The Pregnancy Promise

She finished her tea and went to bed. Tomorrow would provide new opportunities.

Saturday Lianne spent thoroughly cleaning her apartment. Not that it was messy, mostly dusty and needing some freshening. She wasn’t home enough to clutter up things. Once done, she changed into clean jeans and a pink top and headed for her sister’s. They had planning to do.

Annalise and Dominic had a luxury apartment near Dupont Circle, a neighborhood in Washington for young professionals, with outdoor cafés and a wide variety of ethnic restaurants. The shops were upscale and unique, a pleasure to browse through. Parking was a problem, so Lianne took a cab. Just as she arrived, it began to rain. So much for planning a quick walk and coffee at one of the cafés, she thought.

When Lianne reached her sister’s apartment, Annalise was waiting. She threw open the door and reached out to hug her. “Come in. Dominic’s away for a few days, so it’s just us. Isn’t the weather a bummer. I thought we could take a walk and talk.”

“My thoughts exactly.” They grinned at each other. They’d shared that bond all their lives.

“I can order in. A caramel macchiato for you, right?” Annalise asked.

“And you’ll have the double cap,” Lianne said, taking off her jacket. “Where is Dominic off to this time?”

“Brussels. There’s some big NATO event going and they’re using super computers and he’s needed to make sure they run with no glitches.”

“And you didn’t want to go?” Lianne asked.

“Not this time. I’ve a big deal about to close. I want to be here for that.”

Annalise was in real estate, selling homes in an area of Washington that catered to embassy personnel and members of Congress.

“Let me order the coffees and then you and I need to discuss this situation. I can’t believe we didn’t know this would become a crisis. Surely something else can be done to help you,” Annalise said.

Lianne filled her in on all the doctor had to say. “There’s no guarantee I can even get pregnant. But if I want a chance at a baby of my own, I need to at least try,” she ended.

“Did the doctor give you a time limit?” Annalise asked.

“No, but each month the pain gets worse. It must be getting worse, this month is the first time I have missed work.”

“Maybe you didn’t tell me the full extent of everything.”

Lianne shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I guess it’s just a matter of how long I can hold out. Dr. Wright wanted to schedule the op at my last visit.”

“Hold on a little longer. Let me tell you about this friend of mine in the office. He’s about our age and never been married. So no ex-wife to bore you with.”

“Do you think he’s interested in marriage and kids?”

“With the right woman, of course.”

Lianne didn’t take her sister’s assertion to heart. But what did she have to lose? If he turned out to be the man of her heart, she’d be forever grateful.

“So tell me more about him,” Lianne said.

Tray threw his pencil on the desk and rose, pacing around the office. He couldn’t concentrate. The normal appeal of the job was missing. Saturdays usually allowed him to catch up. He was too distracted to concentrate. This was going on too long. He wasn’t sleeping well and knew he had to get beyond the grief he held for a baby he’d never known. He went to the window. The rain slanted down, blurring his view. It looked cold. As cold as he felt every time he thought about Suzanne and her unconscionable act.

Comparing her with Lianne came naturally these days. One woman casually and callously ended a baby’s life before it even had a chance. The other was doing all she could to be able to have a baby that she’d cherish all its life. Why hadn’t fate denied Suzanne a pregnancy and granted an easy time for his analyst?

Talking with Lianne at the shore had reaffirmed his faith in women. His analyst wanted a baby desperately. He’d heard all his life how his mother had so longed for a child she’d risked her own life, and lost. Those were the kind of women that kept the species going. He wished he could do something for Lianne. He was in the business of providing solutions, why couldn’t he find one for her?

He turned and looked at the stack of folders on his desk. Maps lined one wall, on sliding bars to move in and out of the forefront. He’d built up a good security business over the last eight years. The need continued unabated and the company was growing to meet demand.

But Suzanne’s heinous act had knocked him off his original course. He’d thought he’d find a woman to admire, respect and want to build a life with. She’d provide him with children who could inherit the business, make his uncle a grandfather. Someone to spend holidays with, share celebrations and downturns.

He wanted to offer more for any children he may have than he’d been given. Not that his uncle didn’t do his best. Part of the reason Tray pushed so hard to make a success was for a future generation.

That had ended before it even had a chance. Anger at Suzanne flared all over again. How could she have had an abortion just to keep from stretch marks and morning sickness? They’d used protection every time. Only something had happened. There could have been choices, except she’d had the abortion before telling him she was pregnant.

He’d spent as much time and anguish over her as he wanted. She was out of his life. He hadn’t dated anyone in the last ten months. He’d been gifted with keen insight in security measures. Why hadn’t that extended to Suzanne and her intentions? He fisted his hand again, wanting to hit out, assuage the thirst for revenge. There was nothing he could do to change the past, only mourn the outcome.

He only wished the grief at the loss of the baby would fade as quickly as the feelings he once thought he had for Suzanne had vanished. Life was unfair, as his uncle often said. Lianne longed for a baby. He should have slept with her if there was to be a mistake, not coldhearted Suzanne.

