Practice Makes Pregnant Page 3

  She canceled a lunch date with a co-worker and went to the pharmacy instead, returning with the kit concealed in a plain brown bag tucked into her purse. The afternoon hours dragged by, the hour hand on her watch moving slowly toward 5:00 p.m.

  The hum of activity in the office grew louder with end-of-the-day preparations, drawers opening and slamming shut, files being dropped into the return-to-shelf basket.

  “Don’t work too late, Allison.”

  Allison lifted her head to find her boss, Eloise Vale, standing in her office doorway, her purse slung over one shoulder and a leather briefcase in her hand.

  “I won’t.”

  “Good. You spend too many late nights in the office,” Eloise chided, her smile affectionate.

  “Not tonight. I promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Eloise glanced at her watch. “Oh, drat. I’m going to be late. Bye.”

  Allison called a good-night as Eloise whisked off down the hall. She forced herself to wait until all sounds had ceased, until the last slam of desk drawers being closed and cheery good-nights were followed by the closing of the outer door. Then she made herself wait another ten minutes in case one of her office mates had forgotten something and might return to their desks.

  At last, reassured by the absence of human activity in the silent outer office, she picked up her purse and left her office for the community bathroom.

  The room was silent. Allison pushed open the doors to the three empty stalls to verify that she was alone before dropping her purse on to the marble-topped vanity. A crystal vase with a bouquet of spicy, white carnations, lush pink roses and delicate white baby’s breath brightened one corner of the gray marble countertop that held two sinks with porcelain fittings. Recessed lamps cast a soft light in front of the long mirror that took up the entire wall above the vanity.

  Allison drew in a deep breath, flipped open her purse and closed her fingers over the brown-bag-enclosed test kit.

  The door flew open with a bang. She jumped, startled, and spun to find the white-haired janitor, who looked every bit as surprised as Allison felt.

  “Oh, my goodness!” The janitor’s hand flew to his heart and he audibly caught his breath. “I’m sorry, ma’am—I didn’t know anyone was here. I’ll come back later….”

  “No.” Allison curved her lips upward in a stiff smile. “No, I’m finished.”

  She edged her way past the elderly man and his cart of cleaning supplies and walked back down the hall to her office. Leaving the door open wide, she sat at her desk and turned on her computer, staring blindly at the glowing screen. The minutes seemed to crawl by. At last she heard the rattle of the cart as the janitor left the rest room and moved off down the hall. Allison forced herself to wait until the sound of wastebaskets clattering against the trash can ceased, until the music from the portable radio clipped to the wheeled cart faded, until the outer door to the offices clicked shut. Silence reigned once more.

  Allison picked up her purse and crossed to the doorway, peering cautiously out into the hall. Nothing stirred. For the second time, she left her office and moved quickly down the hall to the rest room. She flipped on the lights, crossed to the vanity and pulled out the test kit.

  Scant moments later she stared at the stick. There were two little windows, one a little circle, the other a little square. Both of them had a pink line. The test result was positive.

  I’m pregnant.

  She couldn’t stop staring at the pink lines in their small windows. In an unconsciously protective gesture, her hand lifted to rest on the flat plane of her abdomen.

  Her gaze followed the movement of her hand, searching for any change in her body beneath her fingers.

  Nothing. She looked just as she always did.

  She wondered frantically if she could ignore the pregnancy.

  Oh, right. That’s a great plan. The functioning, practical side of her brain scoffed at the ridiculous idea.

  Her gaze lifted and she stared at her reflection, dazed, her stunned mind struggling to grasp the fact that in eight months she would give birth.

  She had to have a plan. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, overwhelmed by the concept of the tiny life growing inside her. How would she cope with a baby? She didn’t know anything about being a mother. And how could she work at the office all day, go to school at night and still have time to care for a child? But how would she support them if she didn’t finish law school? The barrage of scattered, panicked questions hit her like a tidal wave until she felt light-headed.

