The Baby Bonanza

Catching Betsy’s eye, Zora said, “These mean more than I can say.”

“I’m glad.” Wedged among the other guests, the older woman added, “If you need anything, please call me.”

“You’re a sweetheart.” But Zora wouldn’t ask for the other woman’s help, not until after the babies were born and she revealed the truth to Andrew. When she did, she hoped Betsy wouldn’t resent having been kept in the dark.

Her gaze drifted to the diamond-and-emerald ring on her ex-mother-in-law’s right hand. Zora had worn the family heirloom during her marriage, treasuring both its beauty and its significance. After the divorce, she’d returned it, with regret. Neither of Andrew’s other wives had worn it; there’d been a special bond between Betsy and Zora that had begun in her high school days.

Now, its glitter reminded Zora of how much she’d lost. Not only her husband, but a woman who’d been as close to her as family. Well, perhaps someday she and Betsy could be close again.

She hoped her children would meet her twin sister, too. That depended on whether Zora was ever secure enough to handle Zady’s inevitable gloating at her downfall. For now, distance was best. Nobody could inflict as much pain as the people nearest your heart.

After the last guest departed, the adrenaline that had powered Zora all afternoon faded. She collapsed on the living room couch while, inside her, the babies tussled.

What a blessing it would be when they were born and her body returned to normal. And what a joy to hold them and see their sweet faces.

At this point, Lucky should have arrived to offer her refreshments. She missed his coddling, even though it was often seasoned with criticism.

Instead, he bustled about collecting trash as if she weren’t there. From the kitchen, Zora heard Karen opening and closing the fridge to put away food, while in the den, Rod ran the vacuum cleaner. Zora would have pitched in if she’d had the energy.

As Lucky removed the white linen covers from the folding chairs, his dark eyebrows drew together like storm clouds. The dragon protruding from beneath one sleeve appeared to be lashing its tail.

Zora broke the silence. “Won’t you tell me what happened?”

He tossed a cover onto a pile of laundry. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been upset since you talked to Dr. Rattigan.”

Lucky snapped a chair shut. “Doesn’t concern you.”

Zora tried a different tack. “Laird speculated you might move out of town to take a better job. He’s angling to get your suite.” She deliberately baited Lucky with that reference to the obnoxious psychologist.

Lucky grimaced. “I’d rather not discuss that lowlife.”

“Then let’s discuss what’s eating you.”

“Like I said, it’s none of your business.”

Any second, flames were going to shoot out her ears. “Oh, yes, it is!”

“How so?” he growled, wielding a chair as if he was prepared to thrust it at her.

The guy sure was prickly. “It’s obvious Cole brought bad news from the conference.”

Lucky set the chair down. “I can’t discuss anything involving a patient.”

He was right to safeguard the man’s privacy, Zora conceded. Medical personnel were required to do that, by law and by hospital policy as well as by simple decency. Still, he’d dropped a clue. Now, why would a patient’s condition bother Lucky so much?

From the kitchen, Karen’s voice drifted to her. “I’m looking forward to having your girls in town next Saturday. Should we invite them and Helen for lunch?”

“I doubt there’ll be time,” Rod replied dourly. “They’re only being dropped off at their grandma’s for an hour or two while Vince sees his doctor.”

“Is he having problems?” Karen asked. “I don’t usually wish anyone ill, but he’s an exception.”

“You can wish that jerk as much ill as you like.” Rod’s voice rose in anger. “Tiff and Amber loathe the man. He may not physically abuse them, but he’s a bully, and emotional scars can be the worst kind.”

As the rumble of the garbage disposal cut off further eavesdropping, Zora put two and two together. Everyone knew—because the billionaire had discussed it openly—that Dr. Rattigan was treating him. And the men’s program counted on his support.

“It’s Vince Adams,” she said. “No, don’t answer. I realize you can’t confirm it.”

Lucky stacked the chairs to one side. “Are you still mad at me for inviting Betsy? Is that why you’re harassing me?”

Zora tried to hug her knees, but her bulge was in the way. “I’m glad you invited her.”

“So we’re good?” His fierce brown eyes raked over her.

“No. What if you leave?” she burst out, surprised by her rush of emotion. “We’re having enough trouble finding one roommate, let alone two. We’ll have to take Laird.”

