Diagnosis: Expecting Boss's Baby

“I don’t blame you, after the way he behaved. Well, I can’t wait to tell my husband the good news. Please remember not to say anything to my sister.”

“I promise,” Natalie said.

Shortly after Rita left, Heather’s nurse, Cynthia Hernandez, called Natalie’s name. The young woman proceeded to weigh her and take her temperature. She had a distracted air. There were dark circles under her eyes and a strand of her tied-back dark hair straggled along one cheek.

“Are you feeling okay?” Natalie asked.

“Excuse me?” The young woman looked startled.

“You’re a million miles away.” Always before, Heather’s nurse had struck Natalie as cheerful and outgoing.

“I’m a little tired,” Cynthia said. “My boyfriend and I were out late last night. It doesn’t interfere with my work, honestly.”

“I never suggested it did,” Natalie reassured her. “It was a friendly question.” Even though she worked for the center’s administrator, that didn’t mean she pried into everyone’s business.

She simply cared about all the people here, staff and patients, who these days were referred to as clients. She cared about Rita and Loretta, and about Cynthia, too.

The nurse asked for a urine specimen, then prepared Natalie for the exam. A few minutes later Heather came bustling into the room, wearing a traditional white coat and stethoscope.

“Nat! So tell me what’s going on. Are you feeling ill?” Concern shone in the obstetrician’s face. Despite her thirty-six years, Heather looked almost too young to be a doctor, and her intensity and halo of red hair made her seem larger than life.

There was no point in being coy, Natalie told herself. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“Let’s find out.” Within minutes, Heather had examined Natalie, determined the date of her last period and tested the specimen. “You’re right. I’d put your due date at around May first.”

After Natalie got dressed, they sat down to talk. Patients often commented on how carefully Heather listened to them, and the reason was obvious.

“I don’t know how to tell the father,” Natalie said. “It’s a delicate situation.”

“He’s not married, is he?” Heather asked.

“No, of course not.”

“Good. Someone I know is seeing a married man and I wish I could discourage her,” she said.

An image of the nurse flashed into Natalie’s mind. Was that why Cynthia had been out late on a Monday night, because her married boyfriend was sneaking around at odd hours? If so, she hoped the young woman came to her senses before she ended up with a dilemma like Natalie’s.

“My situation is a little different,” she said. “The father might marry me out of a sense of obligation, but…well, there are problems.”

Heather gazed at her sympathetically. “It’s hard to raise a child alone, although lots of women do it well. Personally, I think it’s best if there’s a strong father figure.”

“Amy mentioned adoption,” Natalie said reluctantly. “I don’t see how I could give up my baby, though. What if he or she came back years later and reproached me?”

“What if he or she came back years later and thanked you?” Heather toyed with the edge of her white coat in an uncharacteristically nervous way. “Never mind. Just because a decision is right for one person doesn’t mean it’s right for another.”

Natalie got the impression that her friend was talking about an incident from her own life. But if she was, she chose to keep it to herself.

“In any case, the father needs to be told, doesn’t he?” Natalie said. “I’m assuming I can rely on your nurse’s discretion not to feed the gossip mill.”

“Cynthia is utterly trustworthy on that score.” Heather stopped fiddling with her coat. “The best decision is the one that makes you happy. Sooner or later, your condition is going to become obvious, but in the meantime, there’s no rush. Take your time figuring out what you want to do.”

The idea was comforting, to focus on the moment and let the future take care of itself. Natalie knew instantly that this was the advice she’d been seeking.

“You’re right. I’m going to wait,” she said. “He’ll discover the truth eventually. No need for me to throw it in his face.”

“Don’t wait too long,” Heather warned.

“Define ‘too long.’”

“Nine months.” They both smiled.

Natalie stood up. “I know you’ve got other patients to see. I’m sorry to take up so much of your time.”

“Not at all! I’m glad to help,” Heather said. “Don’t forget to make an appointment for your next checkup. Cynthia will give you information and a prescription for vitamins. Ask her to see if we have any free samples for you.”