  She braced her palms on the vanity edge and bent forward to lower her head. Her hair swung forward to brush against her cheeks, and she closed her eyes until the dizziness passed.

  At last she opened her eyes and cautiously lifted her head, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. The soft lighting was kind, but there was no denying that her cheeks were pale, her eyes dark and bruised looking. Feeling faintly nauseated, Allison ran trembling fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face.

  I can’t make decisions now, she acknowledged. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was keeping this baby. Determination firmed her chin and once again, she smoothed her palm over her flat tummy. She’d give herself a few days to think about all the probabilities, then make choices and plans.

  In the meantime, she thought, she’d have to conceal her worry from her darling, but very snoopy, boss. Eloise had sharp eyes and was genuinely interested in the well-being of all her employees at Manhattan Multiples. Allison knew that she would have to be very good at hiding her distraction. She only hoped that she would have a few weeks before her growing tummy became so obvious that Eloise guessed her secret.

  The same day that Allison was struggling to come to terms with the shocking confirmation of her pregnancy, Jorge worked late at the office and returned to his apartment after 10:00 p.m.

  He stopped in the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door to grab a bottle of water before heading down the dark hall to the second bedroom that he’d converted into an office. Dropping his briefcase and suit jacket on the leather recliner, he crossed to the desk, switched on the lamp, and pushed the on button for the laptop computer sitting atop the polished mahogany. While he waited for it to boot up, he opened the water bottle and drank as he picked up messages from the fax machine. Halfway through the small stack of paper, he halted, his attention captured by the distinctive letterhead of the Bretton Detective Agency. He dropped the rest of the papers back into the fax machine tray, a fierce surge of anticipation flooding him as he quickly read the body of the message.

  The Bretton detective had found her. The black-and-white copy of the faxed photo attached to the letter was grainy, but there was no question that the woman glancing over her shoulder as she entered a shop was Allison Baker. And she not only lived across town, she worked in the city.

  Jorge glanced at the clock and muttered a curse. It was too late to appear on her doorstep.

  But he had her work address. He’d see her tomorrow.

  “Manhattan Multiples.” He wondered briefly what the company did. The detective’s report listed the company name and Allison’s job title as personal assistant, but there was no indication as to what type of business Manhattan Multiples was engaged in.

  He jotted a quick note to the detective agency confirming that the photo was indeed the Allison Baker he wanted to find and requested a final bill.

  He knew the search was going to be expensive, but finding Allison was worth whatever it cost. He could have asked the police detective assigned to the district attorney’s office to run a search for her, but to do so would have required him to explain why he wanted her located. And he wasn’t willing to tell anyone that spending one night with the elusive redhead had left him craving her so badly that he was willing to turn the city upside down in order to see her again.

  And when I see her, he thought grimly, she’s going to explain why she ran away and left me alone in that damn hotel room w
ithout saying goodbye or leaving me a note. How the hell did she think he was going to see her again?

  Probably because she didn’t want to see me again.

  The knowledge ate at him, corrosive as acid. Despite the likelihood that Allison hadn’t planned to ever contact him, Jorge couldn’t let it go. He’d felt something rare and powerful that night. Until she told him face-to-face that she hadn’t felt it, too, he wasn’t giving up.

  Chapter Two

  The morning after her positive pregnancy test, Allison was at her desk at the usual hour. Instead of downing her customary mug of coffee, however, she frowned at the steaming black brew and slowly returned the mug to her desk, untouched.

  Was it safe for the baby if she drank coffee with caffeine?

  She had no idea.

  She’d buy some books at lunch and research prenatal care. She moved the mug of coffee to the far corner of her desk, gave it one last, longing glance and flipped open a personnel file.

  “Good morning, Allison.”

  Allison looked up. Eloise stood in the doorway, a steaming cup in one hand and a sheaf of papers in the other.

