by Susan Crosby
“No experiment, after all?” she asked, not at all unhappy about it.
“Did I say that? I think a little experimentation is definitely in order.” He backed her up until she came against the bed, then fell onto it. “I think we should see how long it takes to make you beg.”
She laughed, breathless and excited. He had her begging almost immediately, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of accommodating her, dragging it out until she couldn’t think about anything but him, every aspect of him, so that when he finally plunged inside her, she was swept into a climax instantly and held suspended, so that she had no idea how much time passed, five seconds or five minutes. He started to pull out, and she wrapped her legs around him, knew the moment he gave in and let it happen for himself, too. Then he was draped over her, his weight on his arms enough that she could breathe, but his own breathing was heavy, his body adhered to hers.
Awareness crept in, like the sun coming up, first in pink then full light. He lifted his head and met her gaze.
“No protection,” they said at the same time.
Then, “I got carried away,” also simultaneously, which drew a shaky laugh from her and an even more serious look in his eyes.
“I have never been irresponsible, Sara Beth. I don’t know….” He stopped and shook his head, then rolled with her to his side and gathered her close.
“Neither have I.” She wanted to ask him what he thought that meant, that two such highly responsible people could be so irresponsible about sex, but she didn’t ask, wasn’t sure she wanted to know his answer. She only knew how she felt.
She also didn’t want to trap him with a pregnancy.
He kissed her hair, tucked her closer, into their usual presleep configuration. “Sleep,” he said.
Surprisingly, she did.
Chapter Fourteen
The Coach House Diner was within walking distance of the Armstrong Fertility Institute. Ted and Chance took a late lunch, hoping to avoid the possibility of running into anyone from the institute. Tall, blond Ramona Tate was already seated at a table in the fifties-style diner with its old-fashioned counter and leatherette booths. They hadn’t even finished their greetings before Chance was pointing to a booth, tucked back in a corner.
“Let’s sit over there. It’s a better spot to see who comes in the door,” he said. “Have you ordered, Ramona?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“Thanks so much for your help,” Ted said as they settled into the new booth.
“I get enormous satisfaction catching bad guys in the act.”
“Hi, Jenny,” Chance said to the waitress who approached with three glasses of ice water. “How are you this beautiful day?”
Because Chance had turned on the famous Demetrios charm, Ted took a closer look at the waitress, who was blond, like Ramona, but curvier.
“Have you looked outside, Dr. Demetrios?” Jenny asked.
“I like the rain. Don’t you?”
“I guess that depends on whether I’m already at work or coming to work.”
“Makes sense.” He ignored the menu she’d set in front of him.
“Your usual?” she asked.
Ted and Ramona exchanged glances. It was as if they didn’t exist.
“That’d be great,” Chance said, then seemed to wake up to the fact he wasn’t alone. “Have you decided?” he asked.
“We haven’t had a chance to look at the menu yet.” Ted bit back a smile and opened his menu. Ramona did the same, except she was grinning.
“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Jenny left, without even asking for their drink orders.
“Come here often?” Ted asked Chance, studying the menu.
“Fairly. Why?” The belligerence in his voice made Ted look up.
“What do you recommend?” Ted asked.
Chance settled back, then toyed with his water glass. “I usually get the club sandwich and a cup of vegetable soup.”
“Sounds good to me.” Ted watched Jenny talk to some customers at the counter while occasionally glancing Chance’s way—or maybe she was waiting for Ramona to set aside her menu, too, signaling she’d made her choice.
When their orders were taken and drinks served, they got down to business.
“Paul and I talked about your situation,” Ramona said, twirling her engagement ring. “We agree that Breyer is probably being spiteful. If they move ahead with their threat, you’d have legal recourse, but for now, they haven’t stated their intentions. So, we need to fight back before it gets to that point. Did you find anything new since we talked last night?”
“We’re pretty sure the ‘unethical funding’ they’re referring to is a grant that Breyer accepted from a company called McAdams Fertility Corp. They make a vitamin concoction they bill as a cure. Since we began our own research with a similar base, McAdams had a vested interest in our results.”
“Meaning they expected our research to be tilted in their favor,” Chance added. “But we didn’t go after their money and, in fact, would have rejected the idea of writing a grant for it, had we known. We were forced to accept it, after the fact. That was ultimately what spurred us to move on.”
“McAdams probably demanded their money back,” Ted said. “And Breyer won’t refund it, deciding to put the blame on us. We don’t know that for sure, but it’s the only scenario that makes sense.”
“We could also nip this in the bud right now,” Chance said with a sideways glance at Ted.
Ted had no doubt what Chance meant. “We’re not going down that path. That would make us no better than them.”
“Why? What?” Ramona asked.
Chance raised his water glass toward Ted. “We know something they don’t think we know.”
“And we’re not using that knowledge,” Ted said. “It doesn’t affect patient care, but they could lose patients. They may not be cutting-edge in research anymore, but they still do good work with infertility issues.”
