by Gina Wilkins
Cecilia nodded glumly. “It’s something we’re all becoming concerned about. Controlled substances—especially powerful and addictive painkillers such as Orcadol—have become increasingly available through the black market here in the county. We’re seeing an increase in drug-addicted mothers and in delivery complications. The number of stillbirths is up, as well as other infant medical problems. It seems as though the crisis has been intensifying during the past few months, particularly. I know Detective Collins has been hanging around a lot lately, trying to track down where the women are getting the drugs.”
“Well, that would certainly explain part of Mari’s bad mood. I don’t know if you’re aware that she and Bryce Collins were pretty seriously involved at one time. They broke up when he tried to force her to choose between him and the career in medicine she had always dreamed of. Fortunately, in my opinion, she chose medicine. Their breakup was unpleasant and painful, and they’ve hardly been on the best of terms since. In fact, Collins is pretty much a jerk about the whole thing. Even after all this time, he’s still bitter and angry with Mari. If I find out he’s been giving her trouble—”
“I really wouldn’t know,” Cecilia said hastily. “I stay so busy and focused with my patients that I tend to fall out of the loop when it comes to any other department. I’m always the last to hear any official news—or even run-of-the-mill gossip—which is rather ironic, considering that my brother is a rising executive in the corporation.”
“And I’m usually in some other city, so I’m hardly in the loop myself. But I could tell that both Mari and Dad are completely preoccupied with business right now. In Dad’s case I think it has something to do with the new public relations director.”
“Lillith Cunningham? I haven’t met her yet, but I’ve heard she’s nice.”
“I like her, and I know Mari’s very fond of her. Dad seems to think she’s a little kooky. He’s very skeptical of some of her ideas. I hope he doesn’t make things too difficult for her.”
“Your father seems like a very reasonable and practical man who puts the best interests of the company first.”
“You can say that again. Especially since my mother died, my father lives and breathes Bingham Enterprises.”
“My brother was coming very close to doing the same thing. I’ve nagged him for ages about finding a balance between work and a personal life. Fortunately, I think Hannah and the baby will take care of that. He’ll always be a dedicated employee, but now he’ll have more in his life. As it should be.”
“This from the woman who just admitted she’s so focused on her work she doesn’t even keep up with office gossip?”
She smiled wryly. “True. But don’t forget I’m working on changing that.”
“I’ve hardly forgotten. And speaking of working on our little project…” He shifted so smoothly that she found herself on her back beneath him almost before she realized his intentions.
Her weariness suddenly evaporated. Smiling up at him, she slid her arms around his neck. “Does this mean you’ve recovered your energy?”
“I do believe I have.”
Pulling his mouth down to hers, she smiled against his lips. “Strangely enough, so have I.”
The echoes of their groans of satisfaction had barely faded away when Geoff spoke into the darkness of Cecilia’s bedroom a long time later. His voice was still gravelly. “Cecilia?”
She couldn’t seem to find the strength to form coherent words. “Mmm?”
“Our baby’s going to be beautiful.”
Melting into his arms, she smiled mistily into his damp shoulder. She had no doubt that Geoff was right—as he claimed to always be.
Chapter Eight
“Your suspicions were correct, Mrs. Hoover. You are definitely pregnant.”
The thirty-six-year-old African-American woman sitting at the end of an exam table broke into a tearful smile in response to Cecilia’s announcement. “I can’t believe it. We’ve been trying for so long. And now to find out we’ve been successful…”
Her husband, a tall, lanky laborer in his early forties, looked torn between elation and trepidation. “How long till we can stop worrying about something going wrong?”
Because she knew Rebecca Hoover had suffered two miscarriages in the past, followed by several years of being unable to conceive, Cecilia understood his anxiety. “I can’t offer any guarantees, of course, but everything looks good so far. I’ll be working very closely with Dr. Kyle Bingham, who’s an excellent pediatrician. We’re going to monitor both your wife and the baby very closely, and do everything we can to make sure we deliver a healthy child in about seven months.”
She spent the next fifteen minutes outlining the plan of action for those next seven months. They talked about nutrition, vitamins and a checkup schedule, and then touched on some areas they would discuss in more detail later. By the time they left, the Hoovers seemed a bit calmer and determined to do everything within their power to make this pregnancy a successful one.
They had a tense few weeks ahead of them, Cecilia mused as she made some quick notes in Mrs. Hoover’s file. As she had said, there were no guarantees, but she had a good feeling about this pregnancy. Of course, there was always a chance of complication when a first-time mother was over thirty-five.
Mrs. Hoover was a year younger than Cecilia.
Nervously moistening her lips, she closed the file. She was healthy, she assured herself. She ate well, took vitamins, exercised regularly. It was practically commonplace in some areas these days for women to wait until their late thirties and early forties to bear children. There was no reason at all to think she couldn’t successfully conceive and carry a child. And considering Geoff’s youth and fitness and, er, stamina, she couldn’t imagine any problems in that respect.
It was sometimes still mind-boggling to her that she thought of him so casually—and so intimately. Considering that she had only met the man a few days ago, events were moving almost faster than she could comprehend. It was exciting but, to be honest, rather terrifying.
