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Faith sighed as yet another rejection email pinged into her inbox. She’d been made redundant from her job in marketing three months ago, and finding new work in the same kind of role was next to impossible. She’d spent days diligently updating her CV and sending it out to recruiters, as well as adding all the information that was already in her CV into the additional forms that each new company insisted she also fill out. It was never enough, and she was starting to get nervous about money.

She clicked open her usual job-search sites, and browsed through the options. Most weren’t even advertising their salaries, and were asking for candidates that ‘work well under pressure’. Underpaid and overworked, by the sounds of it.

She was just about to close her laptop when an advertisement she hadn’t spotted before caught her eye. It looked like clickbait, but she was intrigued all the same.

‘Females between 18-40 wanted for high-paying, low effort work.’

Well that sounded like her kind of job! Even if it was nonsense, she wanted to read what they had to say. If she didn’t start making money soon then she’d have to throw herself on to the mercy of her parents, and move back home. Faith was 31, and she didn’t want to suffer the indignity of having failed at adulthood and having to move home. Besides, her parents had converted her old room into an office, so she’d either be sharing a bed with them, or stuck on the sofa. She shuddered at the very idea.

She clicked on the link and read through a surprisingly well-written advert asking any interested parties to contact them via telephone. She was used to sending emails and uploading her CV for job applications, but this wasn’t asking for any of that. Just for her to call. Deciding to go along with the ad, she picked up her phone and dialled the number.

A perky female receptionist picked up, and Faith was so surprised by the fact that someone who sounded so professional had answered, that she missed the first part of the greeting.

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Inquired the receptionist.

“Oh! Yes, sorry. Hi, I didn’t expect you to answer or sound normal.” stammered Faith.

Fantastic. What a great way to start an interview process.

“Not to worry. How can I help you?” said the receptionist kindly.

“Um, I saw your ad online looking for women between 18-40, and I was curious as to what the job is? It’s not very clear on the listing.” explained Faith

“Wonderful! ” chirped the receptionist. “It’s hard to explain over the phone, and I don’t have all the details to hand at the moment so it’s probably best to book an appointment with one of our management team. They’ll answer all the questions that you have, and then once you’re happy we can get you started. How does that sound?”

It sounds dodgy, thought Faith. She still wasn’t any the wiser as to the role or even what sector it was in. She could be asked to be a stripper, for all she knew. Then again, maybe they wouldn’t have extended the age range all the way up to 40 if they wanted sex workers. Maybe it was some kind of new scheme? She prevaricated, and the receptionist seemed to pick up on her hesitation.

“Tell you what, why don’t I book you in for tomorrow and we can explain the whole process to you in detail then? We’ll send a car for you, and drop you off afterwards. There’s absolutely no obligation towards anything, it’s just a chat! We have a very nice coffee machine too, the lattes are to die for.” she confided.

Faith did like coffee. And it wasn’t as though she was swamped with job offers, or even escort bursa anything to do. Her whole plan tomorrow had been to dutifully browse for more jobs before panicking about her situation again and then inevitably ordering a takeaway and binge watching something. This was better, even if it ultimately turned out to be a waste of time. At least she could say she’d been for an interview.

“Go on then, book me in. Is there a dress code?” asked Faith.

“Oh no, don’t worry about that. We’re very relaxed, just wear whatever you’re most comfortable in.” the receptionist responded.

Faith gave her address and full name to the woman, and received a pick-up time for the car in return. She had to be ready at 10:30, and the appointment was scheduled for 11:00. Plenty of time to get back for her binge watching session if it all goes sour.

The next morning, Faith showered and dressed herself for the interview. She hesitated over what to wear, as she was used to business dress for meetings and interviews but didn’t want to appear too formal if that wasn’t what they wanted. In the end she plumped for a knee-length grey pencil skirt and white blouse, and tied her mousy brown hair up into a pony tail. She accessorised it with a colourful silk scarf, hoping that it would tone down the business dress.