“Well, if you won’t stoop to their level…” Ramona smiled. “Actually, I admire that. It also makes me totally believe you when you say you’re innocent. So, let’s come up with a plan.”
They ate lunch and talked, lingering until Chance was paged to return. He went up to the waitress, Jenny, handed her some money, said something to make her blush, then left.
“Smitten,” Ramona said.
“Looks like it.”
Ted and Ramona walked back to the institute later, then stood in the hall to finish their conversation.
“So, Ted, were you always this ethical?”
“It’s always been important to me,” he said, but his thoughts drifted to Sara Beth.
“Do you find it hard to live up to the standards?”
“What? No—Yes.” He searched for the right thing to say when his head was filled with the fact he twice hadn’t worn a condom with Sara Beth, breaking ethical standards, as Ramona called them. So much for being prepared.
Finally he said, “Doing the right thing matters to me. Always has, always will.”
“I hope you’re not a dying breed.” Ramona opened the door to the employee lounge saying, “I’m going to grab some coffee to take to my office.”
Sara Beth almost tumbled out.
Ted caught her before she fell right into Ramona.
“I’m so sorry!” Sara Beth said, straightening. “I’m glad I wasn’t carrying a cup of hot coffee.”
“Me, too.” Ramona smiled. “How are you, Sara Beth?”
Her gaze flickered to Ted briefly then back to Ramona. “I’m very well, thanks. Have you and my favorite quasibrother set a date yet?”
Ramona laughed. “I forget that you and Paul know each other so well. No, not yet. Speaking of siblings, I may have found my half sister.”
“Oh, how wonderful! Have you met her?”
“Not yet. We’re trying to be sure of the connection. She’s apparently an heiress living in New York City. Her name is Victoria Welsh.”
“It’s good that you’re being careful of her feelings. I’ve heard a lot of stories about children who find out who their donor mother or father is, and have a hard time dealing with it.”
“Exactly. We are using caution and care.” She touched Ted’s arm. “Maybe you don’t know what I’m talking about?”
“I’m clueless.”
“Sara Beth can fill you in. I don’t mind sharing with certain people.”
She said goodbye, then Ted and Sara Beth walked to the lab together.
“So, what’s her story?” he asked.
“Her mother donated eggs here many years ago, and now she needs a bone-marrow transplant. Ramona isn’t a match, so she’s been trying to track down possible biological children. Looks like it may happen, after all. It’s going to be complicated, no matter how careful they are with this Victoria.”
She went quiet, not saying another word until they were inside the lab. They’d started writing the manual that morning, but he’d taken every opportunity to stall. She’d teased him about it.
But the elephant in the room was the fact they’d now slept together twice without protection, and neither of them wanted to talk about it. He guessed he should open the discussion….
“I’m a product of artificial insemination,” she said out of the blue.
He just stared at her, at her hands tightly clenched, at how her cheekbones seemed sharp and her face pale.
“I don’t know who my father is.”
It was the sort of thing Ted wasn’t good at—dealing with people’s emotional issues, even someone he liked as much as Sara Beth, but he knew he had to say something. “Do you want to know?”
She gave him a sharp look. “Wouldn’t you?”
Yes, he probably would. “Your mother won’t tell you?”
“The donor was anonymous. My mother had been working here a few years when she decided to do it.”
Ted guided Sara Beth to a chair, then sat beside her. “We hear all the time about children who track down donors,” he said. “Ramona’s a good example. Maybe you could talk to Paul and Lisa about letting you have the information, or letting one of them try to track down the donor, just like Ramona did.”
“There’s no file. It’s gone.”
“How do you know?”
“I hunted for it.” She hadn’t been looking him in the eye. Now she did. “While you were taking up boxes last week.”
He wasn’t sure what he was feeling about that, except that it didn’t sit well. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’re…you. I couldn’t involve you.” Her smile was small and tight. “And now you know I’m not as ethical as you.”
“Under the same circumstances, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing.” He wondered why he wasn’t upset by her revelation. In fact, he was more upset that she’d kept it from him until now. No wonder she’d been different last weekend at the shore, less talkative, more distracted. He wished she’d confided in him earlier. That she’d trusted him enough.
“The end justifies the means?” she asked. “That’s generous, but I guess it doesn’t matter. My mother said she couldn’t leave her own information here for others to see. I understand that. Maybe I’ll find it in her personal belongings years from now. Maybe she destroyed it.”
Her eyes welled. Ted felt more helpless than he ever had. He rubbed her back. “I can’t imagine what that would be like—not knowing.”
She pressed the corners of her eyes. “It’s gotten harder lately, and I don’t even know why. On Valentine’s Day—” She stopped, took a shaky breath.
“What happened?” Other than coming to his rescue that day…
“I was in a grocery store, and there was a dad buying a stuffed bear and some candy for his little girl. It about killed me, you know? I never had that, never was daddy’s little girl. Sometimes I watch dads playing with kids in the park and my heart hurts. Not just aches, but hurts.” She pushed her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry for dumping this on you. I was excited for Ramona to find that connection—not only to help her mother, but because it also gives her a sister. It just hit me hard. I’ll be fine. Really.”