A knot in her chest warned that she was less concerned about Laird than she was about Lucky staying until the babies were born. Until Andrew hopefully came to his senses and fell in love with his children. Until hell freezes over. No, but if hell did freeze over, she’d counted on Lucky to be there with a warming blanket.

As a friend, of course. He’d been just as helpful to Anya—maybe more so—when they’d moved into this house. It was in his nature.

Lucky stopped fiddling around. “You shouldn’t upset yourself. It might shoot up your blood pressure.”

“Then talk to me.”

He plopped his butt on the arm of the couch. “About what?”

“You’ve been delving into your phone all afternoon, trying to find a solution, right? But if Dr. Rattigan can’t fix Vince—I mean, Patient X—neither can you.”

“So?” Lucky folded his arms. They were muscular arms, and he folded them across a broad, powerful chest. Too bad the movement also flexed the shapely legs of a cartoon woman, which rather spoiled the effect for Zora.

“We have to figure out another way to keep the Adamses involved with Safe Harbor,” she blurted.

“We?” Lucky was addicted to monosyllables today.

She’d surprised herself by saying that. But didn’t she owe Lucky a favor, considering how much support he’d given her?

“Yes, we,” Zora retorted, and, to cut off any argument, she added, “Some people have a ridiculously hard time accepting help, to quote a person I know.”

That produced a tight smile. “What do you imagine you, or we, can do regarding this alleged situation?”

“I have an idea.” Fortunately, a possibility had hit her. “I’ll share it on one condition.” She might as well benefit from this.

“Which is?”

“You stop nagging me about my personal choices, however stupid you may consider them.”

Lucky didn’t answer. Then, abruptly, he burst out laughing. “Sometimes I actually like you.”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“Because you’re a tough little cookie. If only you would apply that quality to he-who-shall-remain-nameless.”

“That’s breaking the rules,” Zora retorted. “No nagging and no smart-aleck remarks, either. Well?”

“You’re draining all the fun out of our relationship.” Lucky raised his hands in mock surrender. “I agree. Now, what’s the suggestion?”

The sight of him leaning close, intent on her, sent a thrill across her nervous system. Must be the maternal hormones running amok. “Remember when Edmond gave that speech about trends in family law?”

Melissa’s husband served as a consultant for staff and patients on the legal aspects of fertility issues.

“Sure.” Another one-syllable response.

“Afterward, Vince approached him for advice.” Zora had heard the story from Melissa. Quickly, she added, “It was in a public place. No attorney-client privilege.”

“Advice about what?”

“About persuading Mrs. Adams to agree to in vitro.” If Vince produced even a small amount of sperm, it could be extracted and injected into an egg, bypassing the need to fix his blocked ducts. “She refuses to undergo in vitro, however.”

“He can afford to hire a surrogate,” Lucky pointed out.

“He objects to bringing in a stranger while his wife is presumably still fertile.” Although Zora detested Portia for Rod’s sake, she understood why a woman approaching forty wouldn’t be eager to undergo a process involving hormone shots as well as uncomfortable procedures to harvest her eggs and implant the embryos. There were also potential health risks from a pregnancy complicated by multiple babies.

“What does this have to do with us?” Lucky asked.

“Talking to Edmond renewed Vince’s enthusiasm for Safe Harbor.” According to Melissa, the hospital administrator had phoned later to congratulate Edmond on saving the day.

“Renewed his enthusiasm how?” Lucky persisted. “His wife still hasn’t agreed, as far as I know.”

“I’m not sure, but judging by what Rod says about him, he enjoys power trips,” Zora observed. “He hates to lose. If we figure out how he can win in this situation, it might keep him engaged with Safe Harbor.”

“Any suggestions?”

“Ask Edmond what he advised.”

Lucky considered this in silence. At close range, Zora noticed an end-of-day dark beard shadowing his rough cheeks. Although she preferred men with a smooth, sophisticated look, she had to admit there was something appealing about Lucky’s male hormones proclaiming themselves loud and clear.

What was wrong with her? At this stage of pregnancy, she ought to have zero interest in sex. Or men. Or sexy men. Or... Stop that.

“Any idea which days Edmond’s at the hospital?” Lucky asked.

