by Kate Hardy
Lorenzo was pretty sure that it was just a turn of phrase, but the word ‘proposition’ put all sorts of inappropriate ideas in his head. Jenna Harris was gorgeous as well as being bubbly, with her mop of blonde curls that she wore pulled back in a scrunchie on the ward, wide blue eyes and ready smile. He liked the way she’d been with their patients and their parents: kind, clear and sympathetic.
But, after what had happened with Georgia and Florence, he wasn’t up for falling in love again and getting his heart well and truly trampled on. This was his new start, and he intended to focus on his job, not his personal life.
‘Proposition,’ he said carefully.
‘I’ll explain over lunch. Meet you back here after your next patient?’ she asked.
‘OK,’ he said.
At the canteen, Lorenzo chose a sandwich, fruit and coffee, and Jenna did the same.
‘You really don’t have to buy me lunch,’ he said while they queued to pay.
‘Oh, but I do,’ she corrected, ‘because I want you to feel ever so slightly beholden to me.’
So she was being manipulative? That was pretty much how Georgia had been with him. Except Jenna was being up front about it instead of hiding secrets. Well, he’d try to keep an open mind and listen to what she had to say before he made any judgements.
Once they’d sat down, he asked, ‘So what’s the proposition?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Hang on, aren’t we supposed to be doing all the usual pleasantries first? Like, where did you train, what made you pick paediatrics, does your family live near, that sort of thing?’
He shrugged. ‘OK. I trained in London, I picked paediatrics because it was my favourite rotation when I was training; my parents, brother and sister all live in East London at the moment but my parents are thinking of moving back to their roots in Lake Garda when my father retires; and I’m single.’ Most importantly, he added, ‘And I’m not looking for a partner.’ He’d had completely the wrong idea about his marriage, thinking that he and Georgia were happy. But things hadn’t been what they’d seemed; he’d lived a lie for nearly two years before Georgia had finally cracked and told him the truth about Florence. Though he kept that particular black hole behind high walls and barbed wire. ‘You?’
‘I trained here in Muswell Hill, and I chose paediatrics for the same reason as you—I like kids and I really love making them better. My parents and my sister all live in London, about half an hour away from me; and I’m also single and not looking for a partner.’ She smiled. ‘Which means that you and I can be friends.’
‘Is this part of the proposition?’ he checked.
She laughed. ‘Absolutely not. But we’re a close-knit team on our ward and we do a lot of things together. Team nights out for pizza and ten-pin bowling, cinema, picnics on the beach in summer—that sort of thing. It’s kind of like having an extended family. Partners and kids come along to half the stuff and it’s lovely.’
A family. The thing he’d once had—and lost. And how he missed it. But he knew he was lucky to have what he had: a large extended Italian family who loved him. Wanting more was just greedy.
He shook himself. Jenna didn’t know about his past, and she didn’t need to know. Besides, she’d clearly meant to reassure him that he’d picked a really nice place to work. ‘Sounds good,’ he said, forcing himself to keep his tone light.
She raised her coffee mug at him. ‘Welcome to the team. I think you’re going to love it here as much as I do.’
He hoped so, too, but he’d reserve judgement until he’d been here a while. ‘And the proposition?’
‘I’m on the ward’s fundraising committee. A week on Saturday, we’re holding a six-hour danceathon to raise money for new toys for the ward,’ she explained. ‘People pay a fixed sum to enter, and they can be sponsored either for a flat fee or for each hour they stay on the dance floor.’
Now he understood what the proposition was. ‘You want me to be one of the dancers?’
‘If you’re not on duty, then yes, please.’
Which would be an easy let-out for him. Except she’d know pretty quickly that he wasn’t telling the truth, and he didn’t want to start his professional life here with a lie. He’d had enough of lies.
‘I’m off duty.’
‘Good.’ She smiled. ‘It should be easy for you. Aren’t all Italian men meant to be wonderful dancers?’
‘That,’ he said, ‘is a sweeping generalisation. And I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you, because I have two left feet.’
