Sweet, Sweet Jewel : An AMBW Romance (Sweet Treats Book 4)

by Nia Arthurs

  “Could you just wait over there, ma’am?” A nurse in a white uniform that beautifully contrasted her dark skin pointed to a row of black chairs.

  We all trudged over and took a seat.

  Memories of another waiting room washed over me. This was a different hospital, but everything felt the same—from the clean smell in the air to the urgent strut of the nurses to the muted sounds of conversation.

  Lost in my thoughts, the seconds flew quickly.

  I didn’t even know what time it was until Mr. Franklin checked his watch with a wiry frown and said, “Where’s the doctor? You signed in ten minutes ago.”

  “It’s okay.” I breathed in deeply. “The pain’s not so bad now. I can wait a bit longer.”

  “We’ll stay as long as it takes,” he said, patting my hand in a fatherly gesture.

  “Don’t you have that meeting…?” Amanda mumbled under her breath.

  “Right.” He shot me a sheepish look.

  “Go.” I waved them away. “You too, Amanda. I can handle it from here.”

  “I don’t want to leave you by yourself.” Amanda blinked thick eyelashes and pouted.

  Being alone and away from her exaggerated looks of pity would only help me. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call my dad if anything.” I pointed my chin to the door. “You’ve both got work to do. Don’t worry about me.”

  Amanda reached over and gave me a hug while Mr. Franklin nodded. I patted her bony arm and offered a strained smile to let them know I’d survive.

  “We’ll take a taxi back,” Mr. Franklin said, handing over my keys.

  They left.

  The pain started again.

  My face mottled and I folded in half, digging my fingernails into the black cushions. What was wrong with me?

  Straining to a sitting position, I raised an arm. “Excuse me. Nurse? When can I see the doctor? My cramps are getting worse.”

  She took one look at my face and gripped my arm. “Just a few more minutes, ma’am. They’re both in sessions at the moment.” She put her fingers to my wrist and checked my pulse. Her expression gave nothing away, but I could feel her anxiety when she muttered, “Hold on, okay?”

  I took her advice, clinging to consciousness. It felt like someone had poured molten lava inside me, but the last thing I wanted to do was pass out on these germy floors.

  The same nurse appeared again seconds later, a determined expression on her face. “Doctor Kelly can see you now.”

  I almost bawled in relief and shuffled behind the nurse to one of the doors on the right. She ushered me inside and the subtle fragrance of cologne hit my nose.

  That was my first hint.

  The massive hunk sitting in the chair behind the desk was my second.

  I glanced around. “Where’s the doctor?”

  “This is Doctor Shawn Kelly.” The nurse-turned-royal-herald gestured with her hands, a smile curving her lips. “Don’t be nervous. He’s a very skilled gynecologist with years of experience.”

  Through the haze of pain and confusion, I surveyed the doctor wondering how many ‘years’ the nurse was referring to.

  Doctor Kelly was young. Blonde. Blue eyed. He looked tall, even though he was sitting in a chair behind a small desk. His shoulders were broad and his chest massive. He reminded me of a hockey player on vacation in the Caribbean.

  This was the gyno?

  “No thank you.” I trembled and wrapped an arm over my stomach to keep myself steady.

  It was a struggle to be polite when I really wanted to scream, “Hell no! It’s awkward enough when a woman peers into my lady bits. You expect me to open my legs for some strange man I’ve never met?”

  Technically, in another context and setting, I’d be down for that. But not today.

  The nurse frowned. “If you’d like to wait for Doctor Pamela, it’ll take a while. She’s doing an emergency C-section.”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. This pain was excruciating, but even that couldn’t change my mind. It was a solid no for the male gyno.

  “I’ll have to wait.”

  “Ms…” Hunky Doctor bent his head and checked a clipboard that I was guessing had my information sheet, “Robinson. It looks like you’re in a lot of discomfort. Are you sure you want to prolong the pain?”