“Hey, Cecilia, I’m starving. Got time for lunch?” Vanessa had poked her head in the exam room to ask the question, big earrings swaying.
“Yeah, sure. I’ve got a half hour till my next appointment. Did you brown bag?”
“Tuna salad on a croissant. How about you?”
“Turkey on whole wheat.” Standing, Cecilia moved toward the door. “And strawberry yogurt for dessert.”
“Wanna trade? I’ve got chocolate-chip cookies.”
Chuckling, Cecilia shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll stick with the yogurt.”
She needed the calcium, a consideration she saw no need to mention since she didn’t intend to go into further explanations. There would be time enough to fill Vanessa in when a pregnancy test produced a positive result. It wasn’t going to be easy, since Vanessa was going to have a zillion questions, but of all Cecilia’s friends and acquaintances, she knew Vanessa would be the most accepting.
Of course, Eric would support her decision, too, she assured herself. She had no doubt that he would be a loving and visible uncle for her child. But that wouldn’t stop him from expressing his opinion about her decision to have a baby—specifically, Geoff Bingham’s baby—without discussing the idea with him first.
Because Vanessa was pretty much in the very center of the loop when it came to workplace gossip, it shouldn’t have surprised Cecilia at all when her friend said, “Tell me what’s going on between you and Geoff Bingham.”
They had just settled at a comfortable table for two in the atrium, a table tucked cozily into a plant-filled corner that offered some conversational privacy. Cecilia had barely had time to unwrap her sandwich. She set it down rather abruptly, not sure she could swallow just then. “What do you mean?”
“I know you had dinner with him after the reception Friday. A group of nursing students went to Melinda’s that evening and they saw the two of you together. It was all over the clinic the next da
y.”
Which explained how Eric had heard about it. It said something about Cecilia’s absorption with Geoff that evening that she hadn’t even seen the nursing students, though she’d recognized several other Melinda’s patrons. She gave Vanessa the same vague explanation she had offered her brother. “We were both hungry, so we decided to have dinner together.”
“And the movie last night?”
“You heard about that, too?”
“Honey, you delivered a baby in the movie theater, with Geoff Bingham’s assistance. Did you think I wouldn’t hear about it?”
Cecilia hadn’t been quite that deeply into denial. The ambulance personnel had recognized both her and Geoff, of course, and the young parents, who had been brought to this hospital, had certainly known the names of the couple who had delivered their child.
Cecilia had been fielding questions and congratulations about the delivery all day—even being called for comment by a reporter for the local newspaper, the Merlyn Mage. She had given few details to the reporter, claiming client confidentiality as a hasty excuse to keep herself out of the headlines, but she knew there would be an article about the movie theater “premiere.” Especially since Geoff Bingham had been involved.
“So…two dates with Geoff in one weekend. Sounds promising.”
“We aren’t dating, exactly.”
“Oh. What are you doing?”
Cecilia focused very hard on the soda can in front of her. “Just hanging out. He’s out of town so much he hardly knows anyone around here anymore. We enjoy each other’s company because there’s no real pressure. He’s not trying to raise money from me—because, of course, I have none to donate—and I get a chance to spend a few pleasant evenings with someone who’s only peripherally involved with the clinic, so there’s very little shop talk.”
Vanessa seemed downright disappointed by the practically of her friend’s explanation. “Sounds pleasant. What a shame.”
Cecilia smiled and shook her head, relieved that Vanessa’s curiosity seemed somewhat appeased, but knowing she was going to have a lot of explaining to do eventually.
“So what’s he like?”
“Geoff?” Cecilia picked up her sandwich again. “He’s very nice. Charming, actually. Eric described him as the family politician, which sums him up pretty well, I suppose.”
“So, you don’t see a chance of anything long-term developing between you?”
Other than parenthood, no. But Cecilia said merely, “If you’re talking about marriage, all I can say is be serious. We couldn’t be any more different. Besides, he’ll be taking off again in a few weeks— Boston and then London, I think he said—and I have a very busy life right here.”
Vanessa swallowed a bit of tuna salad sandwich, washing it down with a sip of bottled water. “Might as well take advantage of his company while he’s here. How often do you have a chance to spend time with a gorgeous, rich young stud?”
“Not very often—obviously.”
“So, how is it? In general, I mean.”
Cecilia felt a stupid grin spread across her face. “All in all—it’s great.”
Vanessa sighed dramatically. “Just as I suspected. Oh, well, we old married ladies just have to be content with fantasizing.”
“As if you’d rather have anyone other than George.”
At the mention of her pudgy, balding and incredibly sweet husband, Vanessa giggled. “True. But that doesn’t stop me from daydreaming about Denzel Washington occasionally. The occasional romantic fantasy never hurt any woman.”
Cecilia supposed that was true—as long as the woman never let herself get so carried away with the daydream that she lost sight of the difference between fantasy and reality.
She was relieved when Vanessa was suddenly distracted. “Look, there’s Detective Collins snooping around again. I hear he’s been asking an awful lot of questions about our security protocols for controlled substances.”
