Page 8 of The Billionaire’s Paradise (My Billionaire #4)

Mrs. Mulroney raised a hand. “Do you do foot baths? I have some calluses that need dealing with.”

“We do not,” Tessa replied pleasantly.

“What about psychic readings?”

“Nope. Just reproductive science.”

“Does the tea come with whiskey?”

Tessa cleared her throat, then simply turned to me and smiled. “So. Ready for your consult?”

I took a deep breath, took Cal’s hand, and nodded. “Yep. Let’s do this.”

Cal stood beside me and squeezed my hand back as we followed Tessa through the door and into whatever came next.

Tessa led us down a quiet hallway lined with abstract paintings of flowers that all vaguely resembled uteruses. Her heels clicked authoritatively on the floor, and I felt like I was being marched to my midterm results.

The consultation room was small and private, with a round table, three comfortable chairs, and a box of tissues placed exactly where everyone in the room could reach them.

There was a glass carafe of cucumber water on a tray, two glasses, and a subtle lavender diffuser doing its best to calm me down. It failed.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Tessa said, tapping her iPad awake. “This won’t be a formal interview, just a conversation to get to know you both and talk through the process.”

Cal and I sat down across from her, our knees touching under the table.

Mine were bouncing. His were steady. Why were his steady?

He was supposed to be as anxious as me. Then again, I knew Cal had trained himself to exude calm professionalism when he needed to.

Yes, he fell apart in front of me every once in a while, but when he needed to put on his facade, he did it with frightening ease.

I guess that’s how you become a billionaire…

which is probably why I still earned eight dollars an hour delivering flowers for Mrs. Mulroney, plus tips.

“First of all,” Tessa said, looking between us. “Congratulations on taking this step. It’s a big one. A hopeful one. And I know it can feel overwhelming.”

“Oh, good,” I said. “So the heart palpitations are normal?”

She smiled, professional and warm. “Completely.”

Cal leaned forward. “We’ve read the materials, and we know it’s a long process. But we’re ready. We think.”

I turned to him. “You think?”

“I know ,” he corrected quickly, squeezing my hand under the table.

Tessa nodded approvingly. “Then let’s start at the beginning.

I have the intake forms you filled out online before the meeting”—she tapped her screen—“and I can see you’ve already noted your preference for a gestational surrogate, and that you’re planning to use an egg donor rather than someone you know. ”

“We figured it would be less complicated,” I said. “Emotionally, genetically, logistically, astrologically. Not to mention the fact that Mrs. Mulroney once told me her eggs were drier than the dust under her fridge.”

It was a joke. A nervous one. But all Tessa said was—

“Oh! Well then. We’ll guide you through the options once you’ve chosen a donor profile. Now, before we get into timelines, I want to ask a few personal questions. Nothing invasive—just things to help me understand your dynamic as a couple and what kind of surrogate might be a good match.”

“Okay,” I said. “Well, if you need to know, I can tell you Cal and I are incredibly well -matched. Like a lock and key. Except the key’s a bit neurotic and the lock is… very patient.”

Tessa chuckled. “That’s actually helpful. Humor is good. It keeps couples grounded.”

“Great,” I said. “Then I’m basically a sandbag tethering us to the earth.”

Cal kissed my temple. “You’re my gravity, babe.”

I groaned. “Don’t say things like that in front of professionals.”

“I’ve heard worse,” Tessa said. “Much worse. You’d be amazed what people blurt out in these meetings.”

I let out a pent-up sigh. “Oh God, that’s a relief. So, we’re not the weirdest couple you’ve ever met?”

“Not even close. Last week I had a couple bring a PowerPoint presentation about their childhood traumas. One of them included clip art.”

Cal let out a soft laugh. “You didn’t tell me we could bring slides.”

Tessa laughed back. “Perhaps next time.”

“Don’t encourage him,” I said. “I’m very serious about getting this right. I already tried to manifest a calm, happy future by holding a crystal I found in a parking lot. It might’ve been gravel.”

Tessa stifled her laugh this time. “Well, it’s clear you’re committed. Which means we’re in the perfect place to begin. So… tell me a little about why now felt like the right time to start this journey.”

Cal looked at me. I looked at him. Then I said the only thing I could.

“Because… we live in a world where it doesn’t have to be a pipe dream anymore.”

Cal squeezed my hand and nodded. “We’ve built this life together,” he said. “And now we want to share it. Not just with each other, but with someone we can raise with love, patience… and enough emotional intelligence not to ‘reply -all’ to an email.”

Tessa’s expression softened. “That’s beautiful. Most couples come in here when life finally feels whole but there’s that something missing. Something—or someone —who will make everything perfect.”