“Afraid not.”

In the adjacent dining room, Karen rose after stowing a tray in the sideboard. “Monday mornings and Thursday afternoons. Why the interest in Edmond?”

“It’s private,” Zora and Lucky said simultaneously.

Descending the few steps to the living room, their landlady gathered the pile of chair covers. “That’s unusual, you guys being on the same page.”

They both returned her gaze wordlessly until she sighed and departed. Zora chuckled. That had been fun.

Lucky held out his hand. As her fingers brushed his, a quiver of pleasure ran through her. On her feet, she lingered close to him for a moment, enjoying the citrus smell of his cologne underscored by masculine pheromones. Then in the recesses of her mind, she remembered something he often said: it’s Andrew who should be helping you, not me.

Even without speaking, he projected criticism. Glowering, and ignoring Lucky’s puzzled reaction, Zora headed for the stair lift.

Chapter Four

On Monday mornings while Cole performed surgeries at the hospital, Lucky replenished supplies, scheduled follow-up appointments with patients and prepared for office procedures in the afternoon.

He’d hoped to slip out to talk to Edmond, but the attorney was fully booked and could only spare a few minutes at lunch. It would have to do. But the morning turned out to be busier than expected, due to a special request from the fertility program director, Dr. Owen Tartikoff. A new urologist, a specialist in men’s reconstructive surgery, would soon be joining the staff and Dr. Tartikoff needed someone to review the applications for his office nurse. Due to Lucky’s administrative degree, Cole had recommended him.

Pleased at the responsibility, Lucky sifted through digital résumés to select the best candidates. The final choice would be left to the new physician, since the relationship between a doctor and his nurse was crucial. The right person eased the doctor’s job, increased efficiency and decreased errors.

The wrong person could cause all sorts of unwanted drama. Hospital lore included a by-now-legendary clash between Keely Randolph and Dr. Tartikoff shortly after his arrival a few years ago. There’d been a spectacular scene when the abrasive Dr. T had dressed her down for an error and she’d blown up, calling him arrogant and egotistical before stalking out.

In view of her long history at Safe Harbor, she’d received a second chance with another obstetrician, Paige Brennan. Miraculously, the chemistry between them had proved stable rather than explosive. Keely spoke of her doctor in glowing terms, which in Lucky’s view was how a nurse should behave.

He smiled, remembering how Keely had stood up for Zora at the party, staving off Laird’s attempt to touch her. While his attentions hadn’t necessarily been sexual, Lucky wouldn’t put it past the man.

An image of Zora filled his mind as he recalled her unexpected offer to aid in his quest to expand the men’s program. Her teasing grin was irresistible, and who would have imagined a mother-to-be could radiate such sexy vibes? True, she’d been cute before she got pregnant, but Lucky had been too caught up in resenting her for Stacy’s and Cole’s sakes to take more than a passing notice.

Not that there was any risk of a romance developing between him and Zora. He would never fall for anyone who led such a messy life, and he didn’t appear to be her type, either. Judging by Andrew, she went for slick and manipulative, hardly adjectives that applied to a tattooed guy from a rough part of LA.

A guy who’d committed his share of mistakes and was determined not to repeat them, especially if a wife and children were at stake. If he were ever so blessed, Lucky vowed to be sure his family’s circumstances were as close to perfect as humanly possible. He’d give them a financial buffer. A protective circle of love, commitment and security. If he couldn’t be sure he could provide those things, he’d rather not risk marrying at all.

Lucky focused on the résumés on the computer screen. There were a number of nurses eager to work in such a prestigious environment with regular hours and benefits. He struggled to view them through the perspective of an employer instead of as a fellow nurse who’d spent a year on his own job search. More than ever, he appreciated Cole’s willingness to bring him on board.

Clicking open a new résumé, Lucky frowned in confusion. Was this a joke? Someone had inserted a slightly altered photo of Zora. Her face was narrower, but he’d recognize her anywhere.

Only the name on the file was Zady Moore. Zady, huh? He read on, prepared for humorous remarks, but the data seemed straightforward. This so-called Zady had grown up near Safe Harbor, just like Zora. Same age, too. In fact, same birth date.