“The Orcadol epidemic again. He seems convinced he’s going to find some leads here.”
“I don’t know, something about the way he’s been skulking around here is starting to get my back up. Especially the way he watches Mari—as if he thinks she’s deliberately interfering with his investigation or something. Just because she’s too busy to be at his beck and call….”
A discussion about the drug crisis ensued, both Vanessa and Cecilia expressing concern about the toll it was taking on the young people in a community already burdened with poverty and illiteracy. By the time they had discussed several ideas for combating the problem through public awareness campaigns, they had finished their respective sandwiches and had to get back to work.
Determined to put thoughts of Geoff out of her mind—or at least, push them to the back of her thoughts—Cecilia headed for the examining rooms to visit with yet another expectant mother.
Geoff was having a bit of trouble concentrating on his work. He had no difficulty pinpointing the source of his distraction. The image of Cecilia Mendoza’s pretty smile was too clear in his mind to leave him in any doubt.
Remembering the state of exhaustion he’d been in when he’d finally left her house last night, he chuckled and shook his head. He wasn’t at all sure he would survive the next couple of weeks, but as the old saying went, at least he would go out with a smile on his face.
A disembodied voice came from a speaker on his rarely used desk. “Mr. Bingham, your father is on line two.”
He lifted the receiver to his ear. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
Ron Bingham’s voice was a rich baritone that suited his distinguished appearance. Still trim and fit at fifty-four, he had a full head of salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. Geoff had been told for as long as he could remember that he had inherited his father’s clear hazel eyes.
“I thought maybe you would like to have lunch today. Seems like you and I have hardly had a chance to see each other except in passing or in a crowd since you got into town.”
There was a restless tone in Ron’s voice that Geoff had been hearing more frequently lately. As Mari and Geoff became busier and more involved in their own lives, giving them less time to spend with their father, and as Ron passed over more of the responsibilities of running the family business to his offspring, Geoff wondered if Ron was feeling a bit at a loss.
Ron had always planned to retire with his beloved wife—leaving them free to travel and work in their spectacular gardens and continue their community activities. Violet’s untimely death had left her grieving widower to face a future alone, and he made sure to grumble at every opportunity about the lack of grandchildren to spoil in his spare time.
Geoff had no doubt that Ron would be delighted to welcome Geoff’s child into the family, especially once he recovered from the shock and skepticism. In fact, Geoff thought his father would be delighted with Cecilia as the grandchild’s mother if Ron had a chance to spend some time getting to know her.
Thinking it would have been nice if she could have joined them for lunch, Geoff said, “Sure, Dad. Lunch sounds good. I haven’t had a chance to look up all day and I could use the break.”
“Great. We can catch up. You can tell me when you found time to sneak into midwifery classes.”
“When I did what? Oh. You heard about the theater incident.”
“Yes. I heard you helped deliver a strapping baby boy. Nice job, son, but must you take business from our clinic?”
“Trust me, I’d have been delighted to send her to the clinic. But her baby apparently has a thing for action films. Kid’s probably going to be a stunt man or something.”
Ron laughed. “I can’t wait to hear all the details. Including how you ended up being at the theater with Eric Mendoza’s sister. I didn’t even know you two were acquainted.”
Geoff was already planning a carefully edited description of his friendship with Cecilia when he hung up the phone with a promise to meet his father in half an hour.
It was after 7:00 p.
m. by the time Cecilia climbed out of her car that evening. Geoff had some sort of meeting with investors that night, so they wouldn’t be seeing each other.
She should probably be looking forward to an evening alone to read and catch up on some chores around her house. She wasn’t usually the type to want to spend every evening doing something or seeing people. Usually, after a long day of dealing with people at the clinic, she was perfectly content to spend a few hours in peaceful solitude.
She had just unlocked her door when a commotion from next door made her pause. She could hear Brandy’s voice, shrilly raised in anger, and then the slamming of her neighbors’ back door.
Another fight between Brandy and her grandparents, Cecilia thought with a sigh. Probably about Marlin again. It was Brandy’s custom to sulk in her grandparents’ backyard after one of those confrontations. Sometimes Cecilia went out to talk to her, trying to calm her and help her see the older generation’s side of things.
Tonight she really just wanted to close herself into her own house and pretend she hadn’t heard anything. After all, she had her own problems to think about. Brandy would probably rather Cecilia mind her own business, anyway.
And then, hearing an angry sob coming from the neighbors’ backyard, Cecilia sighed. She would go inside and put up her purse, then see if there was anything she could do to help Brandy.
Poor Maxine, Cecilia thought as she stepped into her house. It had been difficult for the older woman to become a mother again after so many years. Especially since Brandy had been raised so haphazardly, resulting in a teenager who was bright and articulate but often rebellious and defiant.
She had just set her purse down when her telephone rang. Tempted to let the machine pick up, she decided instead to answer, just in case it was an important call. “Hello?”
“How was your day?”
Just the sound of Geoff’s deep voice made some of the tension seep from her muscles. She felt a smile replace the worried frown her neighbors’ problems had caused. “Long. Busy. But not bad. How was yours?”