‘So do half the people who are coming along on the day. It really doesn’t matter what you look like or how badly you dance, as long as you raise some money for the toys. It’s going to be fun,’ she said. ‘And you’ll get to hear Maybe Baby play.’
‘Who are Maybe Baby?’ he asked.
‘They’re pretty much the hospital’s house band—they play at a lot of weddings and special occasions,’ Jenna explained. ‘Half of them are from the Maternity ward—Anton on guitar and Gilly on bass—and from our department there’s Keely on vocals and Martin on drums. They’re fantastic.’
‘They’re playing for the whole six hours?’
‘Probably for about half of it,’ she said. ‘Nathan, one of the porters in the Emergency Department, is a DJ when he’s not working here, so he’s doing the other half of the music for us. We’re holding the danceathon in the local high school’s sports hall; one of the local pubs is running a bar for us and donating the profits from the night, and a few of the parents of children we’ve treated heard what we’re doing and offered to sort out the food for us. Plus we’ve sweet-talked a few local businesses into donating raffle prizes, everything from nice toiletries to chocolates to vouchers towards a meal.’
Lorenzo had the strongest feeling that she was downplaying her own role in this. Clearly it was something she’d been deeply involved in, something close to her heart.
‘I’m more than happy to sponsor someone,’ he said, ‘and maybe take tickets on the door or help run your raffle stall. But I’m afraid it’s a no to the dancing.’
‘It’s a shame I can’t talk you into it, because it’ll be fun,’ she said, ‘but I’ll take the offer of manning a stall, for however much time you can spare. Thank you.’
‘Are you dancing?’ he asked, suddenly curious.
‘Absolutely. You’d never get me running or struggling to lift stuff in the gym, because that doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest,’ she said, ‘but I do a couple of dance classes a week and I walk my neighbour’s dog at weekends. That’s my preferred way of keeping fit.’
He should back off. It was none of his business. And he wasn’t supposed to start being interested in someone else. This was work. But he couldn’t stop the question coming out. ‘What sort of dance classes?’
‘Salsa on Tuesdays and Latin ballroom dancing on Thursdays. I’m not elegant enough to do the waltz or the foxtrot,’ she explained, ‘but I love dancing the samba and the cha-cha-cha.’
The fun and bouncy stuff. That didn’t surprise him. From what he’d seen of her so far, that summed up Jenna Harris very neatly. ‘So was the danceathon your idea?’
‘Guilty as charged.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘But everyone else on the committee said it sounded like a lot of fun, or we wouldn’t have done it.’
‘OK. Count me in for helping on a stall,’ he said. And then his mouth ran away with him. He was supposed to be keeping things professional and slightly distant, not putting himself in a position where he’d see more of her. But the words came out anyway. ‘I can help set up, too, if you like.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled at him. ‘And maybe I can talk you into just one dance.’
‘Maybe. No promises,’ he warned.
‘Sure.’ Her smile broadened, which told him she had every intention of breaking down his resistance.
Well
, she had no chance there. His intentions were stronger still: to keep a professional distance between himself and Jenna. Yes, she was attractive and he liked her very much—but he wasn’t risking his heart again. As far as he was concerned, they were strictly colleagues.
‘I guess we ought to get back,’ he said. ‘Thank you for lunch.’
‘My pleasure. And thank you for agreeing to help with the danceathon.’
‘Prego,’ he said, inclining his head. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘If only you’d joined us a month ago. I bet you could’ve charmed a ton of money out of everyone who walked through the hospital doors by smiling at them and speaking in Italian. You would’ve been our secret weapon.’ She looked at him with narrowed eyes. ‘Would you be good at general knowledge, by any chance?’
‘I’m reasonable,’ he said.
‘You’re polite, so I’m guessing you’re understating your talents because you don’t want to boast about how good you are. Right. That settles it. I’m co-opting you onto our departmental quiz team, too.’