The phone rang. Glad for the distraction, Tray answered on the second ring.

“Mark here. I made a hash of things,” his friend said.

Tray leaned against the desk. “What are you talking about?” He had a good idea, but didn’t want his friend to know his part of connecting him with Lianne, or that he’d already spoken with Lianne.

“I took Lianne out to dinner the other night and spent the entire time talking about Wendy. How dumb can one man be?”

Tray thought about his own connection with Suzanne and how he’d misjudged her.

“Join the club. It’s a man thing—act dumb around women.”

Mark sighed. “Think so?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I took her home. She smiled all night long but never gave any indication she wanted a kiss or anything. So I thought I’d play it cool. Then I called her last night and only got her answering machine. I’ve called twice today. She never answers. Guess I need to take the hint, huh?”

“Give her a day or two and try again. If she doesn’t take that call, then give up,” Tray suggested. He knew Lianne didn’t want more dates with Mark, but he hated his friend sounding so down.

“Maybe. Or maybe I need to get my act together first and get over Wendy. I thought I was ready, obviously not.”

The two talked for a short time. When he was off the phone later, Tray considered himself lucky he’d been able to get over Suzanne. He hoped he never became so caught up with another person he couldn’t function any better than Mark if the relationship ended.

He picked up a folder and rose. He’d stop by Lianne’s desk to see if she were in. She often worked on Saturdays. He shook his head, what was he doing—he didn’t need to see her today. Monday would be time enough. Only he continued heading toward her office.

Lianne wasn’t at her desk.

He was about to leave when he saw a piece of paper on the floor near her printer. Unlike Lianne to have anything out of place. He crossed and picked it up to place on her desk. Glancing at it Tray was startled to find it was a checklist of some kind—for a father for her baby.

He put down his folder, nudged her door closed and sat behind her desk, his eyes taking in the list of attributes she wanted in the father of her baby.

Athletic (no sedentary lifestyle)

Knowledgeable about many things (to better teach our child)

Interested in childhood events (school plays, field trips, prom)

Strong interest in education (college!)

Interest in finer things (Art galleries, Smithsonian, Kennedy Center)

Sense of family (there until adult at least)

Tray read all the items on the list; some were a puzzle to him, but most were clear. Lianne was listing criteria for the father of her baby. Tray gave a sardonic chuckle. How many men would relish being judged on criteria listed instead of on themselves or a spark of attraction between them?

Curious, he began to jot notes beside each. He spent time behind his desk, but he didn’t consider his life sedentary. He worked out at the gym, liked to ski in winter, sail in summer. And being out in the field kept a man busy providing the needed protection his clients demanded.

It was after seven by the time he finished. An exercise in getting into Lianne’s mind, he thought as he balled up the paper and tossed it into the trash. He thought he knew how she thought from their working together. But her list surprised him. Not the fact she had a list; as long as he’d known her, she was always jotting down lists. But the various aspects she considered important were the surprise.

Nowhere did he see anything that applied to a lover or mate for her. Was she so caught up in a baby, she discounted herself?

He took his folder and left. The offices were silent. Everyone working today had left except the night crew manning the monitors. He passed that large room, glanced in through the glass walls and noted people competently carrying out their assigned tasks. He knew everyone there, but only in a business sense.

The same way he knew Lianne. But the glimpse into her personal life intrigued him. Especially after thinking about her criteria. Why wasn’t she looking for something for herself? Or maybe there was a page two and he hadn’t seen. The thought almost had him turning around to try to get into her computer to search. But that would be an invasion of privacy, and Tray had a strong sense of right and wrong. It bumped the limits reading the paper from the floor. He would never deliberately go into her files without her permission.

But it didn’t stop him from speculating what she’d want in a lover.

He had never thought about her in that light. For a moment he could picture her cheeks flushed with passion, her eyes sparkling and her smile seductive. It wouldn’t take much imagination to see her on a bed, with that glossy brown hair spread out around her and her lips parted in temptation.

Sunday morning Lianne slept in—at least for her. She rose at eight and took a quick shower. The day loomed endlessly. Last night’s date had been another bust. Maybe there was a reason for her not being part of a couple—she was too picky. But she couldn’t help it. She wanted the best man possible to father her baby. Was it her fault she couldn’t find one? Mark hadn’t appealed to her on a basic level. Not to mention he was still hung up on his ex-wife.

Peter from Annalise’s office sounded too immature himself to be considered as a father. For some men having children caused them to grow up. In this case, Lianne suspected she would find rivalry between Peter and a baby. Not her ideal situation.

And somewhere she had to add sex appeal. So far the thought of kissing any of the men hadn’t held any appeal. How could she get naked with them?

After a hasty breakfast, she put on warm wool slacks and a sweater. She’d run by the office for a little while and make sure she had all the latest data for the head of that African country’s visit next month. Not a big player in world politics, nonetheless she wanted to make sure his visit to the nation’s capital went without a hitch. And one never knew where fanatics lurked.

