“Ouch, that’s harsh. I was perfectly willing to go that route if Barry hadn’t stepped up to the plate. Well, figuratively anyway.” Rhonnie’s eyes sparkled at her as she took a sip of her herbal iced tea.
Erica found herself giving a reluctant smile at the humorous thought of her lesbian neighbour having actual sex with her gay best friend.
“And you’re straight,” Rhonnie continued. “You can get it hand-delivered, so to speak.”
Erica snorted and irritatedly flipped her hair back once more before scrounging through her handbag for a clip. It was breezy today in the outdoor café they had met for lunch and she happened to be sitting with the wind at her back. “Hand-delivered.” She snickered. “It’s not actually the hand that does the trick, Rhon.”
“Well, you know I don’t have much experience with the body part that does.” Rhonnie tried to look serious and they both ended up laughing.
Erica continued to fruitlessly search through her purse for something to pull her hair back with. If she didn’t need it long enough to look decent on-air, she’d chop it all off. Finally giving up, she stood and started moving all her lunch items to a different seat. She was scooting over to the better positioned chair when a deep voice intruded from behind her.
“Pardon me, ladies. Do you mind if I join you?”
Erica turned her head just as she sat and looked up to see a tall, rugged dark-haired man standing behind the chair she’d just vacated.
She exchanged puzzled looks with Rhonnie, who shrugged and nodded.
“Sure.” Erica indicated the empty chair, giving the stranger an appreciative once-over as he sat. “I’m Erica, and this is Rhonnie.”
“Trevor,” he introduced himself then settled back, totally comfortable, as though he chatted with complete strangers every day. On closer inspection, he looked younger to Erica than he’d first appeared, perhaps in his twenties. Though he was tanned, he didn’t have any crinkling going on at the corners of his eyes yet.
“Sorry to intrude on your lunch, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation about sperm donors.”
“Oh God.” Erica closed her eyes as she thought back on what she’d said. Her face flamed, then she pinched Rhonnie under the table as she heard her friend laugh.
“It’s okay. I just wanted to give you some insight. You see, I’ve been a donor.”
Erica’s eyes flew open and she again ran her gaze over the gorgeous, muscular man, not missing one positive attribute, from his warm brown eyes, to his naturally wavy, full head of dark brown hair, to his very fit form. No glasses either. “You’re a sperm donor?” she asked incredulously.
A little part of her mind was rubbing its hands together in glee. He’s perfect, it whispered to her. Sign me up. For the ‘hand-delivery’ option, please.
Rhonnie laughed yet again and Erica shot her an irritated glance. Bad enough she was pregnant—now she was laughing at her? Rhon was so off her speed dial.
“So I take it you don’t fall into either the ego-maniacal or the dateless-loser category?” Rhonnie asked innocently.
“Not last time I checked,” he teased back as he turned his amused gaze on Erica.
Wishing the earth would just swallow her up, Erica gritted her teeth and put on a semblance of a self-deprecating smile while she waited for the duo to stop laughing together as if they were the old friends.
“Seriously,” Rhonnie directed at Trevor, who looked completely at ease with the whole situation. Erica was forced to admire his self-confidence and personable nature. “Why would you ever donate to a sperm bank?”
Trevor met the question calmly. “My brother and I were fathered by a donor. And I really have no desire to ever be a parent myself, but I believe in the system, so I thought, why not?”
Erica’s eyes widened in shock. Trevor’s mom had apparently hit the donor jackpot.
Rhonnie frowned slightly. “How could you donate if you didn’t know your paternal information? That’s all protected, right?”
He grinned. “Works just fine when it’s the same sperm bank.”
Rhonnie nodded as if considering. “Which one did you use?”
Erica leant forward in anticipation of the answer to Rhonnie’s million-dollar question.
He named one well known to them both, one they’d even discussed as a possibility for Erica—Rhonnie had done plenty of research before she made the decision to go with Barry as the father of her child. Excitement built in Erica as she wondered at the kismet that he brought Trevor past their table while they’d been talking about this topic.
