Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I show my security badge at the entrance and navigate my car to the employee parking area. I turn off the engine and sit in my car hyperventilating. Guilt constricts my throat. Sarah was so good and welcoming to me. As was Jace Anderson. I feel horrible that I’m lying to them about who I am. I remind myself that it’s for the overall good of future patients to know that they are safe in the hands of the clinic. It’s my job to investigate and write a well-informed piece. This is the kind of assignment that will open up doors for me at the magazine. Guilt is replaced by determination and my muscles tighten in readiness. All I have to do is to keep the bigger picture at the front of my mind.
I enter the building and wave at the two women manning reception. I take the elevator up to the third floor where the executive offices are. As I exit, I flash my badge at the security guard and walk down the hallway, the click of my heels swallowed by the thick carpet.
Sarah is already at her desk. Shit.
“Am I late?” I blurt out.
She smiles. “No, I just like to come early. So does Mr. Anderson. Your official starting time is eight. But I’m glad you’ve come early; I’ll have time to show you around.”
Relief surges through me. At the magazine, I’m almost always the first to get in after Amelia. I enjoy the quiet time before the office comes to life. It’s a lot quieter here at the clinic with just Amelia and Mr. Anderson on this floor.
“You’ll sit next to me today,” Sarah says, gesturing at the chair next to hers. “Do you want to have a coffee first before we go for the tour? We have a kitchen down the hallway and the best coffee machine.”
“I’d like to do the tour first,” I tell her. I’m looking forward to knowing my way around the clinic. I glance at her belly. “Are you sure it’s not too much?” Sarah carries pregnancy well and I hope that one day in the distant future, I’ll be the same way. She doesn’t have that weary look that expectant mothers in their last trimester usually have.
Sarah makes a face. “I know I look as if I’m about to pop at any moment. The walk will do me and the baby good. Get him or her moving.”
“You don’t know whether it’s a boy or girl?”
“We want it to be a surprise.” Sarah grins.
I find myself wondering if she got pregnant naturally or if she used the clinic’s services. Her journey would make for an interesting story if she got pregnant via IVF or even better, sperm donation. I swallow down my curiosity.
We continue the conversation as we leave the office and take the elevator down. Baby talk is alien to me. Sure it’s on my list of things to do, like six years from now, as is marriage. Right now my career comes first and I want to have made a name for myself by the time I think of settling down.
“When Mr. Anderson is not in his office, you’ll find him walking through the clinic, talking to the staff and the patients,” Sarah says. “He’s a hands-on CEO.” She clearly likes and admires her boss which means I’ll probably enjoy working for him as well.
The Anderson Clinic is a lot bigger than I expected. We see the operating rooms which rival those at any big hospital, several ultrasound scanning rooms, and now we’re walking through a ward with private rooms for each patient. The atmosphere is not that of a hospital. With neutral colors and classy furniture, it feels more like a home away from home. If it weren’t for the equipment, you’d be fooled into thinking you were in a hotel.
My interest is piqued when we get to the waiting room of the fertility wing. There are already two women waiting and a couple all engrossed either with a magazine or their phones. Sarah calls out ‘good morning’ as we walk past.
She stops at reception and introduces me to the nurse manning it. “Liz, this is Olivia James. She’ll be working for Mr. Anderson while I’m away,” Sarah says.
Liz gives me a friendly smile. “Welcome to The Anderson Clinic. Come down for a coffee or a chat during your breaks. I know it can get lonely up there.”
“I will, thank you,” I tell her, glad for the invitation which I’ll definitely take her up on. We say goodbye and leave the fertility clinic.
“Are all the patients in there looking to have babies through sperm donors?” I ask Sarah.
“Most of them,” she says. “They are the bravest women I know. It’s a rigorous process and some women change their minds halfway though. Don’t blame them though.”