“Thanks,” Natalie said. “You’ve helped more than you know.”

PATRICK WAS BEGINNING to wonder if he’d made a mistake by installing videoconferencing technology on his computer. Even without it, he’d have had to deal with Jason Carmichael by telephone, but at least he wouldn’t have had to face the other doctor’s irritated glare.

“No one mentioned that the new facility wouldn’t be ready until April,” Jason growled. “I’ve given notice and put my house on the market so I could arrive in February, as we discussed. Now suddenly there’s a delay!”

“No, there isn’t.”

“I think I know a delay when I see one!” the man snapped.

Patrick reminded himself that Jason was one of the nation’s leading infertility specialists, and it was a coup to have lured him from Virginia to serve as chief of the new infertility office. So what if the man was known to be abrasive? He got results with patients, and that was what counted.

“I thought you understood that I want you to get established before the opening,” Patrick said. “I’ve arranged to set aside a temporary office for you in our West Wing. I’m sure you’ll find it more than adequate.”

“I’ll have to move my office? That’s inconvenient, but it’s too late to change things now, I suppose,” the man grumbled. With his dramatic black hair and green eyes, he might be considered handsome, but his high-handed attitude made it hard to see him as anything but a potential pain in the neck.

“Sorry about the misunderstanding.” Patrick was determined to remain diplomatic. He’d provided Jason with full information when they met in person last June during a medical convention, but apparently the man hadn’t been paying attention.

“The main reason I called is that I have to fly to Los Angeles next week to speak at a seminar,” Jason said. “If you want to hold a press conference to announce that you’re hiring me, it’s the only time I’ll be available until after the holidays.”

“Next week?” Patrick had planned to schedule the press conference for early November, after the Oktoberfest fund-raiser at his estate. “That’s short notice.”

“Flying to the West Coast again would take too much time from my schedule,” Jason said. “I can pop down to Serene Beach on Tuesday afternoon or Wednesday morning, take your pick.” He made his offer sound like a great concession.

There was no point in arguing. Patrick was counting on the news of hiring Dr. Carmichael to generate excitement and bring in more donations for the Endowment Fund. “Tuesday afternoon,” he said.

The physician nodded. “Fine. Let my secretary know if you need her to fax you more information about me. By the way, since my current secretary can’t relocate, it’s essential that you hire someone to be on staff no later than January.”

“Before you arrive?”

“I want my files set up and my appointments in order when I get there. Someone experienced and reliable.”

“Anything else?” Patrick asked, trying to keep the edge from his voice.

“That’s all I can think of. Call my secretary with the time when you get the press conference set up.”

“I’ll do that.” Patrick gritted his teeth to keep from adding a sarcastic “sir,” along with a salute.

Jason clicked off. Patrick stared blurrily at the computer screen. He’s a brilliant doctor. Keep that in mind. Putting up with rudeness was a small sacrifice compared to the prestige of landing a nationally known specialist like Dr. Carmichael.

Patrick buzzed Natalie, and she appeared in the doorway, her blue eyes inquisitive. Her vulnerable air and the silkiness of her summer dress did alarming things to Patrick’s masculine instincts.

He dragged his mind back to the subject at hand. “I need to meet with Loretta Arista. Jason Carmichael’s going to be in town next week and it’s our only chance to schedule a press conference.”

Natalie made a note on her pad. “Next week? That’s sudden.”

“Dr. Carmichael likes to have things his own way,” Patrick said, then added, “Once he settles in, I’m sure he’ll be fine. By the way, the videoconferencing works quite well.”

“I’ll have to try it sometime. Maybe with my sister Alana in Oregon.” Natalie walked over to stand behind him, regarding the videocamera fixed atop the computer. Patrick tapped a button and suddenly an image appeared on the screen, live and in motion: her standing, him seated, both looking out at themselves.

“Does that make you feel like a shoplifter under surveillance?” he joked, and saw his image move as he spoke.