Then he crushed the newly budding germ of a plan in Erica’s head by adding, “But I’ve withdrawn my donations from public use.”
“Why?” Erica and Rhonnie chorused, and Trevor looked uncomfortable for the first time.
“It’s a long story.” He almost looked as though he was considering sharing, then Erica saw the veil come down. “Personal reasons.” His tone made it clear there would be no more information forthcoming. After a brief awkward pause, he continued, “But when I overheard what you were discussing so passionately, I still felt as though I should reassure you that the system is a good one and can be the right choice if you’re looking at it for solid reasons.”
Rhonnie nodded. “That’s what I keep telling her.” She ran her hand over her almost non-existent baby bump. “I actually have a friend who donated for mine.”
Trevor grinned. “So I heard, and with no hand-delivery, even.” His eyes sparkled with humour as Rhonnie finished shovelling a bite of her lunch into her mouth and coughed out a laugh. “Congratulations.”
The waiter came over and Trevor ordered a chipotle steak wrap and ice water without consulting the menu.
Rhonnie’s eyebrows went up. “Do you eat here often?”
He shrugged. “Not as frequently as I used to.”
“Oh?” Rhonnie bristled slightly and Erica braced herself. Rhonnie was the restaurant’s manager and understandably biased to love her baby. That said, she knew Rhon didn’t mind constructive feedback. She just hoped that Trevor was nice about it.
“I’m out of town a lot and I need to keep my boyish figure for my job. So, depending on my schedule, I either can’t indulge or I’m rolling through at odd hours.”
“Boyish figure, huh.” Erica sat back and gave him a long assessment. “Doesn’t look all that boyish from where I sit,” she flirted.
Trevor wasn’t in the least embarrassed by her intense perusal, grinning appealingly back at her. If anything, he seemed to welcome it. “What I mean is, I use my body to make my living, so I have to watch the unnecessary calories.”
“What is it you do? Actor?” Rhonnie queried. Her plate was empty and she was eyeing Erica’s salad. Becoming accustomed to her friend’s ravenous appetite, she shoved it over and silently indicated for her to help herself.
“Not exactly. I’m a fitness model and demonstrator, so I do print and video.”
Rhonnie immediately pulled out her iPhone and Googled him. She scrolled through the images.
“Wow, look at some of the magazines you’ve scored covers for!”
Erica found herself peering over Rhonnie’s shoulder at the bounty his currently clothed state only hinted at, and her one-track mind gave her another pointed nudge at the genetics on display.
The waiter brought Trevor’s meal and more bread for Rhonnie. As the others ate, Erica found herself relaxing in his company. They continued the conversation when Trevor asked the ladies about their respective occupations. Trevor gave Erica an intense once-over when she admitted to her career with their city’s major-market network affiliate, but the barrage of questions and fawning she sometimes received never materialised. Instead he only commented that he’d thought she looked familiar, and moved on to question Rhonnie about her own work.
“Ah! No wonder you were so worried when I said I didn’t come here often.”
Rhonnie blushed. “Guilty. I’m glad you like it. And we do have some really healt
hy things on the menu.” She waved a fork at Erica’s salad. “But if there’s something in particular you’d like to see, I can try to get it on the menu for you.”
Trevor cocked his head. “That’s very nice of you. Thank you. And really, a few more high protein, low carb options could only be a win-win in this city with so many body conscious people.”
They talked for a while longer. Between the two gregarious people talking now about food and diet, Erica just listened while she sipped at her drink. Trevor was a lot of fun to be around and very easy on the eye, and she was reluctant for the surprise lunch date to end.
Eventually Trevor set his napkin to the side of his plate and stood. He pulled out his wallet and tossed down a twenty. “I have to get going, ladies. Rhonnie”—he grasped her hand—“good luck with the rest of your pregnancy.” Then he turned to Erica and his smile increased in wattage. Feeling a bit foolish for her lack of participation in the conversation, she prepared to say goodbye.