She claimed to have a nursing degree and to work for a urologist in Santa Barbara, a couple of hours’ drive north of here. Switching to the internet, Lucky confirmed that there was indeed a Zady Moore listed in connection with that urologist’s office. If this was a hoax, someone had gone to great lengths.

The name Moore struck him as familiar. Oh, right. He’d seen mail addressed to Zora Moore Raditch.

Could Zora have a twin she’d never told him about? Or did she have a cousin with an eerily similar appearance and the same birth date?

The alarm on his watch shrilled, a reminder of his meeting with Edmond. Lucky set aside the résumé with several others marked for further consideration.

From the fourth floor, he took the stairs to the medical building lobby and strode out past the pharmacy into the late September sunshine. A salty breeze wafted from the ocean a mile to the south, while seagulls wheeled overhead.

Next door, the six-story hospital rose in front of him, a lovely sight with its curved wings. Remodeled half a dozen years earlier to specialize in fertility and maternity services, it had established a national reputation by hiring distinguished doctors such as Cole and Dr. T, and by adding state-of-the-art laboratories, surgical suites and equipment. As a result, the side-by-side buildings were bursting at the seams with staff and patients.

Lucky glanced across the circular drive at the vacant dental building that had been mired in bankruptcy proceedings. Once the bankruptcy judge allowed a sale, it would be snapped up fast. The corporation that owned Safe Harbor Medical Center had expressed interest in buying it, but had balked at the high price.

When Vince Adams had expressed interest in funding the growth of the men’s program, he’d seemed a gift from fate. Since then, Vince had demonstrated mood swings and a knack for throwing everyone off balance, but his donation remained the hospital’s best chance of acquiring the building and boosting the men’s fertility program to the next level.

Lucky entered the hospital via the staff door. Instantly, his senses registered tempting aromas from the cafeteria. Also nearby, the chatter of childish voices drifted from the day care center, to which he presumed Zora would soon be entrusting her babies.

As he shoved open the door to the stairs—Lucky seized any chance at exercise—he wondered how long he could go without nagging her. Somebody had to advocate for those kids, who deserved their father’s financial support even if he was incapable of acting like a real dad.

What about this Zady character? If she was a family member, Zora could sure use the help.

On the fifth floor, Lucky passed the executive offices and entered a smaller suite. The receptionist had apparently gone to lunch, and an inner door stood ajar. The placard read, Edmond Everhart, Family Law Consultant.

Lucky listened in case a client remained inside. Hearing no one, he rapped on the frame.

“Come in.” From behind the desk, Edmond rose to greet him. In his early thirties, like Lucky, and also about five-ten, the guy was impeccably dressed in a suit and tie. Only his rumpled brown hair revealed that he’d had a busy morning. All the same, there was nothing glib or calculating about him.

After shaking hands and taking a seat, Lucky went straight to the point. “I understand Vince Adams was souring on Safe Harbor until he talked to you. You spoke with him in public, so I presume client confidentiality doesn’t apply.”

“That’s true.” Leaning back, the attorney removed his glasses, plucked a microfiber cloth from the drawer and polished the lenses.

“I’m curious how you won him over, because—” Lucky couldn’t go into detail, since it involved Vince’s treatment “—just in case he changes his mind again. What upset him in the first place?”

“He felt disrespected because the whole hospital is aware that he has fertility issues,” Edmond said.

“A fact that he’s publicized with his own...statements.” Lucky had nearly said big mouth.

“Be that as it may, he believed people looked down on him because he can’t father children.”

“How’d you reassure him?”

“I shared a few personal details that put us on a par.” After a hesitation, Edmond continued, “I explained that I’d had a vasectomy and later regretted it.” His wife, Melissa, was carrying embryos donated by another couple. “I also asked his advice as a stepfather about parenting my niece while her mom’s in prison. I’m not sure why, but the conversation eased his mind.”

“My guess is that he felt you respected him,” Lucky mused. “Did he bring up anything else?”

Edmond reflected. “Yes. He’s frustrated with his wife’s refusal to consider in vitro. She wasn’t present, so I have no idea how she views the matter.”

Lucky recalled Zora’s comments. “And he rejects hiring a surrogate?” The hospital maintained a roster of screened candidates.

“That’s right.”