“It makes me feel like a movie star.” She took a closer look. “Well, maybe an actress in a low-budget production.”

As she brushed against him, Patrick caught the scent of almonds and honey. Bath soap, he thought, and visualized her running a bar of soap along her bare skin as she stood sleek and naked in the shower, hair tousled around her shoulders. He could almost taste the almonds.

On the screen Patrick saw his eyes dilate and his lips part as if he was about to sample something wonderful. Startled, he clicked off the camera.

Natalie took an abrupt step back, as if she, too, had snapped out of a daydream. “I’ll call Loretta,” she said, and headed for the door.

“One more thing.” She halted. “Our new specialist wants a top-notch secretary. I’m relying on you to find her for him.”

“Me?” Natalie asked. “Why not Human Resources?”

“Because we need someone out of the ordinary,” Patrick said. “Human Resources can place the ads and do the initial screening, but I want you to interview the candidates. She’ll have to be a self-starter, reliable and experienced. Someone like you.”

“The hard part is going to be saying no to applicants,” Natalie admitted. “I hate disappointing people.”

“You’ll hate it even more if you disappoint Jason Carmichael,” Patrick said. “By the way, one more qualification—his secretary needs a thick skin.”

“I’ll call the zoo and see if they have any alligators who can type,” she said.

After Natalie left, Patrick stared after her for a bemused moment. He didn’t know how he would function in this crazy-making job if it wasn’t for her. His predecessor, Dr. Grier, had been so high-handed that he’d destroyed staff morale and sent donations plummeting, but at least he’d had the sense to hire Natalie.

Thinking about her reminded Patrick of her mother’s dolls. With a smile, he picked up the phone and called Miriam James, the gift-shop manager, to give her Angie’s number.

By the time he hung up, the public-relations director was waiting to see him.

“WE’LL HAVE TO HUSTLE to get the press kits ready in time, but otherwise, there shouldn’t be a problem.” Sitting on the far side of Patrick’s desk, Loretta Arista gave a knowing nod to Natalie. “I could use all the help I can get, of course.”

“Count on me,” Natalie said. Remembering Rita’s confidential disclosure about her sister trying to get pregnant, she wished she had a magic wand so she could help. Well, maybe the great Dr. Jason Carmichael was the answer to Loretta’s prayers.

“If you hit any roadblocks, I’ll run interference,” Patrick said. “If you like, we can hold the press conference at the yacht-club ballroom.”

“I’d prefer our own auditorium.” Slim and businesslike, Loretta wore her dark hair short, with a white streak in the front that gave her a sophisticated air. “That will make it easier for our key staff members to attend, even if it is a less-than-elegant location.” The auditorium was located in the basement of the Birthing Center. “We can host a reception afterward in the conference room next to it.”

Not only top staff members but patrons would be invited. The hiring of a new infertility director affected them all.

“I’m debating whether we should continue to keep his identity a secret,” Patrick said. “It won’t be easy, with us running off press releases and making copies of his photograph to hand out when he arrives.”

“It’s more exciting if it’s a surprise, to the press, as well as to everyone else,” Loretta said. “Let’s try to keep it under wraps.”

As Natalie took notes, Patrick and Loretta went over the details of the presentation and the reception. As always, she was impressed by the way her boss focused on details without losing sight of the big picture.

She tried not to stare at him. Patrick always seemed too muscular and vibrant to fit behind a desk. She knew exactly where he did fit, and how it felt. In bed, out of bed…

A few minutes ago, standing behind him, she’d had an outrageous urge to lean forward until her breasts pressed into his back. She’d imagined him turning around and pulling her onto his lap, after which their clothes would rapidly disappear. Thank goodness he couldn’t read minds.

“This won’t interfere with planning for the Oktoberfest, I hope,” Patrick said.

That lighthearted evening celebration was less than two weeks away. Political leaders, entertainment and sports figures and corporate heads from across Southern California had been invited.

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