Instead, Trevor surprised the life out of her by inviting her to dinner the following night.
* * * *
Now, five months later, they were dating exclusively and had keys to one another’s condo. The sex was amazing, the conversation flowed, and their relationship didn’t seem to suffer during each of their frequent absences for work. In fact, Trevor was pretty much perfect in her mind. Except for one major detail.
He laughed at the idea of ever wanting to have kids.
And her biological clock was more like Big Ben right now.
Was it selfish to want to break up with the perfect guy just so she could—what?—search randomly for Mr Ready-to-be-a-Dad?
Of all the crappy timing…
“Tick-tock,” she muttered, tears pricking her throat.
Chapter Three
Erica managed to ignore Trevor’s ringtone until it went to voicemail yet again, trying unsuccessfully to tune it out by reviewing her notes for the voiceover she was about to record.
You are such a coward.
She was, and she knew it. But for the life of her, she couldn’t bring herself to begin the we’re-in-different-places conversation with Trevor, even though she’d rehearsed it at least a hundred times.
Every time Trevor went out of town on a shoot or publicity gig, she told herself she would break it off as soon as he got home. And every time he returned, she saw that brilliant, familiar smile directed at her and wimped out.
Coming up on six months of dating, she could feel herself getting in deeper and deeper. In fact, without the obstacle of her obsession with having a child and his adamant—yet honest, she grudgingly admitted—refusal to go there, she might have even been considering popping the question to him at this point. They were obviously well-matched despite the age difference, and there was love between them. Not the passionate, dramatic love of cinema, but a steady, pleasing, and somehow more real feeling love than she had ever imagined.
Waging an inner war and losing to her curiosity, Erica finally caved and listened to the two-day series of voicemails from Trevor.
“Hi babe. Been a long day here, and no cell reception where we were, so finally have a chance to check in. Hope you’re doing good. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Hey, it’s me. It’s beautiful here, you should really come along with me one of these times. Meanwhile, it looks like I might be home a couple of days early. Something’s come up, and luckily the stars aligned and I was able to convince the photographer to wrap my part of the shoot today in one really long day rather than having to hang around until Wednesday. So I’ll be seeing you soon. Love you.”
“Hi. Hope everything’s okay. I keep missing you. Anyway, I’m flying stand-by and looks like I’ll be getting on this flight, so I’ll be home late tonight. Can’t wait to see you. I have a surprise for you, too, and also something to ask—something I’ve been thinking about for a while now.” He cleared his throat. “So…I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Erica paused with her finger on the key to erase the last message and instead hit replay, listening with growing concern. A surprise? And something to ask?
Oh crap. Was he going to pop the question?
Breaking into a sudden, sickening sweat, she tried to think of what else he could have possibly meant by that sort of uncharacteristically hesitant mention. Trevor was nothing if not confident. But the nervousness in his voice had come through loud and clear. Whatever it was, it was big.
Pulling the Scarlett act again, she firmly turned her mind away from Trevor and back to the job at hand.
* * * *
After spending the rest of her day being surprisingly productive, buried in the depths of her to-do list, Erica finally gave up on working when she found herself drifting off for the third time in as many emails. The world outside the windows was dark and her assistant, Miranda, looked bushed.
“Why don’t you head out? I’m wrapping up anyway,” Erica called to Miranda, and received only a half-hearted wave in response.
Youch. She definitely has a Starbucks card coming for putting up with my crap.
She gathered her things and headed for the door, scrolling through her texts. Nothing from Trevor, so he probably hadn’t landed yet. He was good about letting her know when he was on the ground.
Alone in her car with only her thoughts for company, it was impossible to keep her mind from circling back to the conundrum she found herself in. Suddenly not wanting to go back to her empty condo, she dialled Rhonnie.
