The Baby Plan: A Second Chance Romance Read online

  “Do you understand the process? Do you have any questions?” I asked her, trying to remember my usual spiel.

  She nodded her head again. “Yes, I understand. My doctor explained it in depth and felt I was a good candidate. I’ve read you have a, uh, you know, a bank,” she said shyly.

  “Yes. We have a bank of donor sperm. You will need to fill out some forms, and then our specialist can match you with a donor that meets your needs.”

  She was blushing prettily. It was odd to be talking about her getting pregnant by a complete stranger.

  “I’m not picky,” she muttered. “I just want a healthy baby.”

  She sounded like so many of my patients. She was desperate for a child. It hurt me to know she was in this position. If I could go back and change the past, I would.

  “All our donors undergo a rigorous health check as well as a mental health screening,” I assured her.

  She nodded her head and seemed to be getting more comfortable with the idea. “Good. I’m excited to get started.”

  “Great. Well, we’ll need to get you started on some medicine that ups your hormones and improves your odds of conceiving,” I explained.

  “That’s fine. I’m ready.”

  I began to explain the process and the possibility that it may not work.

  “I understand all that. I’m willing to try a few rounds. I have the money to pay for it,” she said, frustration in her voice.

  “Okay. That’s good. We should know within about two weeks of the first insemination appointment if it worked. If it doesn’t, we try again the following month.”

  “I’m divorced,” she blurted out.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not exactly sure why she’d said it.

  “I want a baby. I had a miscarriage about three months ago, and then I caught my husband cheating on me. I’m divorced, but I want a baby. I don’t want a husband or a father for my baby.”

  I nodded. Her story was not all that unique. I had heard it before, and I was used to these emotional outbursts in my office. It was why we had developed these rooms. People who visited our clinic were at a low point in their lives and desperate for a child.

  “I’m very sorry to hear that, Lara. Really, I am,” I told her. I reached out to take her hand in sympathy but decided against it. “I’m not here to judge you or your decision. I want to help. You are in the right place. We have excellent success rates. If this option doesn’t work, don’t give up. We can try IVF.”

  “Thank you. Yes, I am familiar with that as well.”

  I chuckled. “I’m glad to have a patient who is so well-informed. It makes my job easier! It is a more invasive procedure, but it has excellent success, especially for a healthy woman.”

  She seemed to relax a bit more. I was convinced I was more stressed than she was. Seeing her was wreaking havoc on my emotions. I hated feeling anything. My history with her was not the best. Seeing her reminded me of nothing but pain and heartache. That pain had shaped me into the man I was today. While I was proud of my professional success, I had never been good at relationships. I was destined to be a bachelor.

  “How’s Brian doing?” I asked, wondering if her brother knew what she was doing.

  It wasn’t technically any of his business, but the two used to be close.

  “He’s good. I assumed you two still talked. He doesn’t know about this. You can’t tell him!”

  “Lara, I wouldn’t. I am your doctor. We have doctor-patient confidentiality, and I wouldn’t. This is your story to tell, not mine. If you are more comfortable with having someone else oversee your case, I can put in for that request. Truth be told, I do very little of the actual hands-on care. If you are uncomfortable at all, just say the word,” I said, secretly hoping she would.

  I wasn’t sure if I could maintain a professional distance. Seeing her was making me a little crazy.

  “I’m okay with this for now. Let’s see how it goes.”

  “Okay. Well, here’s the information about the process as well as what to expect from the medication and procedures. Junie has set you up with appointments for a checkup and then, based on your cycle, your insemination date. If anything changes, it is important you call us right away,” I said.

  She nodded her head. “I understand. I will. Thank you for helping me. I know this is a little weird, but this place was at the top of the list. I really didn’t know you worked here.”

  “It’s fine. It was a long time ago. We are adults, and what happened when we were kids doesn’t matter now,” I said, saying the words with more commitment than I felt.

  “Thank you.”

  She stood, and I opened the door to let her out. Once she was down the hall, I shut the door and released the pent-up breath I had been holding.

  “Shit,” I breathed out.

  That had been awful. What the fuck? How in the hell was I going to be her doctor? I was supposed to take a clinical approach to impregnating the woman who had captured my heart so many years ago and pretend it didn’t bother me. I didn’t see that happening.

  Sappy feelings irritated me. I hated feeling hurt or sad over what had never happened. I needed a way to quiet all those feelings. Drugs and alcohol had worked during my college years, but now I couldn’t drown my sorrows that way. I had a better coping method. It was the next cardinal sin—sex. Lots of sex with women I didn’t love. That was how I made it through life now. It wiped away the memory of Lara and those stupid emotions that tended to pop up whenever I thought about her.

  I didn’t do emotions and all that nonsense. Nope. Fucking random women was my therapy. I yanked open the lounge door and stomped back to my office. I needed my cell phone to make a very personal call.

  Chapter 3

  Lara

  Oh. My. God.

  Could the earth open up and swallow me whole? Please. I was a good person. This kind of punishment felt unfair. First my baby. Then my husband. Then I run into the man who stole my virginity and my heart and then stomped all over it. Clearly, I had pissed off the fates. I was being punished. I needed to do more charity work or rescue animals, something to earn me some good points.