Wheels spun in Lucky’s head. “If we persuaded Mrs. Adams to change her mind, that ought to solve the problem.”

“It might,” Edmond said. “But is it wise to try to manipulate a woman into having a child she might not want?”

“I believe she’s worried more about the medical risk than about having another child.” At a previous office visit, a successfully treated patient had arrived to show Cole his newborn son. In the waiting room, Portia Adams had reached out to touch the baby’s cheek and studied the child wistfully. Catching Lucky’s eye, she’d murmured something about missing those days now that her girls were growing up.

“Perhaps there’s a compromise position that might satisfy them both,” Edmond said. “What if his wife provided the eggs but didn’t carry the pregnancy?”

Lucky hadn’t thought about separating the two aspects of in vitro. “It’s worth a try.”

“Good,” Edmond said. “Any other questions?”

“Yes, although it’s unrelated.” While Lucky had promised not to pressure Zora, he hadn’t promised not to encourage others to do so. “Zora hasn’t broken the news to her ex about the twins. You’re her attorney. How about pointing out that the man has legal obligations?”

The attorney laced his fingers atop the desk. “I assure you, I already have.”

“You may have to get in her face, so she can’t brush you off.”

Edmond tilted his head. “May I share something with you that I’ve discovered about relationships?”

“Sure.” Lucky admired how much Edmond had grown and changed while reconciling with Melissa. “Lay it on me.”

“It’s important to respect her choices,” Edmond said.

“Even if you disagree with them?”

“Especially if you disagree with them.” Thoughtfully, the lawyer added, “And especially when she’s the person who has to deal with the consequences.”

“But Zora keeps repeating the same boneheaded mistakes,” Lucky protested.

“I suspect she understands her ex-husband better than either of us,” Edmond said. “Legally, she’ll have to inform him about the babies once they’re born, but until then, she might have reason to be cautious.”

Lucky only knew Andrew by reputation. “I suppose it’s hard to predict how a guy will react to that kind of news.”

“Exactly.”

The circumstances might not be perfect, but this was a situation of Andrew’s own making. Any decent guy would accept responsibility. However, the man had proven repeatedly that he didn’t care about honor or decency. “Thanks for the words of wisdom.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh, one more thing,” Lucky said as they both rose. “Does Zora have a sister named Zady?”

“I believe that’s her twin,” Edmond said.

“Thanks.” A twin. Damn! By applying for the job, Zady had put Lucky in a delicate position. He felt as if he ought to alert Zora, but her sister’s application was confidential.

He set off for the cafeteria, anxious to arrive before Zora finished eating so he could get her opinion about his discussion with Edmond. As for her mysterious twin, he’d better leave that hot potato alone.

* * *

BEING AROUND PERFECT people filled Zora with a sense of inadequacy. It was balanced by a fervent desire to figure out how they did it.

Take her obstetrician. Six feet tall with dramatic red hair and green eyes, Paige Brennan was a doctor, mother to an eighteen-month-old daughter and wife of the head of a detective agency. Everyone admired and adored her, including her nurse, Keely, who could barely stand most people.

Busy as she was, Dr. Brennan had fit in Zora’s exam during her lunch break. The woman was a step from sainthood.

As she sat on the examining table, Zora doubted she could ever develop such an air of confidence. As for inspiring others, she’d settle for earning their good-natured tolerance.

“Surely you have some questions,” the doctor said after listening to the babies’ heartbeats and reviewing Zora’s weight gain and test results. They were fine considering her stage of pregnancy. “You never mention any problems.”

“Am I supposed to?” Zora had been raised to consider complaining a sign of weakness.

“Frankly, yes.” The tall woman draped her frame over a stool. “At thirty-two weeks with a multiple pregnancy, you must be having trouble sleeping, and your ankles are swollen. As I’ve suggested before, you should be on bed rest.”

“I can’t afford it,” Zora said. “I don’t have a husband to wait on me.”

“What about the rest of your family?” the doctor asked.

“My mom and stepfather live in Oregon.” She’d rather not have either of them around. And there was no sense bringing up her twin, perfect Zady with her ideal husband and kids, whom their mother never failed to mention when she talked with Zora.

The doctor’s forehead creased. “Is your mom flying down for the birth?”