  “No offense.” I don’t care if you’re offended or not. “But I’m not letting you down there. I’ll wait for the female doctor or I’m going to another hospital.” I stared him straight in the eyes, daring him to try and argue with me.

  Letting a man undress me, feel up my privates and then send me home with a massive bill was unpalatable, awkward and off-putting.

  Medical degree or no, he was still a dude who should have zero access to my nethers. I’d rather pass out from the pain.

  His lips twitched as if he could read my thoughts, but apart from that, he didn’t seem to have a reaction to my borderline-insulting speech.

  The nurse didn’t bother to hide her disappointment though. I could feel her laser eyes glaring into me.

  Fronting through the pain, I turned on my heels and strode for the door only to freeze when the hunk in the lab coat bounded over his desk and jumped in front of me, barring my way.

  “What the hell?” I croaked out. Was this doctor insane?

  “Ms. Robinson!” The nurse gasped and pointed urgently.

  I followed the direction of her gaze and spotted a small circle of blood on the floor where I’d been standing a moment ago. Thick red drops, like a horror-movie twist on Hanzel’s breadcrumbs, followed me.

  Splat. One fell in real time, shooting out of my skirt like a squirt gun was stuck up there.

  Terror spiking my pulse, I slowly inched my skirt up and glanced at the side of my thigh. Streams of blood lined my brown skin and soaked my panties like Carrie: Vulva Edition.

  I flung my gaze to Doctor Kelly, my eyes wide and frantic. “Do something. Do something now.”

  Chapter 2

  Doctor Kelly did more than ‘something’. He did many things, including sending me for an ultrasound, a blood test and a physical.

  It took far too long to complete all the tests, but he’d consoled me with pain relieving medicine. The Saws III reunion in my stomach went on intermission so I hadn’t complained.

  Yet.

  After the last test, the nurse wheeled me to a room in the maternity department.

  My first clue.

  Then Doctor Kelly walked in with my results and a flat expression.

  My second.

  “Is everything good, Doc?”

  He cleared his throat and shifted.

  Third clue.

  I was really slow on the uptake today.

  “What’s wrong? Is it serious? Do I have… is it cancer?” My voice was a low, horrified whisper.

  “No.”

  I sighed in relief.

  “You’re having a miscarriage.”

  Every bone in my body stiffened. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “It’s a miscarriage.” There was no levity on the doctor’s face, but I wanted to laugh anyway.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, I’m not, ma’am.”

  I poked a finger in my ear and twisted it around to make sure I’d heard clearly. “There’s no way I had a miscarriage.”

  He tilted his head as if to say ‘and where are your medical degrees?’

  I ignored the look and insisted, “I’d have to be pregnant first and I’m not pregnant. You have no idea how careful I am about protection. I’m not ready for kids. I might never be ready. And now you’re telling me I had a kid and lost it?”

  “Ms. Robinson—”

  “Portia!” I slammed my head back into the pillows cushioning the hospital cot and squeezed my eyes shut. “Please, just call me Portia. Ms. Robinson was my mother.”

  I felt the doctor’s unease as he said my name, “Portia, I’m only sharing the results of your examinations. According to the scans, most of the pregnancy tissue have passed, but th
ere are still some left inside the uterus.”

  It felt like he was talking another language. A woman couldn’t be pregnant and not know. How was that even possible?

  “No, you’re wrong.”

  I heard him sigh and then the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor chased it. His voice was soft when he spoke. “Portia, I know this is hard for you. Is there anyone we can call? Maybe a loved one or the father…?”

  The father?

  I scoffed angrily, more annoyed with myself than with him. “The father was a one-night stand. We didn’t exchange numbers.”

  At the time, it had seemed like a good idea to act on my lusts, go with the flow and have a night of hot, unbridled debauchery.

  Bar Guy was a drunken mistake. One I had no plans of repeating. Nothing like waking up naked next to a man you don’t know to reassess life’s priorities.

  The sex was great though.