  I managed to keep my cool until I opened the doors to leave the clinic. Once the air hit me, I took a deep breath and released it. My life was going to hell in a hurry. I headed down the sidewalk, pretending I was totally fine. I mean, who didn’t go to the guy who stole their virginity and then broke their heart to be inseminated with some random stranger’s sperm? Totally, normal.

  I made my way to the parking lot, got in my car, and sat inside with the car running. I rubbed my face and instantly remembered I hadn’t bothered with makeup.

  Oh god.

  Not only had I seen my ex, but I had seen him when I looked like total shit. Yep, I had pissed off the cosmos. Way to kick a girl when she was down.

  Memories of Mason and me sneaking around flooded my head. He had been the boy on his way to college at the end of the summer, and I had been the young and foolish teenage girl enamored with an older boy. He had been Brian’s best friend, and I, like many little sisters, had had a serious crush on my brother’s friend.

  I smiled, remembering how he would pretend to leave and sneak out back to meet me for stolen kisses. And then there had been the night he stole so much more: my virginity. He had promised to wait for me. We were supposed to be together forever. He would be a doctor, and I could do whatever I dreamed.

  My phone rang. When I looked down, I saw it was Kali. I cleared my throat and took a cleansing breath.

  “Hi,” I said in what I hoped was a friendly voice.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I laughed. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Because I can hear it in your voice. What happened? What did the doctor say?”

  “Not much. I have my appointments set for the next month, and I start on the drugs that make me extra fertile right away.”

  She was silent for a few seconds, giving me time to talk. When I didn’t, she jumpe
d back in. “Are you upset because you are actually doing this, or did something happen?” she asked softly.

  I sighed. “This is going to sound ridiculous, but I know the doctor.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?”

  I shrugged, knowing she couldn’t see the action but not able to speak.

  “Lara? Are you sure you want to do this? You are only thirty-six. You still have some time. Maybe give yourself a few months to get past this divorce nonsense.”

  “No. I want a baby. I’ve wanted a baby for the past six years. It isn’t that. The doctor is a—well, I don’t know what he is. But he is the guy who took my virginity when I was sixteen and then never called me again.”

  “Oh.”

  “He promised he would marry me, and I was so stupid and naïve that I had actually believed him.” I groaned. “Now I had to face him and ask him to get me pregnant with a turkey baster.”

  She laughed. “I don’t think it’s quite like that, but I bet he feels like an asshole for taking advantage of you. You’re a beautiful woman. It’s his loss. I hate to say it, my dear, but he is not the first, nor will he be the last, guy to make empty promises to get into a girl’s pants.”

  I started laughing. It sounded ridiculous once I said it out loud.

  “I’m losing my mind,” I muttered.

  “No, you aren’t. That would be kind of awkward. I get it. Can you get a different doctor?”

  “I could, and he offered, but he won’t be doing any of the actual inseminating. The place is very high-end. They have specialists in every department. He will oversee my care. Basically, he gets paid the big bucks to sit back and direct traffic. It was mortifying,” I whined.

  She laughed. “Gee, you don’t want to ask your ex to stick some stranger’s sperm up your vagina? That’s totally normal.”

  That made me laugh. It was one of those situations you never believed could happen, but here I was dealing with the unthinkable.

  “I must have pissed off fate. There can be no other explanation.”

  “Oh, hon, I’m sorry. Just think, when you are holding that baby in your arms next year, all of this will be something you can look back on and laugh. Hang in there. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Relax. Take a bubble bath, read a book, or binge-watch something on Netflix. I can handle the store. I’ll call in Beth to help out.”

  I sighed. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. You need to take some time. This place isn’t going anywhere. You hired me to be your assistant. Let me assist you.”

  “Okay. I’m going to—if you’re sure it’s okay.”

  She started laughing. “I’m sure! Now, go home. Stop and pick up a bottle of wine and some yummy chocolates. Pamper yourself. Pretty soon that isn’t going to be possible. Do it now while you can before you have a baby screaming at you for something,” she teased.

  “Thank you, Kali. You’re amazing.”

  “I know,” she said and ended the call.

  I felt a little better knowing I didn’t have to go in and face pregnant women and pretend I wasn’t jealous. I could go home and wallow in my self-pity. Fun.

  I pulled into the parking area of my building.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Brown,” one of the staff members said with a friendly smile.

  “Gene, I am officially Miss McCall,” I said with a wink.

  “Good to hear, Miss McCall.”

  We shared a laugh, and I headed for the elevator that would take me to the fifteenth floor. Gene had been sympathetic to my situation from the very beginning. I had felt like such an idiot in those first few days after I’d found out Mitchel had been bringing women to our apartment. I’d initially been angry that none of the staff had said anything, but I knew they were bound to keep their tenants’ privacy.

  I opened the door to the condo I had shared with Mitchel for too long. As I stepped inside, I took in my surroundings through fresh eyes. It was so cold and industrial. It didn’t feel like a home that welcomed you in. It wasn’t a home I could see a baby growing up in.