‘You,’ he said, ‘are scary. All that sweet, sweet smile, baby-blue eyes and butter-wouldn’t-melt expression—but you’ve got everyone organised and agreeing to things before they even have time to blink, haven’t you?’
‘Jenna the hustler—that’s me,’ she said, looking totally unrepentant. ‘If I could actually play pool, I’d make gazillions out of unwary punters and we’d have the best-equipped paediatric department in the country.’
He couldn’t help laughing. Even though he wanted to keep her at a distance, her warmth, her charm and her sheer chutzpah were irresistible. He would’ve liked to find something about her that wiped out that pull of attraction. But even her bossiness had a charm to it. She was nice. He’d have to rely on the determination that had got him through the miserable months when his marriage imploded, and keep things professional between them. ‘I have a feeling you’re going to get a ton of money out of your danceathon. And I bet you’ll drive a hard bargain with a toy shop afterwards.’
‘Cost price, that’s what I’m after,’ she said. ‘So if you know someone with contacts to a wholesaler or a toy shop, I’m all ears.’
‘Sorry. I can’t help with that one.’
‘That’s OK. You’re helping me set up, you’re manning a stall for a bit, and you agreed to one dance. That’ll do nicely.’
Lorenzo was pretty sure he hadn’t actually agreed to one dance. But he was equally sure that Jenna wasn’t going to let him get away with it. ‘Let’s get back to the ward,’ he said. Where he’d be able to focus on work, and have the space to damp down the unexpected feelings that were threatening to turn him upside down.
CHAPTER TWO
‘OH, NOW, THAT smells fabulous,’ Jenna said, walking into the kitchen and hugging her twin. ‘Tell me that’s your lasagne cooking in the oven, Lu.’
‘It is.’ Lucy hugged her back. ‘It’ll be ready in twenty minutes. Grab a glass of wine. Will’s in the living room with his nose in a book. How was your day?’
‘Fine.’ Jenna poured herself half a glass of wine. ‘The new senior reg started today.’
‘What’s he or she like?’
‘He’s nice. Robert asked me to look after him in the PAU today.’
Lucy smiled. ‘Because you, my dear sister, are brilliant at tucking new people under your wing.’
‘Because I had a good example to follow in the best primary school teacher ever,’ Jenna pointed out, and lifted her glass in a toast. ‘So how was your day?’
‘Fine. Ava spent the whole day chatting.’
Jenna grinned. ‘That’s because she takes after her aunt.’
‘Strictly speaking—’ Lucy began.
‘I’m her aunt,’ Jenna said firmly. ‘Lu, we’ve been through this enough times. In every way, Ava is your and Will’s daughter. All I did was lend you my womb for a few months—which I know you would have done for me if our situations had been the other way round.’
‘Of course I would.’ Lucy bit her lip. ‘Though the egg was yours, too.’
‘And, as we’re identical twins, that means our genes are the same, so my egg is exactly the same as yours would’ve been,’ Jenna reminded her. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Ava’s biologically yours, as well as legally and morally.’
Their friends and family—apart from one notable exception—had all been supportive about the surrogate pregnancy, but Jenna knew Lucy felt guilty about it. And usually Lucy’s doubts came to the surface when someone had upset her on the subject. ‘Has someone said something to you?’ she asked gently.
‘No—well, yes,’ Lucy admitted.
‘I hope you told them to walk a mile in your shoes and learn a few facts before they give you any more of their uninformed opinions.’
Lucy winced. ‘It’s my fault. The subject of surrogacy came up at toddler group. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.’
‘You have nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, your story might actually help someone who’s struggling with the same issues you went through, and could see that there might just be a light for them, too, at the end of the tunnel.’ Jenna sighed. ‘But we seem to live in an age where everyone thinks their opinion is more valid than anyone else’s, and they don’t consider anyone else’s feelings before they open their mouths.’ Someone had clearly hectored her sister on the subject of surrogate babies. Jenna would’ve quite liked a serious chat with whoever had been so thoughtless, so she could put them very straight on the subject—and then shake them very hard until their teeth rattled.
