by Susan Crosby
“And mine to Gerald.”
“Of course. Sara Beth,” Emily said in farewell, not making eye contact before she swept out of the room.
“We’ve served together on several committees and boards through the years,” Penny said.
“Her daughter Lisa is my best friend.” Sara Beth wondered if that would give her credibility with Ted’s mother, let her think Sara Beth wasn’t untested in their stratosphere. She’d been to formal parties at the Armstrong house and knew what to expect—and what was expected of her.
Penny leaned close. “I guess Greece is the place to go for face-lifts now.”
Sara Beth tried not to smile too much at the catty remark. She’d noticed the difference in Emily, too. However, she didn’t dare make a comment that could come back to haunt her. “Did you want company while you wait for Ted?”
“I’d like that, yes, and the chance to get to know you a little better. Do you mind if we wait here? I know places like employee lounges are usually busy this time of day.”
“The lobby’s fine.” Sara Beth let her lead the way to her choice of seating, a small sofa by the front window. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you when Ted’s meeting might be over.” She wondered if she should have Ms. Goodheart get a message to Ted, to remind him of his lunch date. Since he hadn’t told Sara Beth about it, she wondered if he remembered it himself.
“My son has been elusive since Valentine’s Day.” Penny’s gaze was direct and only slightly accusatory, but Sara Beth didn’t feel responsible for Ted’s lack of contact with his parents.
“He’s doing such important work.” She was uncomfortable calling the woman Penny, so she didn’t call her anything. “He works long days. And in his little bit of free time, he’s been furnishing his loft.” Which should make you happy.
“How long does it take to call his mother? I had to catch him by e-mail to arrange this lunch today.” She settled back. “So, he’s well?”
“Yes, very well.”
“And his loft looks presentable, finally?”
“It looks like him.” Sara Beth smiled at the thought. “Masculine, stylish, contemporary.”
“Stylish?” She looked doubtful.
“He has his own style. It’s represented in what he chose as furnishings. And he has some truly amazing art pieces. He said he learned about art from you.”
“Did he? Sometimes one wonders what one’s children take away from childhood.” She looked pleased. “I suppose I’ll have to drop by sometime and see for myself, since he hasn’t extended an invitation.”
“I think you’ll like it.” Sara Beth didn’t know if he was going to throw a housewarming party as she’d suggested, so she didn’t bring it up. His relationship with his mother was his business.
“I suppose you stay in touch with your mother. Daughters tend to be better at that than sons.”
“I’m close to my mom.” In this case, it was the mother who was doing the avoiding instead of the child. Sara Beth hadn’t heard from her since her text message a week ago saying she was staying for another week. She should be back tomorrow, unless she decided to stay even longer.
“What does she think of Ted?”
“Actually, they haven’t met. Mom’s been out of town. You know,” Sara Beth said, lowering her voice, “Ted and I haven’t gone public. Since we work for the same company, we want to keep it quiet. I’m sure you understand.”
“That makes good sense. Why make things potentially uncomfortable for others? Ted has always been aware of propriety.”
And how would you feel if your model-of-propriety son found himself about to be a father? Sara Beth tried to ignore the possibility, but it simmered in her mind at times.
The lobby door opened and a woman entered. Wilma Goodheart smiled and raced around her desk to hug the new arrival.
“It’s Mother’s Day at the institute,” Sara Beth murmured, amazed. “That would be my mom,” she said to Penny.
“Well, how nice. We get to meet.” She stood, then waited for Sara Beth to do the same.
The way this was going, Ted would probably show up—
Yep. Right on schedule. He walked into the lobby, a pink message slip in his hand. Ms. Goodheart must have sent a note to say his mother was here.
Since Sara Beth was the common denominator of the group, she made the introductions, although she moved everyone away from the reception desk. She was grateful that no one suggested they all have lunch together. Small blessings.
Ted sent her a woe-is-me look as he left the building with his mother. Sara Beth tried not to laugh.