  “Color!” I blurted out as I shut the door and took in all the grey, white, and stainless steel that surrounded me.

  The only spot of color in the room was the navy-blue wingback chair. I walked over and flopped down on it. It was the last thing my father had given me before he’d died. He had said I needed some color in my life. Mitchel had argued with me about putting the chair in the living room, but I’d insisted. He had claimed it didn’t match our décor—a décor that was bland and lacking life.

  I needed color, some pizazz. For so long I had lived in a world without color or excitement because that was what Mitchel had told me to do. I was tired of being his doormat. I had wasted too many years living for him and losing myself. I was taking back my life. The condo was mine. My father had given us the initial investment, and because I had been willing to let Mitchel have his business (with an alimony check every month), I’d gotten to keep the condo.

  It was mine to do with as I pleased. And color pleased me.

  I sprang out of the chair and walked to my bedroom, threw open the door to my huge walk-in closet, and dug around in the drawers at the back. Mitchel hated my lounging around clothes. Normal people called them jeans. He found them to be below our station and forbade me from ever wearing them. I pulled out the jeans I had tucked away and pulled them on. They still fit.

  I found a short-sleeve T-shirt from a charity event I had participated in and pulled it on. My only casual shoes were the Nikes I wore for working out in the gym. They would have to do.

  I took a quick look in the closet mirror and felt about ten years younger. I was tired of dressing like an executive day in and day out. I wanted fun and carefree.

  I wasn’t afraid to go out in public like this either. I grabbed my purse and headed out the front door.

  “You look like you are ready for some fun, Miss McCall,” Gene said with a wink.

  “I am. I’m going out for some paint, Gene. Don’t tell the HOA, but I am getting rid of all those cold greys. I need some color in my life.”

  “Good for you. I personally like blue,” he said with a chuckle.

  I nodded my head. “Me too. Blues and golds and greens.”

  “Bye.” He waved as I bounded out the doors and headed down the road.

  I was on a mission, a mission to bring some life back into my world via paint. I didn’t care what the HOA said. I technically owned part of the damn building. My investment in the building was smaller, but it was still there. It wasn’t like anyone popped up to the top floor for a visit anyway. Screw them and their stuffy rules. I was a free woman.

  I raised my arms into the air and felt free. It was an amazing feeling. Divorce made some people sad, but it made me feel as if I had been given a new lease on life.

  When I walked into the paint store, the customer service representative took one look at me and knew I was ripe for the picking. I had a Visa, and I was ready to use it.

  “How can I help you?” he asked.

  “I want a lot of paint. I want bold, vibrant colors, but I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for.”

  He nodded his head excitedly. “Grays are all the rage right now.”

  “No!” I said a little too forcefully. “I have gray. I want bright. I want eccentric. I want bold.”

  “Okay. We can do that. Let’s start by looking at a few schemes. You tell me what you like, and we’ll go from there.”

  “Sounds great! I love blues and greens and even gold.”

  The man looked at me slightly horrified. “Gold?”

  “Not nineteen-seventies or eighties gold, but something warm that compliments the darker blues and greens I want,” I explained.

  “Okay, well, I am sure we will find a beautiful combination that works for you. What room are you going to be painting?”

  I smiled. “All of them.”

  His eyes lit up, and I could practically see the dollar signs spinning in them. “Oh m
y. You are an ambitious woman. Well, let’s get you set up!”

  He showed me various color schemes on a small computer to give me an idea of the “real life” look, but he cautioned that it always looked different once a person brought it home.

  “If I don’t like it, I can simply repaint, right?” I said when he went through the whole spiel about trying various samples on the wall before I started painting.

  I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to paint now. Because I was ordering so much and purchasing all the rollers and supplies in the store, they were kind enough to offer to deliver it to my condo free of charge. I hadn’t thought about that when I’d walked here. I’d forgotten how heavy a gallon of paint could be.

  Chapter 4

  Mason

  Would it be weird? I didn’t know. I felt like it would be strange if I picked up the phone and called Brian after all these years. I couldn’t even remember the last time we had talked. I knew it was sometime after we’d graduated college. Then it was as if we’d faded out of each other’s lives.

  I was guessing it was at least ten years, probably more, since I had seen him. No, strike that. I had seen him plenty. He was a local celebrity. I had seen his face on the news and on the various billboards and benches around town, but I hadn’t spoken to him in more than a decade.

  Hence my problem. Was it totally weird to call him out of the blue? No. Not call. Text.

  “Argh!” I groaned in frustration.

  Why was this so hard? I wanted to call an old friend. I didn’t want to ask him out on a date. I wanted to check in. Seeing Lara had reminded me of the good times. Brian and I had been inseparable. He had been more like a brother to me, and then one day it seemed like he was gone.

  Fuck it.

  I dialed the number I had managed to steal off Lara’s chart. If he asked, I would say a mutual friend had given it to me.

  “Brian!” I said when he answered the phone.

  “Yes?” he asked, confusion in his voice.

  “Brian, it’s Mason. Mason Chambers.”