Entering the office a short time later, she went right to work. It was almost noon by the time she was ready to take a break. Maybe she’d get a sandwich at the deli up the street and study some of the men there. She felt as if she was becoming skewed in her thinking. Now everything revolved around men, men, men.

Glancing around as she rose, she noticed a ball of paper in her otherwise empty wastepaper basket. She never did that. Curious, she pulled it out and smoothed it open. It was one of her lists—filled out! She recognized Tray’s handwriting.

For a moment she was mortified he’d found her list. What had he thought? Then she began to read it. He had actually jotted brief notes by each of her traits. For a moment she felt disoriented. Dare she consider Tray as a possible father for her baby?

He’d meet all the attributes. Even without his notes on the sides she knew that. He was educated and valued it highly—witness the education matching funds he provided employees and the internships he gave promising college students each summer.

He had a wide variety of interests, which made him fit in with every single person he protected, be they heads of states or prominent businessmen.

She knew he had a subscription to the symphony and ballet, as he often gave away tickets when business intruded.

She looked out the window, hearing her sister’s voice echo—you’re too involved with Tray. She wasn’t, not in that sense. They worked together—closely. But it was strictly business.

Not that she’d have a problem picturing them kissing. Or doing more.

She banged her head against the glass. She’d never thought of her boss in that way—but only because it would prove too dangerous. She’d felt a pull of attraction at their first meeting. Getting started in her career had been too important to her to fantasize about a personal relationship. Over the years she’d become used to hearing snippets about his women friends from others. She couldn’t compete. And she didn’t want to. She loved her job, relished being considered a colleague, having her opinion sought and listened to. She especially liked the nights when they worked late—sharing dinner, solving impossible scenarios.

She wasn’t some empty airhead who thought looks more important that brains. Those were the kind of women he liked to take out.

But there was a hint of pleasure in remembering he’d called her pretty at the cottage.

She folded the paper and stuffed it into her pocket. Grabbing her purse and jacket, she left the office. She was not going to get ideas about her boss. He was so far off-limits she should not even think of him and a baby in the same frame.

Yet every other man she’d seen recently paled in comparison. Was that the problem—Tray set the standard the others failed to meet?

Lianne spent the rest of Sunday wishing she had not gone into the office. She had thrown away the paper and fished it out of the trash twice. Finally she stuffed it in the bottom drawer in her dresser beneath a stack of sweaters. But out of sight did not mean out of mind. Was he interested?

If so he was too direct not to say something.

At least she believed so.

“Oh, God, what if he did say something?” she exclaimed, horrified and thrilled by the idea.

She started to call her sister, but decided against it. Getting into her car just before dark to head to the beach was her way of coping. She reached the cottage long after nightfall. The sound of the waves soothed her as she turned into the driveway and stopped by the dark house.

If nothing else, the rest of the night would be spent putting Tray out of her mind and trying to figure out a way to find the perfect father for her baby.

Monday morning Lianne arrived at work confident she could handle anything Tray threw her way. She turned on her computer. Jenny came to the doorway.

“Lianne, something’s wrong with Tray,” she said, looking half frightened.

“What do you mean?” She couldn’t imagine anything going wrong for the man.

“I took him the printout he’d requested at the end of work on Friday. Instead of telling me he expected it days ago, he didn’t open the door to his office but told me to go away. He’s never told me to go away.”

“Where’s Emily?” Lianne asked of Tray’s secretary.

“She wasn’t at her desk.”

Lianne rose. She’d never heard of such a thing. “Give me the printout, I’ll see he gets it,” she said. In only seconds she was outside Tray’s office. Sure enough Emily was not at her desk. What was going on?

She knocked. “Tray, I have the Sanderson’s printout.”

“Go away,” he replied.

She blinked. Opening the door, she stuck her head in, peering around to see him standing by the window, one arm raised and leaning against the casing.

He heard her and turned, glaring at her.

“I don’t want to be disturbed.”

Instead Lianne stepped inside and closed the door. She crossed to the desk and laid the printout on the messy surface. “There’s definitely something wrong. What it is?”

He frowned at her for a long moment, then the look turned to one of pain. Lianne’s eyes widened slightly. She’d never seen Tray like this.

“My uncle died unexpectedly this morning. I just learned of it.” He turned and faced out the window. “We spoke on the phone just a few days ago. Nothing was wrong. At least nothing he told me. God, the man was only fifty-nine. Too young to die.”

CHAPTER THREE

“I’M SO sorry,” she said, not knowing what to do. The words sounded so inadequate. She was stunned. She never expected anything to throw Traynor Elliott a curve. “You two were close?”

“He raised me.”

“Oh.” The image of her father rose. She’d be devastated if anything happened to him. Instinctively she went to Tray and leaned against his arm. She couldn’t put hers around him; they weren’t that close. But she could stand beside him and let him know she was there.

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