She finally hugged her mother, welcoming her home. “You look rested, Mom. And more tan than I can remember you letting yourself get. I guess I don’t need to ask if you enjoyed yourself.”
“I had a wonderful time. I’d go right back tomorrow.”
“Let’s have lunch. You can tell me all about it,” Sara Beth offered.
“It’ll have to wait. Wilma and I are going out. What’s your schedule for the weekend?”
“Busy. Full.” She and Ted planned a drive to the shore, were going to stay overnight, be out where they wouldn’t run into people they knew. “Tuesday, as usual, then?”
“That’s fine.” She bent close to Sara Beth. “Are you and Ted an item now? You and his mother were huddled awfully close.”
“I’ve seen him a few times. We’re not being open about it, so don’t talk to Ms. Goodheart about it, okay?”
Grace raised a hand as if swearing to it. “But remember this, Sara Beth. If you can’t be public about a relationship, something’s not right about it. It’s an additional stress, and it can lead to arguments and hurt feelings. Be careful, okay? Please, sweetheart. Guard your heart.”
Sara Beth hugged her mother, whose cautionary words rang true, unfortunately. Secrets weren’t good, and eventually were exposed. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be careful.”
Although it was hard to guard her heart when it was already being held captive, even if its captor didn’t realize it…
Sara Beth went for a walk during her lunch hour, needing to be alone and away from the institute. It was nearly spring. Green was beginning to be a dominant color after the drab browns and grays of winter, and was always a welcome sight. Rebirth. New beginnings. Yes, spring had always appealed to her.
And now that’d she’d resigned herself to never seeing her mother’s file, she could have an especially good new beginning this season, a truly fresh start. She would never know her father, but she knew herself. Liked herself. That counted for a lot.
Ted was already in the lab working when Sara Beth returned. So was Chance. They acknowledged her but didn’t stop their discussion, which was riddled with scientific lingo she couldn’t hear well enough to make sense of. She finished the box of materials Ted had brought up the day before and needed more.
She waited for a good time to interrupt, then suddenly Ted left the room.
“Wait,” she called out. “I need—” But the door shut, cutting off her words.
Chance met her gaze. “He’ll be back. He’s in one of his zones and, frankly, I don’t want to break into his thoughts. He’s onto something. What is it you need?”
“Files. I’m not authorized to access the vault.”
“I forgot. Why not, anyway?”
“I don’t know. It wasn’t something I’d ever had to do before, so it’d never concerned me.”
Chance picked up the phone and dialed. “Lisa, it’s Chance. Can I get authorization for Sara Beth to get files from the vault?…Right now…. Okay. How about temporary access?…Thanks.” He hung up, then looked at his pager, which had gone off. “She’ll meet you there. One time only, at least for now, so grab a couple of boxes while you’re at it. I’ve got to get to the clinic.”
It would be a special kind of torture, Sara Beth decided, being allowed in the vault while accompanied by a witness. Torture, and a test of her newfound sense of peace at having come to terms with never seeing her mother�
�s file. Still, her legs were unsteady as she took the stairs down to the basement, carrying the box of files she’d just finished. She stumbled twice, her heart pounding so hard she couldn’t hear anything but the thundering beat.
Lisa was right behind her.
“This place has always creeped me out,” Lisa said.
“More lights would be a plus.”
“Maybe. It’s just old and scary.” She slid her ID in the slot and pulled the steel door open. “Need some help?” Lisa asked.
Sara Beth’s stomach churned as she went inside. She looked at the dates on the side of the box. “I need to refile these and fill up a couple more boxes from the next sequential dates.”
Because the vault had previously been a panic room before the institute was rebuilt, it still contained a sofa and chair, as well as a bathroom. File storage was a room beyond the furnishings, out of direct sight. She and Lisa located where the folders belonged and returned them.
“Let’s hurry. I hate being down here,” Lisa said, shoving the empty box close to Sara Beth and grabbing another one.
