SH Medical 08 - The Baby Dilemma (16 page)

He’d finished entering his notes and was rewatching the video of the mayor’s announcement, since he’d missed a few parts the first time, when a flash of blue at the corner drew his gaze to Paige’s coupe. Through the windshield, the sight of her cloud of red hair lifted his spirits, as did the bouncy strains of an oldie pop song resounding from her stereo.

After the car disappeared into the garage, Mike could have kicked himself for gawking. Not to mention missing part of the video all over again.

Paige cut across the patio carrying a large supermarket sack. “Roast chicken and vegetables,” she called. “I brought plenty in case you’re hungry.”

“Sounds great.”

She paused to study the moving figures on his laptop. “I can’t stand that man!”

“Which one?”

“Hizzoner the mayor,” she grumbled. “He was the swing vote on the halfway house. I’ll never forget his smug look when he referred to us as ‘that type of neighborhood.’ As if the fact that we have small cottages and a lot of renters means we aren’t entitled to security.”

“I’m not one of his fans, either,” Mike said. “Now about that chicken…”

They moved to the kitchen, falling into a comfortable rhythm as he set the table while she fixed iced tea. She was humming the song he’d heard playing in her car, and her green eyes sparkled.

“How’d your day go?” Mike asked.

“Lots of healthy babies and one of my fertility patients is pregnant.” She set out the aromatic containers of food.

The news startled him. “Sheila?”

She blinked. “What, since yesterday?”

It did seem rather soon. Plus, he doubted she saw regular patients on a Sunday. “Must be someone on staff, which would explain why you ran into her on a weekend.”

“Good guess.” She didn’t add any details, but that would be an invasion of the patient’s privacy.

Mike had the same type of issue to deal with. He kept trying to figure out how to salvage his future chances for an endorsement even though his research was about to publicly humiliate Chief Walters. Paige’s feedback about Mrs. Hightower had been right on target after he spoke about the case hypothetically. Why not do the same now?

Once they were seated and had taken the edge off their appetites, he spoke up. “I’d like your opinion about something.”

She set down her fork. “Is this personal?”

“No, it’s business. Why?”

“Between Dermot and my sisters, I’ve had enough personal drama for one day. I’m not sure I have the emotional energy to handle any more. But business would be okay.” She took a second helping of steamed broccoli and cauliflower.

“You talked to your sisters.” While Mike disliked the reminder that she might be moving out of state, he didn’t want to be left in the dark. “What happened?”

“Long story. Let’s get back to what’s eating you.”

Being shut out of her private life bothered him. But he’d asked for that, hadn’t he? Plus, now that he’d brought up his problem, might as well see it through.

Choosing his words carefully, Mike explained that he had to expose wrongdoing and, in the process, unintentionally harm a third party whose high opinion he valued. “He might be important to my future business plans, plus I hate to embarrass him, but I don’t see how to avoid it. My first obligation is to my client.”

“Communication might soften the blow. Would your client agree to give this guy a heads-up, or would that spoil your plans?” She regarded him sympathetically.

Mike hated being blindsided, and no doubt the chief did, too. Now that he thought about it, they should notify the local police first anyway. “You’re a genius,” he said. “Don’t go to Texas. I rely on your advice.”

“You can email me,” Paige joked. “I promise not to bill you.”

He felt a jolt of alarm. “Have you definitely decided to leave?”

“Still pending.”

Relief. But short-lived unless he made her see how much she would regret moving, and not only because—he hoped—she’d miss him as much as he’d miss her. “Judging by what you’ve told me, your family will drive you crazy. I’m sure they’re fine in small doses, but pretty soon you’ll feel trapped and hemmed in. Like you don’t know who you are anymore.”

She peered at him through lowered lashes. “That sounds like the way you feel about becoming a father. Am I right?”

She understood him all too well. “That doesn’t make me wrong about you and your family,” he countered.

Paige sat there looking beautiful and sorrowful, like a painted madonna come to life. “I’ll decide by the end of the month. How’s that?”

“You’re asking my permission?”

“No. But I did promise you could stay for the summer. And since it’s your baby, even though you’re not responsible, I’ll give you a fair chance to weigh all considerations.”

He reached across the table to take her hand. “Paige, leaving here would be a mistake. For your own happiness.”

She waited. Hoping he’d give her a personal reason to stay? The words refused to come.

If it were only a matter of the two of them… But she’d been right about what fatherhood meant to him. A twenty-year prison sentence. “I’ll get the ice cream from the freezer.” Mike arose and, as the moment passed, imagined he heard a door shutting, leaving him outside.

Outside of prison, he reminded himself, and rummaged through a drawer for the scoop.

Chapter Sixteen

“You’re the most terrific doctor in the world!” Sheila Obermeier beamed at Nora from the examining table. “This has to be record time.”

