Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
The doctor continued to talk about information I needed to grab at the front desk but I was done listening. I stared at the brochure, wondering why it was in my hand if we still had ‘a ways’ to go and more to ‘thoroughly evaluate.’ Then the door closed and I wanted to cry.
It seemed like as safe a time as any. Hale wasn’t here, and I was alone. Just me and my empty eggs.
I sniffled, and a tear fell from my eye, forming a blotch on the brochure where the happy couple held an infant. I had no idea how long I sat there, but it felt like years before I was dressed, packed up, and collecting my appointment card and scripts from the front desk.
On the drive home, I was numb. No recollection of traffic or even parking my car when I reached the office.
I filled my arms with the reports I needed to return to Remington and tried to compartmentalize my professional life from my personal drama.
“Hello, Rayne,” Miles greeted in his chipper British accent as he entered the elevator. “I haven’t seen you all morning.”
“What?”
“I said, I haven’t seen you. Is everything okay?” He pressed the button for the top floor.
“Oh, I had an appointment this morning.”
“Well, lucky you. He’s in quite a mood today. Stocks plummeted and he’s been on a rampage. Something to do with a bill the senate just passed…”
Miles continued to update me in his eloquent, matter-of-fact way, but I couldn’t hear a single word over the ringing in my ears.
What senate bill was he talking about? Was it another one that went after women’s rights? What if we wound up needing IVF, but by the time we figured that out, some dickface part of the patriarchy took away that option?
In addition to everything else, I now felt a crushing sense of urgency. My mind started to panic, so I beelined toward Remington’s office the moment the elevator doors opened.
“Uh, Rayne, he asked not to be disturbed,” Miles warned, but I needed some sound advice.
Sophie, the newest receptionist whom I was pretty sure was sleeping with or trying to sleep with Remington, sputtered as I walked past. I didn’t bother with appointments. I was Remington’s right hand and daughter-in-law. We were family, so I marched right into his executive, corner office and shut the door.
“Ever hear of knocking, Meyers?”
I plopped into the club chair across from his enormous desk and slouched dramatically like a broken doll. “I’m barren.”
His bushy white brows furrowed. “Start over.”
I rummaged through my bag and withdrew the sad little brochure, tossing the crumpled paper onto his desk. “I went to the doctor this morning, and they want to run more tests.”
“Run more tests, meaning they haven’t concluded anything yet?”
“Well, no, there’s nothing since my initial labs. But something’s gotta be wrong, Remington. We’ve been at it for months!”
He set the brochure aside and glanced at his watch, debating the time. “Sometimes these things take time.”
“It’s been over a year. What if it just doesn’t happen for us?”
“Nonsense. Hale’s a Davenport. We have strong swimmers and a potent bloodline.”
“But what about me?”
I was a Meyers. We didn’t have a potent bloodline. Ours was instead a weak line of runaway men and commitment-phobic women. There were a lot of childless relatives in my gene pool, now that I thought about it. Even I was an only child.
My mom had to have a sex life after my father, right? He left when I was a little kid. Yet, I never had any siblings.
“I’m sure you’re fine, Meyers. You’re young and healthy. For once, don’t overcomplicate something simple. Just keep at it in the bedroom, and eventually, you’ll wind up in a nursery.”
He moved to the wet bar in the corner of his office and cursed. Returning to the desk, he stabbed a finger into the telephone and buzzed the secretary.
“Sophie, where the hell are the glasses?”
“Your reading glasses, sir?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, my damn martini glasses.”
The door to his office opened, and a flustered Sophie walked in carrying a tray full of stemware. “I put them in the mini-fridge to chill.” Every curve of her twenty-something, perky body was displayed in the skin-tight burgundy dress she wore.
“Next time, leave them where they are.”
“Yes, sir.”
She bent to open the fridge and both I and Remington silently tipped our heads to admire her perfect heart-shaped ass. Jeez, did the girl live in a Pilates studio?
Bet her ovaries were fine…
She set two frosted glasses on the bar beside the shaker. “Would you like me to mix you a drink, sir?”
I rolled my eyes. Just what Remington needed, another pretty, young thing to fawn over his every desire. Was she even old enough to handle alcohol? Apparently it didn’t matter that Remington was approaching his seventieth birthday.