A piece of her mourned the lost opportunity. She couldn’t even manage a smile to soothe Lisa’s fear of the dark. They filled the boxes without conversation between them, a rarity.
“Need some help?” Ted came into the room, making it seem half its size.
“Yes.” Lisa headed out the door, calling back to Ted, “You can lock up. I’m outta here.”
Her footsteps echoed as she ran up the stairs.
“Alone at last,” he said, slipping his arms around Sara Beth, bending to kiss her. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”
She couldn’t kiss him. She couldn’t even move. With Lisa gone, could she ask Ted for his help? Ask him to do something unethical? He’d found a six-dollar error on a furniture bill totaling thousands and had insisted on paying it. He’d reached the highest level of achievement the Boy Scouts had.
Everything he said and did advertised him as a highly principled, ethical man. No, she couldn’t ask him, couldn’t back him into a corner like that. He would have to turn her down.
So she hugged him instead, then she did the only thing she could.
“Would you mind taking that box to the lab,” she asked him, “while I finish packing this one?”
“I can carry two boxes, Sara Beth.” He flexed his muscles and grinned.
She almost sighed. Apparently it just wasn’t meant to be.
She gave it one last shot. “I think I’ll pack four boxes. Then neither of us will have to come back down for a while.”
“If ever,” he said, sliding the last files into a box as she passed them to him. “I figure we’ll have all the statistics we need by then.” He hefted both boxes. “I’ll be back.”
A five-minute window of opportunity opened up for Sara Beth.
Not enough time to debate what to do. Only time enough for one thing—action.
Chapter Twelve
“Are you sure?” Lisa asked Ted in a closed-door meeting in Derek’s office almost a week later. Chance leaned against a file cabinet. Paul paced. Lisa and Ted sat in visitor’s chairs across from Derek’s desk.
“Positive,” Ted said.
“You have proof?”
“In the report I just handed you are statistics confirming that the institute has had a three-year run of above-average numbers of multiple births, enough to be suspicious that too many embryos were implanted. However, we also found similar statistics twice before in the institute’s history, or at least in the past twenty years, which is as far back as we went for now. We believe in each case that it was purely happenstance. No one breached protocols.”
“I told you,” Derek said smugly. “We can use this information to our benefit right now. Let it be known that our in vitro procedures have a higher-than-average success rate. Business will boom.”
Ted disliked Derek more each day, had come to resent the way he stopped by the lab almost daily, asking for a full accounting on the day’s work, as if Ted and Chance were shirking their duties. They had decided not to tell Derek about their trial study until preliminary results were in.
“Just don’t guarantee anything,” Chance cautioned Derek. “As Ted said, it’s happened before. Following that logic, it’s likely to ease off, too.”
Ted agreed. “What’s important for the moment is that we found incomplete reporting of critical statistics. Sara Beth has done a thorough job of compiling the information and updating it into the new computer system. You’ll be able to pull out any statistic you need, should anyone question the institute again.”
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” Lisa said, then looked at her chief-of-staff brother, Paul. “It was hard having that shadow hanging over us.”
“Yes, let me add my thanks,” Paul said, something Derek hadn’t bothered to do. “I think Lisa talked to you about writing a best-practices manual of lab protocols? It will be a required checklist that everyone will adhere to and enter into the computer. How long do you think that would take?”
“A week or so,” Ted said. When they were finished with it, Sara Beth would return to her regular duties. He wouldn’t get to turn his head and see her anytime he wanted. Couldn’t watch her stretch out the kinks after an hour in front of the computer.
Or watch her stare into space now and then, unfocused. Was she pregnant and hadn’t told him yet?
He thought back. She’d been distracted for almost a week—since the day they’d brought up the last boxes from the vault, actually. Their weekend at the shore hadn’t been as relaxing as it should’ve been, even though they’d had all the privacy they’d sought.