“What’s up, girlfriend?” came the greeting over the car’s speakers.
“Well, I was going to ask if you were working, but the background noise answers that question.” The din of the pub was unmistakable. “You guys busy tonight?”
“Very, but I’ll snag you a table if you’re coming by.”
Erica smiled with gratitude. “Thanks. I’ll be there in ten.” She sat up a bit straighter in the driver’s seat of her Audi.
Not sure whether she was using the dinner outing to escape or confront her dilemma, she debated about whether to even raise the discussion with Rhonnie, right up until she actually saw her friend’s face and suddenly found herself fighting back tears.
Rhonnie’s welcoming smile morphed into a look of concern. She took Erica by the elbow, leading her to a somewhat isolated pub table back by an order station. Whispering a drink order to the waiter on the way past, she guided Erica onto one of the stools and immediately sat across from her.
“Okay, spill it. What’s wrong?”
“You’re busy,” Erica hedged, not sure if she wanted to get into it at all, but the sympathetic face was implacable. She took a deep breath. “I’m going to break up with Trevor.”
Just the slightest frown was her friend’s only reaction as she met her gaze steadily, evidently waiting for more information.
“It’s just that…” Erica found herself wanting to tell Rhonnie everything. “It hit me recently that while I do love Trevor, it’s not love-love. I could totally see us together for the long-haul, but there just something…missing.”
Rhonnie nodded sympathetically. Their iced teas arrived and Erica tried to compose her thoughts while taking a few sips without really tasting it.
“He’s been gone on a shoot, and I’ve been totally ducking his calls.”
“Did he get upset?”
“No, just the opposite. He continued to leave messages as his normal cheerful self…well, until today.”
“What did he say?”
Erica shook her head, not sure why she was so upset by the thought of having to turn Trevor down if he did propose. “Well, it’s hard to— Oh, here…I’ll just play it.” She pulled out her phone and went to voicemail, then replayed his final cryptic message from today. Afterward, she looked at Rhonnie, troubled. “Am I jumping to conclusions that he might be thinking about popping the question? What else could he want to ask me that would make him sound so nervous? Something that he’s been thinking about for a while?” She dropped her head onto her hands. “
I just don’t know what to do. I don’t want to lose Trevor, but…”
“But you’re at different places in your lives.”
“Yes.” Then she shocked both herself and Rhonnie by adding, “I think I’m ready to look at AI with a donor.”
The decision seemed to well up out of nowhere, but it felt right, much more so than the pipe dream of trying to magically find the right man she could love and who wanted kids, right now.
“That’s great, but why do I get the feeling you think Trevor and getting inseminated are mutually exclusive? Have you guys talked about this?”
Erica gratefully accepted a refill of her glass of tea from the waiter and waited for him to leave before answering. “Not specifically, but he’s so young. And the larger point is, he’s not ready to be a parent, even if the baby’s not his. I don’t know if he’ll ever be, and”—she paused, looking down at her fingers, toying with the napkin—“I can’t start this process knowing he’s not going be there for the end result. And I can’t wait.” She looked up and met Rhonnie’s glistening eyes. “I’m forty-four, Rhon. If I don’t do this now, it’s not going to happen.”
“Maybe he’ll surprise you, hon. I think you should tell him what you want to do.”
Erica shook her head, frustrated. “Every time the subject has come up, even peripherally, even that first day—you were there,” she reminded her friend, “he just clams up and gets this really set look on his face. Whatever his reasons are—for not wanting to be a dad, for withdrawing his specimens—they are obviously deep and real and not up for discussion.” She shrugged resignedly. “I guess more than anything that should tell me we’re not right for each other, that he can’t just tell me why he’s so adamant about it. He has to know my interest in the topic, but he avoids it like the plague. Always distracts me with sex,” she grumped, then met Rhonnie’s eyes, and suddenly they were both laughing.
Falling for the Other Brother Page 2