After smearing on a bit of makeup and forcing down some toast for her breakfast, she was ready. Anxiously pacing her kitchen while she waited for the car to arrive, she imagined all the worst case scenarios. She could be kidnapped. She could be sold into slavery. She could be asked the square root of something. She hoped the car would actually come, she would be so embarrassed if she’d gotten all hyped up and ready for an interview that was never going to happen.

As if by magic, a very shiny car pulled up to her house. Faith blinked a couple of times, wondering if she’d imagined it, before eventually leaving her spot at the kitchen counter and opening her front door. The car was brand new, and a uniformed driver got out and smiled at her, before opening one of the back doors. Faith hurriedly locked her house and tottered in her heels down the driveway towards the car, and managed to slide herself in. It was beautiful inside, all buttery soft leather seats and tinted windows. The driver got back in and nodded to her in the rear view mirror, smiling once again.

“Good morning Miss. I’ll be taking you to your interview. Make sure you have your seatbelt on and we’ll get going.”

Faith scrabbled for her seatbelt and managed to secure it, offering a ‘thank you’ to the friendly driver. She gazed out the tinted window as they pulled away from her house, and she spotted her nosy next-door neighbour peering out from behind his curtains. Feeling somewhat smug, she sat back and enjoyed the comfortable ride to wherever they were going.

The driver navigated his way to the centre of town, eventually pulling up to a well-maintained townhouse. The sort that might be a fancy solicitors, or a private dental practice. Faith looked at it curiously, trying to figure out again what the job might be.

“Here we are Miss. I’ll wait here for you, and when you’re done I’ll take you home again.” said the driver.

“Oh, thank you! What was your name?” asked Faith

“Barry, Miss.” answered the driver, with another nod and a smile.

“Thank you Barry, I’m Faith. I’ll see you soon!” said Faith, as she climbed out of the car.

Faith entered the building and glanced around, spotting a woman who looked to be in her early görükle escort forties sat behind a glass desk. She walked over and introduced herself, discovering that this was indeed the woman she had been speaking to on the phone.

The woman checked her in and got her sat in a plush cream coloured armchair to wait for the person who’d be interviewing her, and dashed off to get her the promised latte.

She was right, thought Faith, the lattes are delicious. She gazed around the room as she sipped her drink, which was bright and airy and decorated tastefully. There were still no indications as to what she’d be doing, but she’d decided to stop worrying about it. If nothing else it beat a day on her sofa feeling sorry for herself, and she’d garnered a free coffee and a ride in a nice car. Not bad at all, and she hadn’t been kidnapped yet either.

At 11:00 on the dot, an attractive man appeared at the door and called her name. Faith smiled and got up, following him to his office.

“Hello Faith, it’s lovely to meet you.” the man said, offering his hand for her to shake. “My name is Daniel, and I’ll be working with you throughout this process.”

She sat down in the chair he’d indicated, and furrowed her brow slightly.

“This process? I thought this was a job interview?” said Faith.

“It is, but it’s not your typical interview. Let me explain.” offered Daniel. He sat back in his chair and reached down to a drawer at the bottom of his desk. He pulled out what looked like a brochure, and placed it on the desk in front of Faith, indicating for her to flick through it.

“We offer…a service. To wealthy individuals. Very wealthy. Many women want children but don’t want to damage their figures, or perhaps don’t want to wait the necessary time for a baby to reach full term. You understand, these are people for whom the things they want are usually delivered at the drop of a hat. My company has developed a way around that. We have a small team of women who go through pregnancy on behalf of the client, and then the baby is delivered to them directly afterwards.”

Faith was stunned. She hadn’t really known what to expect, but it hadn’t been this. Faith didn’t want children, and the idea of pregnancy freaked her out. She put the brochure back down on the desk, the page was showing a picture of a very pregnant woman grinning manically at the camera.

“Thank you, but I’m not interested. It doesn’t sound like something that would be for me at all.” Faith made to rise from her chair, disappointment bubbling up in her chest.