“We need to bring Ramona in on this,” Derek was saying. “Have her come up with a PR plan to let people know that the Armstrong Fertility Institute is seeing such great success. This is a good time for a push.”
Paul nodded in agreement. Ted had met Paul’s fiancée, Ramona, a few times and liked her. She had a good head on her shoulders and was an excellent strategist. Once a reporter, the institute had hired her as their public relations strategist.
“Let’s talk to her together,” Paul said finally, then glanced at his watch. “Thank you all again for your hard work to clear up this problem. I hope we can move forward now without distraction.”
Ted and Chance walked down the hall to the lab.
“I don’t suppose this means the end of Derek’s visits to the lab,” Chance muttered.
“I doubt it. He’s always seemed more interested in our research than the disproportionate number of births. I don’t understand why he wasn’t worried about that. The institute stood to lose a lot of money if, in fact, we had been implanting too many embryos, thus exaggerating results.”
“I agree. The institute stands to pull in a hell of a lot of more money if our research yields results. And the sky’s the limit if we can get beyond elevating sperm count and motility.”
“He does seem interested more in dollars than reputation, doesn’t he?” Ted mused. “I guess you don’t become CFO without money being the main focus of your thinking.”
“Speaking of the main focus of your thinking,” Chase said. “You and nurse Sara Beth seem to have become…close.”
Ted had promised Sara Beth he wouldn’t talk to anyone about her, and he’d agreed. “I like her. It’s been nice having her around. Breaks up the tedium when you’re not there.”
“Breaks up the tedium? Right.” Chance laughed. “You’re not fooling anyone.”
Were they that obvious? Or had someone seen them together away from the office?
“You watch her with the same intensity as you conduct a tricky experiment. I think when you’ve finished writing the manual and she comes back to work with me, you should ask her out. I’m sure she would say yes.”
Ted relaxed. “Maybe.”
They went into the lab, finding it empty, except for a note from Sara Beth, telling him to call her when he wanted to start working on the manual, which he did ri
ght away.
He and Chance had barely gotten their computers up and running when the door opened, but Lisa came in, not Sara Beth.
“We have a problem,” she said, handing them a sheet of paper bearing the Breyer Medical Center letterhead.
Before the door shut, Sara Beth arrived and said a happy good morning.
“Would you mind coming back in about fifteen minutes, please?” Lisa said to her.
“She can stay,” Ted said as Chance grabbed the letter and swore.
“What’s going on?” Sara Beth asked, coming closer, her gaze moving from person to person then staying on Ted.
“Our former employer is accusing us of unethical behavior regarding funding issues during our years there,” Ted explained.
“No way,” Sara Beth said. “No possible way.”
“I appreciate your faith, but the burden of proof will be ours,” Ted informed.
Sara Beth put a hand on Ted’s. “You are the most ethical man on the planet. There’s no way you’ve done anything wrong.”
Guilt took a bite out of Ted. By not telling Derek or Paul that he and Chance had entered into a trial study with one subject, they weren’t being forthcoming. And if a best-practices protocol manual had been in place a week ago, Ted couldn’t have justified the secretive project.
“Are we ever going to be allowed to just do our jobs?” Chance asked, frustration in his voice. He threw the paper onto the lab counter and walked away to look out the window at the parking lot. “Ted and I came here to get away from the bureaucracy that Breyer burdened us with, constantly tying our hands. We’ve already made progress here that would’ve taken us years had we stayed there.”
“What do they want?” Sara Beth asked.
“They say we recruited and used funds dishonestly,” Ted answered. “That we promised impossible results.”
“Can you think of anything they might have that they could use against you?” Lisa asked.
Ted shook his head as Chance almost shouted, “No. Nothing. We tried to do what we’d been hired to do. Even that was a daily uphill battle. We had to write our own grants, meet with potential investors, beat the drum. We were spending most of our time raising funds. It’s no wonder we couldn’t accomplish anything of value.”