She got up. “I’ll be back.”
Ted didn’t move for a minute, then he opened a desk drawer and took out an employee roster. It hadn’t been updated since Sara Beth’s mother had retired. He found Grace O’Connell’s address, wrote it down, stuffed it in his pocket.
After all that Sara Beth had done for him, it was time he returned the favor.
And what if she was pregnant? He needed to step up to the plate now.
He left her a note, then for the first time in his life, played hooky from work.
He should have called first—etiquette demanded it—but he was afraid she wouldn’t agree to see him. So, he surprised Grace O’Connell, ambushed her by showing up on her doorstep.
He hesitated when he saw her, because either she suffered from allergies or she’d been crying. Should he ask what was wrong? She probably wouldn’t answer. Why would she, without knowing him? He was grateful, at least, that they’d met in the lobby at the institute, so she recognized him.
“This isn’t a good time,” she said.
“I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t extremely important, Ms. O’Connell. Please. Just a few minutes of your time.”
“All right,” she said with obvious reluctance.
Ted stepped inside, noticing that she and her daughter had similar styles in furnishings and art.
“Thank you for seeing me.”
“You didn’t give me a lot of choice, did you? Have a seat.”
He saw Sara Beth in her, different hair and eye color, but similarities in their facial structure and body type.
She sat in a chair across from him. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve been seeing your daughter.”
“She told me.”
Okay. That made it easier. He didn’t have to break that particular ice. “Sara Beth talked with me today about how she was conceived.”
Her mouth hardened. “I see.”
“It weighs on her a lot that she doesn’t know who fathered her.”
“You’re not telling me something I haven’t known for most of her life.” Her fingers curved into the chair arms. “Your point is?”
“She’s in a great deal of pain because of it. I don’t like to see her in pain.”
“Do you think I do? You think it gives me pleasure to see her struggle with it?” Her voice kept rising as she defended herself. “What kind of mother do you think I am?”
“A loving one, according to Sara Beth. Except with regard to this particular issue, I gather.”
She calmed a little. “My hands are tied by anonymity. You know how that works, right, Dr. Bonner?”
“Please call me Ted. Of course I do. Which is why I’m offering to track down the father and see if he’s interested in meeting her—without involving her in the search, or getting her hopes up.”
“My daughter suggested that very thing last night. So, you’re the intermediary she chose?”
“We didn’t discuss it. And she has no idea I’ve come to see you. It’s just something I’d like to do for her.”
“Why?”
“Why not? She means a lot to me.” She might be the mother of my child.
She smiled tightly. “And you think this would make her happy?”
Ted didn’t know what to make of the woman whom Sara Beth sang the praises of. He was finding her aloof and not very maternal. Why wouldn’t she want Sara Beth to be happy?
“I know she’s unhappy not knowing,” Ted said.
“There’s no guarantee that would change if she got the information she thinks she wants.”
“True. But the curiosity she’s lived with would be satisfied. She could move forward, one way or the other. She’s long been an adult. It’s time to stop treating her like a child.”
It was the wrong thing to say. He saw that right away. Her
expression closed up tight.
“She is a child, Dr. Bonner. My child. That will never change. And until you have a child of your own, you won’t understand how strong that bond is, especially the need to protect your child from hurt. You think it will help her to find who fathered her? I don’t.”
“She’s your daughter, Ms. O’Connell, and always will be. But she’s no longer your child.”
Grace stood. “It’s time for you to go.”
He’d already risen automatically because she had. Now he went to the door, guilt settling on his shoulders. He’d meant to help Sara Beth. Instead, he may have hurt her cause even more. “Thank you for your time.”
“You haven’t asked me not to tell Sara Beth about this,” she said as he stepped outside.
“You won’t have to. I plan to tell her myself.”
“Ah. Honesty is the best policy?”
He smiled, more at himself than her, then recited his mantra. “I was an Eagle Scout.”
“I guess that explains a lot,” Grace said. “Maybe I should be just as direct with you.”
“Please do.”
“My daughter generally puts other people’s needs before her own. It’s part of what makes her a good nurse. But she’s also gotten hurt because of it.”
He considered that. Don’t mess with my daughter, was what she meant. It was true that Sara Beth had often put his needs first. He’d been trying to pay her back some today, but without success.
“I hear you,” Ted said. “Thank you for giving me a chance to speak. I hope you change your mind, sooner rather than later.”
“Well, that day may, indeed, come. Who knows?”
He didn’t know how to take that, but ultimately, it didn’t matter.
The only thing that mattered now was how Sara Beth felt about what he’d done.
Sara Beth kept herself busy in the clinical wing. Ted had disappeared right after she’d shared her secret with him. He’d seemed okay with what she’d told him, but then he’d left the clinic for parts unknown, only leaving behind a note saying he’d let her know when he got back.