Hunted (FBI Heat Book 1) by Marissa Garner

her employer’s fees by “tens of thousands of dollars”? Was it just a come-on or a bait and switch?
    When she’d shown her boss the flyer yesterday afternoon, Laura had shrugged off the claim as impossible. After paying all the direct expenses related to a surrogacy and the necessary overhead costs, SDSA’s profit was only a few hundred dollars. Laura revealed that the doctors were paid a minimal salary for their services, of course, but all profits were channeled back into the clinic.
    Absently, Amber twisted strands of her ponytail around her finger. Something just didn’t smell right about Dream Makers’ claims. She resented the idea that the new clinic could be competing unfairly. Unfair was a pet peeve. But more importantly, she worried they could be putting surrogate mothers and unborn babies at risk by cutting medical corners. That possibility went way beyond a pet peeve. Meaning totally unacceptable. She had to do something for ethical reasons even if it didn’t save her job.
    “Hello. Dream Makers. We make your dreams of a baby come true,” a pleasant woman’s voice answered Amber’s call.
    “Hi. I received a flyer about your surrogate mother services, and I’d like more information,” Amber said.
    “Certainly. Let’s set up an appointment.”
    “Uh, could I speak to someone on the phone? This shouldn’t take long.”
    “We offer such
personalized
services that an appointment is absolutely
necessary
. The subject of
your baby
is, after all, a very
personal
subject. Don’t you agree?”
    The lady was good, emphasizing all the key words and adding a dash of guilt.
    “When would be a good time for you?” she continued smoothly.
    Damn, an appointment would be trickier, but she was committed now. “Saturday morning, say ten-ish.”
    “You’re in luck. We have an opening at ten fifteen. Your name?”
    “Uh… Moore. Amber Moore.”
    “Great. We’ll see you and Mr. Moore tomorrow at ten fifteen.”
    Mr. Moore? Huh? Damn.
    All afternoon, Amber worried about the appointment and about how she was going to magically produce a Mr. Moore. The idea of using Ben Alfren came and went. Although she’d told him about her job insecurity, she hadn’t confided details about the reason. And did she know him well enough to expose him to a discussion of eggs, sperm, and uteruses?
Not a chance.
    Of course, there was Adam Wilson, the SDSA ultrasound technician. She and Adam were colleagues, office buds, but nothing more. At least he’d have the same vested interest in protecting SDSA as she had. And of course, he heard plenty about eggs, sperm, and uteruses every day. Yeah, Adam made a lot more sense.
    At four thirty, she was cleaning up after an embryo transfer when her cell rang. She smiled as she glanced at the screen.
Ben.
He hadn’t wasted any time in using her number, which he’d coaxed out of her last night. Considering she’d been on the verge of sleeping with him, it seemed a small concession. Unfortunately, she hadn’t heard from him later as she’d hoped, which probably just meant he’d gotten home too late to come over on a weeknight. With any luck, he was calling now to make plans for tonight to pick up where they’d left off. She could always hope…
    “Hi, Amber.”
    “Hey, you.”
    He hesitated. “Sorry I didn’t call last night. I didn’t get home until midnight, and your place was dark.”
    “That’s okay. I was asleep by then.” She forced a smile into her voice and crossed her fingers. Her hopes inflated.
    He sighed. “And I’ve got bad news for tonight. I’ll be working… late.”
    Deflate, deflate, deflate.
    “Oh.”
    “I know it sucks.”
    “I guess an FBI agent’s work is never done.”
    “Something like that. This is an ongoing investigation, and these particular operations can only be done at night.”
    “I see.” But seeing and accepting graciously were two entirely different things.
    “I hope so. The good news is that I don’t have to work tomorrow night.