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The Fertility Factor. Jennifer MikelsЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Fertility Factor - Jennifer  Mikels


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a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair passed by.

      Along with Josie, Lara said hello.

      “A new doctor. A perinatologist, like Dr. Cross.” Josie glanced away to smile when another employee, Allison Baker, also passed by them. In her mid-twenties, she was thin, with chin-length auburn-colored hair. Lara thought of her as rather sweet, maybe a touch too prim. Josie, who stood several inches shorter than Allison, had become a good friend of hers in a short amount of time. “She’s in love,” Josie said.

      Lara smiled. “She told you?”

      “No, you can tell,” Josie said, nodding her head. Overhead lights highlighted the blond streaks threaded through brown strands. “She met someone last month. That’s what you need.”

      “What do I need?” Lara asked.

      “A handsome stranger.”

      Lara knew a man who suited her just fine. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

      “No.” Josie hunched forward. “Eloise received e-mail from the mayor. She was really upset. I mean really.”

      Lara assumed Josie heard that from Allison Baker, Eloise’s personal assistant.

      “No one knows what he wrote, but Eloise is usually so calm and sweet. Whatever he said disturbed her.”

      Mentally Lara shook her head. She found it hard to believe that Mayor Bill Harper was going out of his way to make Eloise’s life miserable. Lara liked the mayor, believed he was an honest, straightforward man.

      “Interesting, isn’t it?” Josie asked.

      “Could be.” Lara refrained from saying more when she didn’t know all the facts. “I’ll talk to you later.”

      Getting time to do anything became an impossibility. Busy all day, Lara ushered one of the last patients of the day to the door. “Won’t be long now,” she said to the woman, who carried a burden that made her every step slow and labored. But the woman was fortunate. For someone carrying multiple babies, she’d had a relatively normal pregnancy—no morning sickness, no gestation diabetes.

      The woman released a short laugh. “I’m looking forward to seeing my feet. I suppose everyone says that.”

      Lara nodded. Most pregnant women made a similar complaint. She would love to have the problem. If she ever got pregnant, she’d relish every single moment, including the ones that made her feel lousy. Because she was still troubled about Gena’s news, she’d struggled with smiles all day. Though she had a dozen things to do after work, including laundry, she decided to relax with a book and a glass of wine after she got home.

      The workday stretched longer than she’d expected. Everyone had left long ago, and she was still there. So was Derek. The woman in the examining room had complained about heavy discharge since her babies’ birth. An erosion of the cervix, an occasional problem following delivery, had required an in-office procedure. Derek had cauterized the cervical area with no discomfort to the woman. While the patient dressed to leave, Lara enjoyed spending the time with the woman’s twins.

      “They’re staying even.” Lara commented to the woman when she emerged from the examining room to leave.

      “They’ve both gained another pound. Devin is a half inch bigger than Ian.”

      “He’s the oldest, isn’t he?” Lara said.

      “Born one minute and fifty-five seconds before his brother.”

      “He’ll probably never let him forget that,” Derek said, coming up behind them in the outer office.

      “I expect that’s true,” the mother said.

      “You’re going on vacation, aren’t you?” Lara asked her as Derek left them to return to his office.

      “Yes.” She checked on her babies in the blue-plaid baby carriage. “It’s a family holiday at Martha’s Vineyard. Dr. Cross said he vacationed there as a child.”

      “I’m sure it’s nice.”

      And a place for the affluent. Unlike his family, hers originally resided in New York’s Little Italy.

      Lara saw the woman out to the waiting room, then wandered into the staff lounge. It was late. She knew security had escorted the woman and her babies to a taxi. Thunder rumbled angrily and lightning flashed, casting the offices in an eerie glow.

      Uneasy about the lateness more than the weather, she moved quickly. With another flash of lightning, she hurried to her locker and snatched up her umbrella, then grabbed her shoulder bag. Her footsteps echoed on the floor before she hit the carpeted hallway. From a distance, she heard the elevator doors open and ran the rest of the way. A few lab technicians were still in the building. She’d rather ride down with them than be alone. Nearing the elevator, she saw the doors stood open, waiting for her.

      Just inside, Derek grinned. “Want to ride down together?”

      Winded, her heart pounding, Lara pressed a hand to her chest. “Yes.” She stood only inches from him. With his lengthy look, she struggled for conversation. “I always liked storms.” Since coming in this morning, neither of them had said anything about their meeting in the park. She’d felt closer to him there. But except for this brief conversation, they were back to all business. Of course, they’d been busy all day. But he’d acted as if those moments had never happened.

      Nervous in the quiet elevator with him, she went into her survival mode. She talked. Talked about the patients, about lunch at the exquisite restaurant, about his son. “He’s really cute, Dr. Cross.”

      “Lara, away from the office, don’t you think you should call me Derek?”

      Okeydokey. “Derek.” She took a deep breath. “Wasn’t there a doctors’ staff meeting this morning? Have you heard more about the feud between Eloise and the mayor?” She wondered if he knew more than the rest of the staff about the situation between Eloise and the mayor. “Do you think Manhattan Multiples might close?”

      “If Bill Harper is serious about stopping funding, that could happen.”

      Lara frowned. “Some of the staff are concerned they might lose their jobs.”

      “You shouldn’t worry. You’re an excellent nurse. You’d never have a problem finding a new job.”

      He looked down at his watch, frowned. He had somewhere to go, someone waiting for him. She wasn’t surprised. He was considered quite a catch by co-workers. Because she was taken with him, Lara always kept her thoughts about him to herself, not wanting to reveal the crush she had on him.

      “I’m going to be in trouble tonight.”

      Someone special was waiting for him. I don’t want to hear this, she thought.

      “I promised to cook sloppy joes.”

      “You eat sloppy joe sandwiches?” she asked about the messy hamburger mix on a bun. She couldn’t visualize a butler serving that.

      He laughed. “I brush my teeth, too.”

      She felt heat sweep over her face.

      “I’m sorry.” He flashed a smile that nearly buckled her knees. “I couldn’t resist teasing.”

      “I’m just surprised that you cook.” Especially something appropriate for eating on a TV tray. The man came from money. Wasn’t he accustomed to servants?

      “Only sloppy joes. Dorothy cooks the rest of our meals. You know who I mean. You’ve talked to her.”

      “Yes.” She’d had brief conversations with his housekeeper-nanny. While he withdrew his cell phone, she stepped back to give him privacy, but it wasn’t difficult to hear.

      “Dorothy, I’m leaving now and—what the…” The elevator jerked, then stopped. He caught Lara’s wrist to steady her. “Are


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