“It certainly happened fast.” Reaching out, Paige helped her patient sit up. “Congratulations. And please credit Dr. Rattigan, too.”

Less than three weeks after Gil received an injection for his low hormone count, the couple had achieved a pregnancy. It wasn’t even the end of July, by a few days. Paige was more aware than usual of time passing because of her self-imposed deadline to reach a decision.

The petite woman tugged the hospital gown tighter. “If not for your advice, Gil would never have agreed to see Dr. Rattigan.”

“Is everything okay between you two?”

“Yes. Actually, things are better than they’ve been in a long time. He was embarrassed when it turned out his hormones were low, but I remembered what you said about stroking his ego. So I told him that my hormones fluctuate all the time.”

“Good response.” Paige admired the woman’s quick thinking.

“He’s decided to join a gym and get in shape,” Sheila noted. “I think you were right about him feeling inadequate compared to Mike. You know, they have more in common than I realized. They’re both old-fashioned masculine guys, even though they show it in different ways. How’re things going with him, by the way? I got the impression you two were involved.”

Paige didn’t like to discuss her personal life with a patient. Dodging the issue struck her as futile, though. “Nothing long-term. As you know, he doesn’t want kids, and I do.” Carefully, she added, “In fact, I’m expecting a baby. By choice.” Word of Paige’s condition had spread through the hospital these past few weeks, it being almost impossible to hide the signs of pregnancy from the nurses.

“It isn’t his?”

“I used the sperm bank.” That was true, as far as it went.

“How did he react to that?” Sheila asked.

“As I said, our long-term goals don’t mesh.” Enough about Mike. “Now, let’s discuss your prenatal care.”

By the time Sheila departed laden with pamphlets and vitamin samples, it was a few minutes past five o’clock. Paige went to check with her nurse. Although Sheila was the last scheduled patient, there was usually someone who had to be worked in on a Thursday with the weekend fast approaching.

However, Keely informed her that the waiting room was empty. “Now that there are two doctors, you’re caught up.” The heavyset nurse fiddled with a chart. “That temp nurse is doing okay for Dr. Franco, I suppose.”

“I hear she’s fine.” When Nora returned to work a few weeks earlier, she’d brought in a temporary staffer until Bailey returned or gave notice. Still, Paige had to be fair about this. “I’d understand if you’d rather work with Dr. Franco than with me. We arranged things this way because you and I are both full-time.”

The woman’s dour features seemed to be fighting a battle. Finally the tiniest hint of a smile broke through. “I’d rather stay with you. I hope you aren’t planning to leave. I heard you might be.”

Lately, Paige had been missing family less and seeing more reasons to stay. Yesterday, she’d been surprised by the heartfelt swell of applause at a staff meeting when Dr. Tartikoff announced that Paige had moved into second position in the contest, ahead of Mark Rayburn and Zack Sargent. Then there’d been Cole Rattigan’s admiring remark when, after thanking her for referring Gil Obermeier, the renowned urologist had said he was impressed with how much she cared about her patients.

Staying in California would be lonely at times. No sisters around to pinch-hit with the baby and, unless Mike chose to tell his folks, no connection to them, either.

Yet the grumpy nurse’s unexpected vote of confidence seemed to fit a puzzle piece into place. With a profound sense of relief, Paige announced, “Actually, Keely, I’ve decided to stay here. My family’s great but they can be overwhelming. I’ll be happier going it alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” the nurse said. “The people around here are like a family.”

Paige barely hid her astonishment. Grim-faced Keely had antagonized Dr. T during a brief stint in his office and, whenever she joined a table of other nurses in the cafeteria, sat scowling as if she disapproved of their chitchat. Who would have guessed how she felt about them?

“Yes, they are,” Paige agreed.

“And you’re a big part of that.”

From Keely, that amounted to high praise. “I’m glad you like working for me,” Paige said.

“You’re not fluttery like some of the other women doctors, and you’re not bossy like the men.” Keely had circulated as a temp for much of the time she’d worked at Safe Harbor, Paige had heard. “I like it here.”

“Great.” She gave the nurse a hug. After a moment’s hesitation, Keely hugged her back.

Afterward, in her office, Paige was collecting her purse when Nora popped in, her face alight. “Sorry for eavesdropping but I overheard you and Keely. I’m glad you’re staying!”

“Sign me up,” Paige responded cheerfully.

“I don’t mean to be nosy… .”

“You mean about Mike?”

“Well, yes.”

“I wish I could say there were romantic considerations, but that isn’t it.” Paige waved her friend into a chair. “I grew up afraid of getting lost in other people’s ideas of who I was. But when the reality sank in that I’m going to be a single mother facing the future alone, I got scared. Turned out to be temporary. It’s not like me to run from a challenge.”

“You aren’t staying because you feel you have to prove anything, are you?” Nora probed. “Because you’re one of the most popular and respected doctors at the hospital.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” Paige laughed, amazed at how free she felt. “I do feel like I belong here. And who knows? Maybe someday I’ll meet the right guy.”