  “Oh.” Doctor Kelly nodded.

  There was no judgment in the word and yet I instantly went on the defensive.

  “I don’t normally do that. Sleep with men I don’t know, I mean. We were at my best friend, Imani’s, bachelorette party in San Pedro. There were these guys that kept sending us drinks and one of them was super hot and we just had this vibe, you know?” My voice climbed. “I swear, I didn’t think things would get this complicated.”

  “Portia, hey.” Doctor Kelly bobbed his head, emoting understanding through his clear blue eyes while still managing to remain professional. “It’s okay. No one’s blaming you.”

  “I know. I just wanted to clarify.” I felt small and eased lower in the bed so I could hide my body beneath the sheets.

  “Is there anyone else you’d like to call?”

  My dad flitted to mind but I rejected the thought. He’d only worry when he found out I’d gotten pregnant. I didn’t even want to imagine his disappointment when he heard about the Bar Guy who’d impregnated me.

  Maybe later. I’d deal with him later.

  I could call Imani, but she’d be at work. Apart from my girl, there wasn’t anyone I’d want by my side right now.

  “No. I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I can take care of myself. Please continue.”

  He studied my face for a long tense moment. I wondered what he was thinking.

  Here I was. A five-foot-six black girl. Curly hair. Scrawny arms. Thick thighs. Brown eyes ringed with guilt.

  Pathetic.

  Those stormy blue orbs of his made me squirm. Maybe he thought this was karma. Punishment for hooking up with someone on a steamy tropical island and not worrying about the consequences.

  Maybe I was being way too critical.

  I’d give a hundred bucks to crawl into Doctor Shawn Kelly’s mind.

  But something told me the man was a steel trap.

  He finally glanced at his files, breaking the stare-down. “Miscarriages are very common in the first few weeks of pregnancy. The exact rage is unknown as some women, like yourself, have miscarriages without ever realizing they were pregnant.”

  “How”—I clear my throat—“how far along was I?”

  “Six weeks.”

  I inhaled swiftly, rejecting the information.

  Doctor Kelly waited patiently and then explained, “That’s right around the time that most women would realize they were pregnant. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  “I really had no idea.”

  “You were in pain and bleeding heavily because you were so far along during the miscarriage. The cervix was dilating and releasing fluids.”

  “Are you saying I passed the… baby?”

  “Most of it. Like I said earlier, there’s still some tissue left. You can choose to complete the miscarriage naturally at home, which I recommend, or we can arrange an aspiration procedure—”

  “Natural. I want natural. No needles.”

  “There are no needles in aspiration. Only a small tube inserted into the uterus. The tissue is removed through suction.”

  “I’m good.”

  He scribbled something down. “I’ll recommend a prescription for the pain.” Turning his wrist over, he checked his watch. “I’d guess that the rest of the tissue will be released sometime between tonight or tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He stood.

  I eased up. “Doctor Kelly.”

  He arched an eyebrow.

  I licked my lips and played restlessly with my fingers. “I apologize. For earlier. I didn’t mean to question your abilities or your professionalism.”

  Doctor Kelly smiled.

  My heart tripped over itself, overwhelmed by the magnificence of his face when he loosened up. It was like the sun emerging from a cloud.

  “It’s okay. I understand that it’s uncomfortable to talk to a man about these sensitive issues.”

  “It wasn’t personal. I, honestly, get uncomfortable when it’s a woman doing the tests.”

  “Do you want to know a secret?”

  I shrugged, my mind jumbling up from the force of his perfect smile. The man might as well quit his day-job and go model for Colgate.

  Geez.

  “It’s just as awkward for me as it is for you ladies,” Doctor Kelly said.

  “Yeah?” My eyebrows scrunched.

  He slipped one hand into his coat pocket. “You’re going to be alright, Portia.”

  My heart bu-dumped.

  I slapped my chest and glanced away from him. Down, Portia. Today, I’d learned I was pregnant and lost the baby all in one brutal blow.