“Hang on,” said Daniel, reaching out to her. “Let me explain the process, and then you can think about it. I promise we won’t push if it’s not something you want, obviously we understand that it’s not for everyone.”

“The work is very well paid.” he said bluntly. “We pay our girls £1000 a week, while they’re waiting to get pregnant. Then once they’re pregnant, it rises to £5000 a week, so that they can maintain their health and a the kind of lifestyle that benefits both them and the baby. Upon delivery of a baby, they get a bonus of £100,000. You do the maths, it adds up.”

Faiths head was reeling at the idea of that kind of salary. She wouldn’t even have to do any other kind of work. She could buy a new house, get a new car, go on long holidays, live the kind of life she’d always wanted…

But the fact remained that she still didn’t want to be a breeding machine. It would ruin her body, for starters. And what would people say? What would she say if someone asked what she did for a living?

Faith hesitated, still unsure as to how to respond. Daniel chose to continue with his spiel.

“The girls take a supplement that we provide. It keeps them healthy, but it has the benefit of speeding up the development of the baby so that it takes less than three months to reach full term, rather than nine. You could easily have four babies a year with that, you could retire after ten years.”

A baby in three months! Faith had never heard of such a thing. She had to say, the maths was tempting her. She’d always dreamed of being wealthy, but with the career she’d had it was very unlikely to ever happen. Even less so now, given her unemployment and addiction to Chinese takeaway.

Daniel pounced on her hesitation.

“Why don’t we try it out? All of our new girls need to go on a preparation medication to get their bodies ready for the pregnancies, but it will also be an indicator as to how good a fit you are for the role. If your body responds well then we can see how you feel about it and take it from there. If there’s no response or if you don’t like it then we can leave it there, and no harm done.”

That sounded like a good idea to Faith, she wouldn’t have to decide just yet. And maybe her body wouldn’t respond, in which case it would never have gone anywhere anyway. Except…

“Okay,” she said carefully. “Are there any side effects? And how long would the preparation take?”

“The preparation time is two weeks. We’ll pay you the rate that we pay our girls on the books as a gesture of good will, to show you that we mean what we say. £2000 straight into your bank account, and you just have to take the medication. In terms of side effects, it differs for each girl. Some report no side effects, some report a bit of nausea at times, or a headache or two, but it’s never normally more than that. Certainly nothing serious. Is that good for you?” asked Daniel.

Two thousand pounds! And she could still apply to jobs in the meantime, in case this didn’t go anywhere. It would take the strain off her finances for a little while at least, and even if the medication suited her it still didn’t mean she had to agree with it.

“Okay,” sighed Faith. “I’m sold. What do I need to do?”

Daniel beamed at her, and reached into his drawer again. He pulled out a small bottle of pills and slid it towards her.

“Take one of these three times a day with food for the next two weeks. I’ll book you in for another appointment two weeks from now, and we can discuss next steps. In the meantime, just live your life as you would normally. You don’t need to change anything at the moment. If you decide to go with employment here then there are some diet and exercise regimes that need to be implemented in the event that you get pregnant, but we can discuss that when you’ve made your mind up.”

Daniel stood up, and Faith followed suit, sliding the pills into her bag.

“Can I get you another coffee before Barry takes you home?” Daniel said as he offered her his hand to shake.

“No thanks, I’d best be heading back. Thank you though, for the opportunity. I guess I’ll see you in two weeks time.” Faith offered him a nervous smile, and he responded with a genuine grin.

“I hope to be working with you soon Faith, I think you’ll be a great addition to the team.”

He guided Faith out of his office and back to reception, where she was handed back into the care of the perky receptionist. She took Faiths’ bank details and made a few notes on the desktop, before showing Faith to the door, and wishing her a safe trip home. Barry tipped his hat to Faith again, and opened the car door for her. She melted into the seat and let out a breath she felt she had been holding for the past half an hour. It was a lot to think about.