The Billionaire CEO (Sample Only)

THIS STORY IS MY CREATION! ANY COPYING OR PLAGIARISM OF MY STORIES WILL NOT BE ACCEPTED IN ANY FORM OR FASHION. I OWN THE COPYWRITING OF THIS STORY!

I am standing outside the tall white brick building that is well-known downtown. Lined up in front of me and behind are women hoping to get the top sixty numbers so that we can go into the building for this interview. Pulling my grandmother’s worn-out shawl tighter against me to help fight off the chilly brisk breeze that continues to blow down the sidewalk, making me shiver. Very polished ladies line the walkway in single file, standing between the white bricks, and a red rope stretched out from one black pole to the next while its metal latches into a slot holding it up, showing the boundary that can not be crossed from the door back. Counting for the dozenth time, I can see where my place is secured around the mid-thirties this morning. I was here yesterday trying to get this interview but fell short of three people. Coming back early this morning, it was already half full as women flowed out of the parking lot, filing into the single line for their chance. My eyes watched as the sun rose over the city, chasing away the shadows that enveloped us this morning around six.

The door to the building is heard clicking to open finally at eight o’clock as a woman steps out, looking frustrated that she has to do this again.

Her tone is flat and disgusted as she speaks,” Ladies in line, you will be given a number from one through sixty. If you fall into that category, we will provide your following instructions.”

Another woman walks down the line, handing out little squares of laminated paper that holds each person’s number. I am handed number thirty-five as a small smile creeps over my face. I made it into the top sixty this time. When the last number is given out, you hear women pleading with others, trying to buy their numbers, while others storm away with strings of cuss words flowing out of their mouths.

The leading lady speaks again, “For those of you who have made the cut if you are number one through ten, go stand at the front desk now.” She opens the door as the first ten ladies flow into the building. “If you are eleven through sixty, find a seat in the lobby. We are taking ten up at a time since Mr. Tucker’s waiting room can not handle all of you ladies at once.”

The rest of us enter the warm building, and I find a quiet corner under a clock mounted on the wall. Sitting down in the plush cloth, I settle into it since I know it will be a few hours before I am called. Looking around at all the women who are now pulling out their laptops, ipads, or phones, tapping on them with their perfectly manicured nails, my eyes scan the area, seeing that the first ten ladies are huddled around the front desk, still waiting to be escorted to the elevator with hopeful eyes. Zeroing in on the enormous front desk with six ladies sitting behind it, my eyes travel the wooden planks that start at the top and then slowly work their way down to the bright white polished floors that are so clean that I can see my reflection in them. The name of Tucker Enterprises is engraved in the middle of the desk with silver paint. Finally, the flat-toned lady clicks her heels against the floor, leading the first ten ladies to the elevator as they talk in chipper voices.

All of these ladies are here for the ad that the CEO himself put in the paper last week. He is looking for a surrogate wife to have his heir in the future. They will be married for a max of two years, allowing the first year for the woman to get pregnant with his child and then the second to have it. After she has conceived the child, the so-called wife will be moved to a penthouse while she finishes her pregnancy. After the baby is born healthy, she will be paid ten million dollars to start her new life.

Danny Tucker owned the most prominent empire and was the definition of rich if not even royalty. Every woman wanted to be his; there was nothing he couldn’t buy. He owned many houses worldwide, and there was a rumor that he was even looking into buying up multiple islands in financial debt.

Seeing how much money this man was willing to pay for a child was the only reason I was sitting downstairs in his lobby, waiting my turn to see if I was worthy enough to be tied to him for two years. My butt has started cramping from sitting in the chair for a long time. I have gotten up to walk around trying to stretch my legs but just sat back down, laying my head against the wall, closing my eyes, listening to the tick, tick, tick of the clock above my head.

When I saw the amount of money that he was offering, I knew it would be enough to pay for the treatments my sister needed and her surgery for a small tumor growing on one of her ovaries. I don’t have any family because my parents were killed five years ago, and we lived with my grandparents. They died two years ago, and now we live in the small mill house they left to us. I hope he might pick me as his bride, but I am not getting my hopes up to have them come crashing down on me when I am rejected.

I must have fallen asleep during the time as the dinging of the doors wakes me up to my right. Cracking an eye, I see the first ten females flowing out of the elevator. Some have mascara running down their faces; others have red or very pissed-off features written all over their faces. Closing my eyes back since I have at least another hour or so before I am allowed upstairs, I hear a lady sitting down somewhere around me sniffing. The following ten numbers are called as they all file into the elevator for their turn at being hopeful brides.

“What did he say to you up there?” one lady sitting across from me asks.

“You only have five minutes with him; he looks at your resume and then will ask you a few questions. He even asked me if I was a virgin. Can you believe that?” she sniffs quietly.

“Who in the world would want a virgin, even if he requires that there is no way that anyone will meet that standard? Every woman here has probably had sex before; I know there is no way I am,” the other lady, who has on a light purple dress, says.

“I don’t know if any of us will be picked. He told everyone up there that he would talk it over later with his brothers and dad; if we were picked, he would call us,” wiping a tear off her face.

“What did you tell him?” she lowers her voice to a whisper, but I can still hear them.

“I would love to carry his child, and I love their brother. I couldn’t wait to marry him, giving him the child he wants,” she burst out crying even harder.

“What about the other women? Did they say that also?” she looks around the room as my eye is barely cracked watching this conversation.

“According to all the women I talked to up there, we all just about said the same thing. We would marry him, love him because he is a celebrity, and how each of us would love to have his child for him. It is hard, you know, he is all over the news, in magazines and in the paper roughly every day. Any of us would be in the spotlight for almost two years, then a ton after the divorce. The press would want to know all the details of if you get to see the child, how big they have gotten, and if Danny tries to rekindle the relationship you once had.” She sighs, pulling her expensive fur coat around her body.

“I am in the next group, so you will get a call when I am done up there with him. Hopefully, I can land him because I will use his money as much as I can before we divorce,” she giggles, throwing her hand to her mouth. Closing my eyes before they catch me, I drift off to sleep before the next set comes back down.

THIS BOOK IS FULLY RELEASED ON GALATEA, SO PLEASE GO TO THAT SITE TO READ THIS BOOK COMPLETELY,

My inspiration for this book came when a very close family member lost their teenage daughter to cancer when she was about to turn 18. She was a wonderful person who fought every day of her life after she was diagnosed at 15. She was cleared at 16, but it came back with a vengeance six months later, taking over her body where treatments were not helping. She decided to live what life she had left; her fight was hard to watch as this wonderful girl slowly slipped away.