  “Good morning, Eloise.” She watched her boss glance up and down the hallway before moving quickly to the chair opposite her desk. The older woman’s air of suppressed excitement roused Allison’s curiosity. “What is it?”

  “Someone on my staff is pregnant.”

  Allison felt her eyes widen. She was incapable of speech. For a long, fraught moment, all she could do was stare at Eloise.

  “Pregnant?” she finally managed. “What makes you think one of the staff is pregnant?”

  Eloise leaned forward, her excitement palpable. “I found a used pregnancy kit in the staff bathroom this morning and the stick had a positive reading.”

  “Oh.” Frantically, Allison tried to remember if she’d forgotten anything else in the ladies rest room besides the pregnancy kit. How could she have been so careless? Had she left anything else that would lead Eloise to her?

  “I can’t imagine who it could be, can you?”

  Fortunately for Allison, Eloise didn’t pause long enough for an answer.

  “It can’t be Leah, because she’s already pregnant.” Her lips pursed as she paused, clearly considering the rest of her staff. “Where to start, that’s the question. We must have nearly twenty employees at the moment, don’t we?”

  “Yes, if we count part-time as well as full-time staff.”

  “Hmmm.” Eloise tapped the tip of one elegant, manicured nail against her chin. “I’m determined to find out who among us is pregnant.”

  “I’m sure you’ll know soon. It’s not likely that a pregnancy can be concealed for long, is it?” Allison asked.

  “That’s true. Still, it’s a mystery, and you know how I feel about mysteries.”

  “Yes, I do.” Despite her worry, Allison couldn’t help smiling with affection at Eloise, who was animated with curiosity. I need a diversion, something to refocus Eloise’s attention. She glanced at the file on her desk. “Speaking of mysteries, are my eyes deceiving me, or did you hire twins as our new security guards?”

  “I did.”

  “How did you find them? And however are we going to tell them apart?”

  Eloise laughed. She stood and leaned across the desk to look at the photos clipped to the two new personnel files that Allison was assembling. “I suppose we’ll have to make name tags so we can tell which one is Tony Martino and which is his brother, Frank. They’re great-looking guys, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they are.” Allison thought that “great-looking” didn’t adequately do justice to the pair of well-muscled, black-haired, brown-eyed brothers. They looked like definite heartbreakers. “Which brother is working day shift?”

  “Tony. And Frank will work nights. Actually, that will help solve the problem of knowing which brother we’re talking to, since they won’t be working during the same hours.”

  “True.” The phone rang and Allison answered it, listened a moment, then held the receiver out to Eloise. “It’s for you. Leah says it’s the federal grant writer you’ve been trying to reach.”

  “At last! The file is on my desk, ask Leah to transfer the call, will you please?” Eloise barely waited for Allison’s nod before she turned and hurried out the door.

  Allison relayed her request to the receptionist and drew a deep breath of relief as the door closed behind her boss.

  That was a close call. How could she have been so careless as to leave the test kit in the bathroom? She propped her elbows on the desktop and covered her face with her hands. Thank goodness her boss didn’t seem to give a thought to the possibility that she might be the mysterious pregnant person.

  The quick rap of knuckles on her office door startled her, and Allison sat bolt upright, running a quick, smoothing hand over her hair.

  “Yes?”

  The door opened and Leah Simpson appeared, her very round, thoroughly pregnant midsection preceding her over the threshold.

  “There’s someone here to see you, Allison.”

  “There is?” Allison checked her calendar, but no name was jotted in the current time slot. “I don’t have any appointments scheduled this morning. Who is it?”

  Leah rolled her eyes and pretended to fan herself with one hand. Beneath her blond hair, her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “He wouldn’t give me his name.”

  “Why not?”

  “He said he wanted to surprise you.”

  Curiouser and curiouser. “What does he look like?” She stood, flipping the page of her calendar to verify that she hadn’t inadvertently noted an appointment on the wrong day.

