adrenalin shock riffs through me from the mention of Lily. I drop the posing and fall back silent.

“After you told me about her,” Lochlan says. “I did a search. She's beautiful, and the woman likes to be in the kitchen. She seems to be the perfect candidate for you.”

Kenzie's elbow hits his side, and he yelps at the rebuke. He gives her a fish-eyed glance, inching away.

His attention comes back to me. “Look, Geordie. I've known you all your life. I know when you're smitten with a woman. Give her a call.”

Chapter twenty-nine

Pink Tea Party

Lily

Icracktheeggopen one-handed, with a little bit of flair. The translucent albumen, now an opaque white, stretches out to the edge of the hot aluminum pan, and the lone myopic yellow yoke is intact at its center. The egg is the only thing I can stomach since I returned to my apartment.

To say we've been busy the last few weeks at Dalliance would be an understatement. The work that's required by the Catriona committee is endless. I suspect the paperwork and requirements are to eliminate the less hardy applicants. If it wasn't for my partner Harv, who's taking on the mission to secure us a place at Catriona's high-end restaurant row, I would have given up long ago.

I scoop the egg up whole, balanced on my spatula, laying it gently on a gleaming white plate. There's an urge to slice a tomato, more for color, but instead I reach for the salt and sprinkle a bit over the surface of the glistening egg. The table doesn't need to be set. The only thing left for me to do is to grab a fork, snap a paper towel section from the rack, and slide onto the seat at my kitchen table. With my phone open, I scroll through the news, clicking on stories about politicians, war, commentary, general bad behavior with the occasional celebrity gossip.

It takes me only a few bites of egg to finish my breakfast. Usually, I don't feel hungry in the morning. A cup of tea or coffee is enough to satisfy me, but today I'm craving protein. A single egg will fuel me until lunch.

I'm on my second news story when my phone's ringtone beats like a manic drum. I left the ringer on expecting Harv to call for our meeting. Whose number is this? I'm feeling reckless today, so I answer.

“Hello?”

“Lily, this is Geordie.”

A familiar dread wiggles through my body that he's had another catastrophe. “Good to hear from you. Did you get a new phone? I didn't recognize this number. How are you?”

The squeak of his chair comes through the line. “I'm on the office phone in the barrel room. I'm fine. I'm not using my crutch anymore and soon I'll be driving. Listen, I called you for a couple of reasons. First, we're running discounts for our restaurant clients. Some of our wines you're featuring at Dalliance are on our sales list. We're trying to sell the rest of those lots before we introduce the next year's vintage. And the second reason is that I want to discuss a proposal that might interest you. Can you meet me at my apartment? I'll have lunch delivered and you can sample the new releases. What do you say?”

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