‘I guess.’
Jenna frowned. ‘Lu, you know Ava’s yours.’ Had Lucy not been in a serious car crash which had ruptured her womb and damaged both her ovaries, five years ago, she wouldn’t have needed an emergency hysterectomy at the age of twenty-seven, putting an end to any hope of having her own children naturally.
‘I know.’
Jenna’s frown deepened. ‘Please tell me whoever it was didn’t say something as vile as Danny did.’
‘No-o.’
Which meant they had and Lucy didn’t want to admit it. Jenna put her glass on the worktop and hugged her twin. ‘Listen to me, you numpty. I love Will dearly, but purely as a brother. I don’t fancy him and I never have. He doesn’t fancy me, either. He’d drive me absolutely crackers if I had to live with him and all his vague professor stuff—just as I’d drive him crackers by bossing him around and organising him down to the last second instead of letting him get away with it, the way you do. And I love you more than anyone else in the world, Lu. I offered to be your surrogate because I was the one person who could actually make things right again after the adoption agency turned you and Will down. I hated seeing you with a broken heart and I desperately wanted to be able to help you. Just as you would’ve done, if it had been me in your shoes. And you already know all that, Lu, so I don’t know why I need to tell you again.’
Lucy swallowed hard. ‘I know.’
‘So please don’t listen to some over-opinionated, thoughtless woman who clearly doesn’t have a clue what it’s like to be in that situation or care how she makes other people feel.’
Lucy swallowed hard. ‘But I do feel guilty, Jen. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be married to Danny by now.’
‘And we’d probably be divorced,’ Jenna pointed out dryly. ‘Marrying him would’ve been a huge mistake.’
Lucy frowned. ‘Would it? Because I worry that you’re lonely.’
‘I don’t need a partner to have a fulfilling life,’ Jenna said firmly. She wasn’t going to admit to her twin in a million years that yes, sometimes she did feel lonely, when she woke at three in the morning and couldn’t sleep. ‘And I definitely don’t need a partner who’s going to issue ultimatums every time I suggest something that doesn’t fit in with his world view. Any man who asks me to choose between him and you is going
to lose—every single time.’ She sang a snatch from the old song ‘Sisters’, just to emphasise the point, and hugged Lucy again. ‘Danny lacked compassion. If anything, you did me a favour, because his reaction to the surrogacy is what made me finally realise that he saw everything in terms of financial cost.’
‘But being our surrogate lost you your relationship.’
‘Which wouldn’t have worked in the long run, believe me. I don’t want to be with someone who puts a price on everything and can’t see any value if it can’t be counted in cash. That isn’t how I see things, and that kind of attitude makes me really unhappy. Marrying Danny would’ve been a disaster.’
‘With the IVF treatment and the pregnancy, it cost you a year out of your career,’ Lucy persisted.
‘Which I can make up.’
‘And it hit your earnings.’
That had been one of Danny’s biggest arguments, and Jenna had despised him for it. Some things were way, way more important than money. Like her sister’s happiness. Family. Love. ‘I really don’t care about the money, Lu. I had savings, and you and Will helped out with my rent. We managed just fine. It isn’t an issue.’
‘You’ve got an answer for everything, haven’t you?’ Lucy asked with a sigh.
‘Yup. So, oh, best sister in the world, try to stop worrying about it and let me go and take a peek at my gorgeous niece—and I promise not to wake her.’
‘I love you,’ Lucy said.
‘I love you, too,’ Jenna said with a smile.
She tiptoed upstairs and crept into the nursery; Ava was fast asleep in her cot, with her hands thrown back over her head, looking totally angelic. Although Jenna had given birth to the baby, she’d always considered Ava as being Lucy’s, not hers. And the love she felt for Ava wasn’t that of a mother: it was that of a doting aunt. Which was just how it should be, in her view.
‘Sleep tight, my beautiful niece,’ she whispered, and tiptoed out of the nursery.
* * *
Back down in the kitchen, Will had joined Lucy and greeted Jenna with a hug.