  “He’s tall, over six feet, great body, black hair, brown eyes,” Leah recited. “And he’s sexy as sin.”

  Allison’s world stood still. It can’t be him. It just couldn’t be true that Jorge Perez was in the outer office expecting to see her. Not today, of all days.

  “Allison? Should I show him in?”

  Before Allison could think of a reason to say no, the deep, molasses-smooth male voice that she’d been hearing in her dreams for the past four weeks, answered for her.

  “No need, I’ll show myself in.”

  Jorge appeared in the doorway just behind Leah. Allison would have groaned aloud if she’d been capable of making any noise at all. She was so stunned to see him, however, that all she could do was stare, speechless, held immobile by his intense gaze.

  She was barely aware that Leah quickly excused herself, so focused was she on Jorge. He looked away, stepping aside to allow Leah to exit and flashing the charming smile that transformed his face from remote to irresistible. Allison’s heart clenched, the sheer, helpless pleasure of seeing him again made painful by the knowledge that she’d bolted from his bed and hotel room without saying goodbye. It was really not a good excuse that she was totally unschooled in the proper etiquette of handling the morning after great sex and that she’d simply panicked. He had every right to be annoyed with her.

  In the few short moments that his attention was diverted by Leah, she indulged herself by openly staring, absorbing all the small details about him. He was just as devastating in a dark-gray tailored suit, white shirt and tie as he had been in formal evening clothes at the fund-raiser. His shoulders were just as broad; his skin equally tanned against the white of his shirt collar; and his black hair shone with the sheen of a raven’s wing under the office lighting.

  He closed the door and turned to face her. Allison gathered her dignity around her like a cloak and faced him with what she hoped was calm.

  Jorge thought he’d be elated to see Allison, but the surge of fierce emotion that he felt at first sight of her was quickly replaced by a wave of anger just as powerful.

  “Hello, Allison.”

  “Hello, Jorge.”

  “You’re looking well.” Better than well, he thought, temper rising. She was damn near glowing. It was obvious that she hadn’t been spending sleepless nigh
ts wondering where he was. Unlike him, wondering about her. And unlike him, she was too damn cool about seeing him after four long weeks.

  “Thank you,” she answered gravely. “So are you.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped away from the door, looking around to survey the room. “Nice office.”

  “Thank you,” she said again. “What are you doing here, Jorge?”

  She sounded genuinely bewildered. He didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered. He raised a brow. “I only recently learned where you worked, and since I had an appointment in the neighborhood, decided to drop by and say hello.”

  “Oh.” She lifted a hand in unconscious appeal, then dropped her hand to her side. “I…”

  He caught a glimpse of small white teeth as she bit her lip with indecision. Good, he thought savagely. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one unsure of myself.

  He deliberately stared at her. Beginning at the silky crown of her head, his gaze moved lower, then slowly back up again. Gone was the passionate woman in the sexy black dress. In her place was a calm, cool woman in a tailored, caramel-colored suit, the neat white blouse she wore beneath the jacket buttoned demurely to her throat. Her hair, though, was the same vibrant shade of auburn, and her creamy skin glowed.

  He frowned. Now that he looked more closely, he could see faint, bluish circles beneath her eyes, the gold depths darker, shadowed.

  Probably with guilt for running out on me after she spent the night.

  She shifted under his gaze, a faint pink tinting her cheeks, and he realized that he’d been standing motionless, silently staring at her for far too long. He tore his gaze from her face and glanced around the room. A group of framed photos hung on the wall nearest her desk, and he moved closer to study them.

  “Friends of yours?” The older couple in the center photograph was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen them before.

  “My parents, actually.”

  “Mmm.” The couple was featured in all of the photos, he realized. And he easily recognized the film, stage and political heavyweights that shared the shots. Comprehension dawned and he looked at Allison. “Baker? Your parents are Stephen and Marguerite Baker, the film producers?”