The Pregnancy Project

Angst was killing her. What had happened to her usual logic and reason? Poof. Add a baby and suddenly she was a mess.

She changed out of her plane suit and slipped on an unstructured sundress with spaghetti straps that she’d bought in anticipation of an expanding waistline. Wishful thinking, since she hadn’t confirmed her pregnancy until this morning.

None of this heated introspection would resolve the open issue—how to get back to normal. Harper worked best with absolutes and only Dante could give her those.

Get the data, formulate the problem and then solve it.

Her relationship with Dante was going to be the same today as it was yesterday, or she’d die trying to keep it that way. She refused to let either the baby or the kiss put a wedge between them, not when so many other things were out of her control. The FDA rejection being exhibit A.

Determined, she wandered through the open floor plan toward the kitchen in hopes of finding Dante and a cup of hot tea, and not necessarily in that order.

“Called it in one,” she murmured as she caught sight of his dark head bent over something.

She walked in and skirted the island. Dante glanced up.

His gaze softened behind his lenses, instantly turning his gorgeous eyes the color of melted chocolate. If he looked at other women like that, it was no wonder they were tripping over themselves to get to him.

Which was a totally uncomfortable thought, all at once. Did he look at other women like that, with that same blend of concern and affection? And why would she care? She didn’t. Dante was her friend and he could look at a woman any way he chose.

Except her. Definitely he could not look at her like that.

“I was just about to make a pot of tea,” he said as if nothing had changed.

Nothing had changed, she reminded herself sternly. He’d kissed her in some sort of misguided notion that there was something between them. She’d disabused him of that notion, and it was over. “That would be great.”

She cleared the squawk from her throat and wished the tension could be so easily dispelled.

Tea was one of their shared passions, one she cherished. When Dante came to Dallas, he always picked up a fresh bag of Gyokuro Imperial Green Tea—her favorite—from the Teavana shop at DFW airport and they drank it on the patio of her condo, which overlooked Victory Park. She loved their ritual more for the conversation and easiness than the tea, though it only took the barest whiff of the scent to make her mouth water.

He handed her a press pot and nodded to the loose-leaf tea in a container printed with Chinese symbols, which sat on the counter near his elbow. “I’ll boil the water if you scoop the tea.”

The familiar rhythm soothed her, and she moved around both the kitchen and the man with more ease than she would have expected. Maybe the weirdness was all on her. If she acted like everything was cool, it would be.

Tea made, they took their mugs onto the lanai that overlooked the lush pool and outdoor kitchen. Dante settled onto a cozy love seat and patted the next cushion, which she gratefully sank onto.

“Your house is beautiful,” she commented. “Why did it take me so long to visit?”

“A fair question.” He nodded once. “And the answer is?”

“Busy.” Her gaze drifted back to the landscape as she searched for the truth. “Fyra’s been a mess lately and Cass and Alex have had personal things going on. Leaves me and Trinity to hold the seams together.”

Regardless, Dante had always made time to come visit her. She’d written it off as a function of his insane travel schedule; of course it was easier for him to pop into Dallas. It was one of the major US airport hubs.

In that moment, with every nook and cranny of their relationship under a microscope, it felt…wrong. Unbalanced.

“Why did you come this time?” he asked quietly, and it was the opening she’d been looking for.

“I took my first pregnancy test this morning,” she admitted and forced herself to go on, no matter how uncomfortable the subject. Because regardless of what he’d said earlier, it still felt like an elephant in the room that they had to work through. “And then I took the next three.”

Surprisingly, he flashed a smile. “Because four gives you better odds of getting an accurate result.”

“You know me so well,” she joked automatically, but when his jaw tightened, she wished she hadn’t said it.

“I’m hoping to learn more,” he returned cryptically. “How did it feel? When you saw that it was positive?”

So many things had flooded her chest in that instant. How did she catalogue them for someone else—and a man at that? “The clearest sense of awe. Glee. Accomplishment.”

She’d picked the right donor, clearly, since the procedure had worked the first time. Of course she had. She’d done extensive research into genetics, legalities, odds—and Dr. Tomas Cardoza had been the obvious choice. Tomas had two doctorates, impressive Spanish ancestry and dark skin that would hopefully guarantee her child wouldn’t have to slather on as much sunscreen as its Irish mother. He’d agreed to be her donor, including signing away any paternal rights, and that was that.

Somehow, she didn’t think Dante would appreciate those details.

“I hate this.” She set her mug down and swiveled to face him, one leg bent underneath her. “I feel like I’m walking on eggshells, like I have to watch what I say or it’ll start another fight.”

He cocked his head. “Another fight? We’re not fighting. Are we?”

