Million Dollar Baby

I was never known to be the overly emotional type. I did really well in school. Numbers were my speciality. So as I sat in the overly large waiting room, I ran them in my head.

A woman is pregnant for nine months. Let's say that that doesn't involve February. That would be 275 days. A million divided by 275, that's a little over 3,600 a day. Divide that by 24 hours and we have a total of $150 an hour.

It was hard not to imagine what I could do with that money. I could buy a better place, maybe take in my sister as well. I could go back to school and actually get myself an education. I would be set until I can actually start making my own money. 

The ad had been sketchy, to say the least. It offered a position in a company that would pay over a hundred dollars per hour. The only requirement they had listed was that the woman needed to be fertile. Safe to say, a lot of crazies answered the call. But that was a couple of weeks ago already. I had survived three rounds of eliminations. Each gave me more and more information.

Robert King. CEO of King Incorporated. A company with many branches, including a tech department coming up with new and more sustainable laptop and phone batteries, a real estate department and they have their own private law firm, that deals with business-related lawsuits both for the owner's company and with others.

I personally really did not care about Robert King. I saw his face pop up in news articles every once in a while and overheard people talking about him. But to me, a million dollars is far more important than something as juvenile as 'love'.

"Ms Dalia Adler?"

It was showtime.

My heels clicked on the floor as I followed the woman through the hallway. King Inc. owned one of the biggest skyscrapers in town. Wherever you went in the city, you could always see the gigantic building watching you.

The hallway was long, with the wall to our left being made entirely of windows that looked out over the city. On the other side, the wall was covered with a few paintings, of several angry looking old white men. I was definitely in the right place.

The woman was tall, with long blonde hair which she had pinned up in a tight bun. She was pretty, I thought to myself with a pang of fear in my stomach. Would they select people on appearance? I looked like a gremlin next to the tall blonde. 

The office I was brought to was a lot more hidden away than the other ones. It was at the very end of the hallway and looked like the place where they discreetly fired people. They had one large, round table that filled up the entire room. I sat down on one side, whereas the woman sat down next to three other men.

Two of them fit in with the scene. They were older, white and looked like they were ready to throw me back out onto the streets. The other one was far younger, maybe just over twenty. He had blonde curly hair that tried to cover up his amazingly blue eyes. He was the only one who greeted me with a smile.

"She has signed the agreement?" One of them asked the woman, who quickly nodded. I knew they were talking about the confidentiality agreement. We had all been forced to sign it on the second callback, once we realized how incredibly illegal this all is. 

"Well, Ms Adler." One of the older men said. "We will be asking you some questions today. All you need to do is answer with the truth and we will assess your future role in this process." The second older man moved over to a machine that was standing on top of the table, with a laptop next to it.

This was a lie detector test. 

I tend to plan ahead for things. I do it on my way to the big event or from the moment the idea starts to form in my head. Obviously, I had started thinking about how I would react to their questions. I wasn't a big liar, but a few lies to get what I want never hurt anybody. 

And now that all went out of the window. 

I needed a new strategy. Previously I had just wanted to play into the obvious of what they were searching for. A girl dumb enough so she wouldn't realize how much money she could make out of this deal. I knew the girls in the waiting room were all hoping that he would fall for them so they would be set for life, but that wasn't my plan. That would mean that I was stuck with him. I wanted his money, not him. I wanted to blackmail him. 

As they secured a strap around my chest, as well as clapped something around my finger, I thought of a new strategy. Total and complete honesty. Don't let them catch you in a lie. Maybe some psychopaths can fool a lie detector test, but I had done no research on it. I had no idea how to. 

"Your full name please." One of the men asked the questions, while the other one kept a close eye on the test. The younger man kept scribbling down new questions and handing them over. While the woman typed things into her laptop.

I took a steady breath and answered. "Dalia Elle Adler." 

"And your age?" He asked. This was useless. They had a copy of my passport, they knew all of this already. 

"Twenty." I answered. It's not like I did not look my age. Though my mom wasn't really able to put a lot of food on the table for us, I did manage to grow some curves. I glanced over at the pretty woman with envy, I wasn't as pretty as her though.

"Current occupation?" He asked. 

"Unemployed." I answered. Best not to answer with fired after only a week of working. That was humiliating enough as it is. 

"Last job?" He glanced up from the paper, I just now noticed how one of his eyes had a different colour than the other one.

"Retail." I answered. I don't know if they appreciated my short answers or if I was being rude by not speaking with two words. The woman and the two older men had their faces set in stone, while the younger man had his so close to the paper I could hardly see anything. 

"Any relatives here in the city?" He asked.

"My mom lives here somewhere. But I am not in active contact with her." I answered truthfully. "My brother and my sister live about an hour away." The young boy passed the man a piece of paper. 

"What are your intentions with Mr King?" He read out. My intentions? Well, a hundred percent truth would be to drain him of all his money. But I wasn't going to admit that to these people.

"I don't really have any intentions for him." I answered. "From what I heard all I have to do is my part of the deal." The two men glanced towards each other. I couldn't tell if it was because I said something good or bad. The boy smiled however. So maybe I did something right. 

They asked me more about my life. they asked about my childhood, my grades, my future goals and past achievements. I kept it one hundred percent truthful with them, and not once did they catch me in a lie. 

After about thirty minutes the questions stopped. Instead, they just stared at the woman, who was typing something out into her laptop. It was quiet for a few moments before she gave her verdict.

"He wants to see her."