I blinked a few times. “Okay, now you’re going to make me cry, and if I start, there may not be enough tissues in that box to stem the tide.”

Cal wrapped his arm around my shoulder and assured Tessa—“We’re in this for the long haul. Whatever it takes.”

Tessa nodded again, her voice calm and clear. “Then let’s get started. Here’s how this usually works.”

I immediately sat up straighter. My brain kicked into frantic-note-taking mode, except I didn’t have a pen. Or paper. Or an actual ability to retain important information without panicking.

“Surrogacy is a multi-stage process,” Tessa said. “And while it can feel overwhelming at first, we’ll guide you through every step.”

I nodded. Vigorously. Possibly too vigorously.

She held up her fingers, ticking off each point. “First, you’ll officially apply. That part’s already halfway done”—she gestured at the clipboard in my jittering hands—“so gold star to you.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I’ll take all the gold stars I can get.”

“Second, you’ll select an egg donor. We’ll show you a secure database—photos, background, medical history, personality traits, even voice recordings in some cases.”

“That’s reassuringly thorough,” Cal said.

“I guess it’s like dating,” I said. “But you’re choosing the genetic material for your child instead of someone to meet for cocktails. And you don’t get ghosted.”

Tessa smiled patiently. “Once you’ve selected your donor, we’ll coordinate the egg retrieval. The eggs are then fertilized using your sperm—”

“His sperm,” I cut in quickly, pointing at Cal.

Tessa blinked. “Just his?”

I faltered. “Well, I mean, maybe mine. We haven’t decided. Can you mix them together? Like a smoothie?”

Cal tried not to laugh. “We’ll have a conversation about it.”

Tessa nodded like she’d heard this exact scenario seventeen times this week. “Yes, you can fertilize half the eggs with one partner’s sperm and half with the other’s. That way, you may end up with viable embryos from both of you and decide from there.”

“Right. Science smoothie. Got it,” I mumbled.

“After fertilization, we monitor the embryos and perform preimplantation genetic testing, if you’d like. That helps screen for any genetic abnormalities, and can also reveal sex, though you’re not obligated to find out.”

Cal leaned in. “What do most couples do?”

“Some want to know. Some don’t,” Tessa said. “That’s a personal choice—and one we can revisit later. Once the embryos are ready, we begin the matching process.”

“That’s where we meet the surrogate?” I asked.

“Exactly. Based on your values, lifestyle, and expectations, we’ll introduce you to potential gestational carriers. You’ll meet with candidates, virtually at first, and then in person if it feels like a fit. It’s important that all parties feel aligned—this is a shared journey.”

I swallowed. “What if we… what if we don’t click with anyone?”

“You will,” she said gently. “And if it takes a little longer, that’s okay. The match is everything. You’ll want someone who shares your communication style, values, and comfort level with involvement.”

Cal nodded. “We’d want someone who’s open to contact. Updates, maybe… shared milestones. ”

“That’s very common,” she said. “Some intended parents remain close with their surrogate for years afterward.”

“Do any clients and surrogates get matching tattoos?” I asked. It was another attempt at failed humor.

Both of them looked at me.

“Not that we’re planning that,” I added quickly. “Just wondering how close people get.”

Tessa smiled again. “Maybe friendship bracelets will do. I’ve seen matching necklaces. One couple even gave their surrogate a trip to Greece.”

“Well,” I said. “That’s the bar, I guess.”

Cal rubbed my back in a small, steady circle, the way he always did when I was trying to sound chill and failing. “We just want someone who feels like part of the team.”

“You’ll find her,” Tessa said. “After that, we begin the medical and legal phases. The surrogate undergoes screening and preparation, and you’ll work with a legal team to draft a contract outlining everything—from financial arrangements to delivery plans to what hospital you prefer.

Everyone involved will have legal representation. ”

I took a deep breath. “It’s a little more complicated than picking up at a New Year’s Eve party and waking up pregnant, isn’t it?”

Cal took my hand under the table again, steady and strong.

“After you’ve chosen your surrogate and all the paperwork is finalized, it’s time for the embryo transfer,” Tessa continued.

“We’ll implant one embryo at a time. And then…

we wait. It may not work the first time.

That’s normal. But once there’s a confirmed pregnancy, we monitor everything closely, and you’ll be involved every step of the way. ”

“How long,” I asked quietly. “From now… till that moment?”

Tessa tilted her head. “If everything moves smoothly, you could be matched and medically cleared in four to six months. Embryo transfer shortly after. Pregnancy… maybe within the year.”

A year.

The room felt very quiet.

Cal squeezed my hand again. “We’re ready,” he said. “Truly.”

I nodded slowly. “We’re scared. But we’re ready.”

Tessa smiled. “Then you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”