“Well…yeah. Earlier. When I told you I was pregnant. That was a fight.” Wasn’t it? He’d been so angry and disappointed in her.

“It was a conversation,” he corrected and set his own mug down in favor of taking her hand, holding it tight as he caught her gaze. “About something going on in your life. I didn’t handle it well. You surprised me, that’s all. But I care about you and want to know everything. It’s not okay that you think you have to hold one single thing back.”

Warmth spread across her palm, feathering outward. She stared at Dante and all at once, he morphed back into the man she’d loved for ten years. And then the warmth climbed into her chest as he smiled at her. It was so normal—and such a relief—she nearly wept.

Except she was changing things. That was really her biggest fear, that she’d irrevocably damaged their relationship by getting pregnant. She and Dante told each other chemistry jokes and talked about quantum mechanics, not diapers and breastfeeding.

She centered herself with a string of biofeedback techniques. Everything was going to be okay.

“Then I want to start over. Dante, I’m pregnant.”

His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise, bless him. “That’s fantastic news. Congratulations. I can’t wait to meet the little version of you swimming around in there.”

And that, against all odds, made the whole thing real.

She had a life growing in her womb. A baby. One that would be hers and hers alone, who would be a brilliant addition to the world of science from an early age. She would raise him or her with all the best educational opportunities and be this baby’s everything, since she’d be a single parent.

That was when the panic started.

It was a baby. A helpless tiny thing who couldn’t communicate its needs. She’d have to figure it out. By herself. The flutter behind her breastbone grew nearly audible. And then she realized that was the sound of her heightened pulse thundering in her ears.

Breathe. And again. She’d wanted it this way. Love between mother and child was absolute. Preordained. There was no potential for error, like there was when romance entered the picture, confusing everything with signals her brain couldn’t interpret. Thus, this baby would fill a need in her life that no man could ever hope to. She’d never be lonely again, yearning for something she couldn’t quite put a name to.

Plus, it would solidify her place among her business partners who valued the institution of motherhood. Or at least Alex and Cass did. Trinity had and always would march to the beat of her own drum, but regardless, she and Harper had long agreed about the value of a permanent man in their lives—zero.

Except this one. She squeezed Dante’s hand and swallowed. “I’m scared.”

“What? Why?” Clearly puzzled, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smoothed it back, exactly as she’d envisioned he would when she admitted her fears. “You’re the most capable woman I’ve ever met. You’ve got this, hands down.”

“There’s some…other stuff going on. Fyra is in trouble.”

“What’s going on?” he asked softly. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”

The thick bands around her chest loosened. She’d come to LA precisely because Dante was the one person in her life she could turn to. If she could just talk about it, maybe a plan would come to her, some way to haul herself out of the professional hole she’d fallen into. Then the pregnancy decision wouldn’t seem so…ill-timed.

“Something happened with Fyra’s FDA approval for Formula-47,” she blurted out. A sudden burning behind her eyes mortified her. She never cried. Was this how it was going to be then? Emotions out the wazoo around the clock?

“What? Tell me,” he demanded instantly.

Formula-47 had been her first baby, conceived and crafted in her lab with one sole purpose—to heal scars and wrinkles better than plastic surgery because it used revolutionary nanotechnology that she’d developed. It was brilliant. And it might never see the light of day.

No. She would fix it.

She took a deep breath. “Phillip—Senator Edgewood—you know how I told you he was helping us grease the FDA wheels in Washington?”

“Sure, because you’re releasing your first product that requires FDA approval. I remember.”

“The committee suspended the request.”

It was nearly the worst moment of her life to hear those words come out of Phillip’s mouth. The process should have been easy. Submit an application for approval for Formula-47, which she’d poured two years of her life into perfecting, give the committee a tour of the lab, explain her formulary methodology, send samples and research. Done. Approval to sell the formula as a product would be in the bag.

Nothing had gone according to plan.

“What?” Dante’s expression mirrored the righteous indignation of his tone. “Why would they suspend the request?”

“They had questions about my samples. And my lab.”

The expletive Dante muttered made her smile.

“Your methods are beyond reproach,” he groused. “How dare they question anything about your lab.”

She couldn’t help but revel in his unconditional support, which was precisely what she’d come for. None of her partners really understood what the allegations had meant to her professionally. Personally.

Dante got it. Understood instantly why the whole thing felt like someone had driven a railroad spike through her gut.

“There’s more. I think the questions cropped up because someone deliberately sabotaged the samples.” Even uttering that heinous suspicion aloud nearly caused her stomach to revolt.

Because that was the bottom line. She had a traitor in her lab. Her lab. Her sanctuary.

Until she got that sorted out, she was afraid she’d never fully embrace or enjoy the next nine months.

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