  Sure I was still on the fence about having kids, but that was had nothing to do with the fact that I’d almost given birth to one.

  I had bigger fish to fry. There would be no heart-eyes at my hot gynecologist.

  None.

  Chapter 3

  Shawn

  “How’d she take it?” Tawny sidled toward me, her brown eyes expectant, her plump lips pursed.

  “Who?”

  “Portia Robinson?”

  I pictured the attractive woman lying in the hospital bed waiting to be discharged. “Well enough. I don’t think it’s sunken in yet.”

  “Poor thing. She didn’t even know about the baby. Is the father coming?”

  “No.”

  “Why? He stuck at work?”

  I just grunted and finished filling out the form, handing it off to the admin desk. Discussing patient case details was not a habit of mine and I didn’t plan on starting now that I was in Belize.

  Gossip was commonplace in every environment but especially in a private hospital like the Belize Medical Center. I’d never encountered a grapevine more efficient than this one.

  If they ever found out what happened back home…

  But they wouldn’t.

  The only person who knew my secret was the director and she’d assured me that my past would remain under lock and key for the duration of my tenure here.

  I didn’t plan on betraying her trust in any way.

  “Can you explain what Ms.”—I remembered the patient’s husky plea to call her by her first name—“Portia should look for in the next few days?” I strode down the hallway. “Assure her that a little spotting might occur. She might be concerned.”

  Tawny followed me. “Ay, Doctor Kelly. You know I’ll take care of things.”

  “Please be gentle. She’s very overwhelmed.”

  “Of course.”

  “I set up another appointment in the next two weeks, but she should come in if there’s any emergency—”

  “Doctor Kelly!” A thick woman with long brown hair and a red mouth with more volume than a megaphone slipped into my path. She wore a huge pearl necklace and a tight-fitting blue jumpsuit that hugged her beach-ball stomach.

  I stepped back and sighed. “Mrs. Jones.”

  “How many times have I told you to call me Leslie?” she purred, batting thick black eyelashes.

  I gritted my teeth.
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  “I was here for another appointment but thought I’d come and check on you.”

  “I’m fine and I’m also very busy,” I said coldly. Mrs. Jones was the type who barreled right over subtleties.

  If only she’d get offended and leave me alone.

  “Of course. Of course. Handsome young doctor like yourself must never have a chance to slow down.”

  I frowned.

  She returned that with a smile. “If you ever need a break, Doctor, I’m willing to help you out.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Jones. Have a nice day.” I quickened my step, putting as much distance between us as possible.

  When I heard a snicker, I wrenched my gaze down and saw Tawny covering her mouth with a hand and muffling her laughter.

  I scowled. “Something funny?”

  “Isn’t that woman married?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yet she’s chasing you?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. She’s overly friendly maybe…”

  “I’ve been working in hospitals for thirty years and I’ve never seen a doctor cause so much polarity. Some clients hate you just because you’re a man and some love you for it.”

  “I’m glad you had a nice laugh at my expense.”

  “Oh, loosen up, Doc.” Tawny swiped at her leaking eyes. “I’m just kidding.”

  “I didn’t complain.”

  “But you didn’t laugh either.” Tawny straightened her collar. “I get that you need to bat away the clingy patients, but we’re all family here. You’ve been at BMC for a year and you’ve already proven that you’re skilled. Live a little.”

  I was grateful that everyone acknowledged my experience in this field, but I hadn’t come to Belize to make friends.

  Male OB/GYNs had to be twice as professional to make up for the fact that they were a different gender. Even blinking wrong could be misconstrued as flirting.

  I’d coached myself to wear the same, inane expression with every patient and every nurse so that they never had cause to doubt my intentions.

  I’d maintained a perfect veneer.

  Until Portia.

  I felt for her.

  Deeply.

  It wasn’t my first time diagnosing a miscarriage, but I’d never seen a look of such complete shock and such obvious self-bashing before.