Nora didn’t say anything about Mike. And much as she liked her new partner, Paige wasn’t about to volunteer anything further about the private, tender and very painful place in her soul that belonged to him.

“How about sharing a bottle of sparkling apple juice to celebrate our new partnership?” Nora asked. “I have some at home.”

“You’re on.” Out they went, together.

* * *

A
LTHOUGH
HE
’
D
WORKED
for Kendall Technologies for almost a year and a half since buying Fact Hunter Investigations, Mike had never been invited to the owner’s home until Thursday evening. As he parked near the harbor, he wished he knew what this meant.

Three weeks ago, Reese had received the report on the Doug Loughlin interview with fury. Outraged by the mayor’s thievery, he’d been eager to go straight to the FBI, but had listened to Mike’s urging that they take the case first to Jon Walters. Finally, he’d agreed.

“I realize you’d prefer to avoid antagonizing your former boss,” Reese had said. “I’ve met the man a few times myself, and I respect him. But he’s close to Roy. If he tips off the mayor and screws this up, I’ll hold you responsible when the FBI goes Dumpster-diving through my files.”

Mike had almost regretted putting himself on the line. On the other hand, he wasn’t just doing this for himself. In a theft case—even one with international implications—he considered it proper to notify the local police first. So with Reese’s permission, he’d called the chief and, after he explained that this was a sensitive matter, Walters had met them at Kendall Technologies.

In Reese’s plush office, Mike had broken the news to the chief. He’d explained about the theft of a prototype medical tool by a Russian company, and laid out Doug’s testimony. He’d also mentioned Roy’s close association with Yelena.

“How close?” the chief had demanded.

“Closer than it should be. Beyond that, I’m bound by confidentiality to another client,” Mike had said, and noted a scowl darkening Reese’s face. They’d never discussed this particular matter before because it hadn’t come up.

“We’re talking about a crime,” the chief had pointed out.

“And I’ll testify if necessary. But the FBI can do a more thorough job of investigating than I can,” Mike had said. “Anything I know, they’ll find out for themselves.”

“I hope they’ll keep in mind that my company is the injured party here,” Reese had added.

His manner guarded, the chief had thanked them both and promised to call in the FBI. A few days later, both Jon and Reese had sat in as Mike presented his findings to a pair of stony-faced agents. If the FBI had talked to any of the parties since then, no one had notified Mike.

Then today, Reese’s secretary had issued a summons to meet him at home. While Mike supposed he ought to be flattered at the invitation, his instincts warned that his boss might simply want to ream him up and down without risk of corporate eavesdropping.

The scent of seaweed and the mewing of gulls accompanied Mike to the locked gate, where he pressed a button and announced his name. Through a pink tumble of bougainvillea, he made out the red-tile roof of the Mediterranean mansion Reese had purchased about a year ago for his bride.

The gate buzzed open. Mike strode onto a swirling expanse of brickwork punctuated by beds of flowers. Beyond the two-story house, he glimpsed a few sails traversing the harbor in the fading light. With a private dock, this place must have cost millions.

The maid who admitted him led the way through an arched doorway into an open area that was part entertainment center, part family room and part Middle Eastern bazaar stuffed with lamps and vases out of the
Arabian Nights
. Heavy brocade curtains obscured the glass doors overlooking the harbor, while velvet couches and clusters of small tables presented a maze en route to shaking hands with Reese and, unexpectedly, Jon Walters. Mike couldn’t read either man’s expression.

“You’ve met my wife, Persia.” Reese presented the dark-eyed woman, clad in an embroidered silk top and flowing pants that failed to disguise her plumpness. In her early twenties, she hadn’t snapped back from her recent pregnancy, but then, Mike didn’t know much about new mothers. Come to think of it, Paige would look delicious with a few extra curves.

Mrs. Kendall offered him a limp hand. After a polite greeting, she said, “I’ll go see how dinner is coming along.”

The secretary hadn’t mentioned dinner. Mike wasn’t sure Reese expected him to stay, so, without comment, he gave her a faint smile and watched her go.

How strange that Reese had dumped his beautiful, accomplished first wife, Nora—now happily remarried and close friends with Paige—for a younger model with questionable decorating taste and a wimpy handshake. If the man had regrets, though, they didn’t show.

Reese checked his watch. Mike could have told him the hour, since he’d arrived promptly at a quarter to seven, as requested. It seemed an odd time, which contributed to his sense of unease. Mike only liked surprises when he was the one springing them.

“I’ll let the chief update you,” the CEO said.

Mike turned to his former boss. If the boom was about to drop, he’d like to get it over with.

“The FBI’s been keeping a lid on things, as you might expect,” Jon told him with a hint of a twinkle in his pale eyes, or perhaps that was the effect of a garish ruby-tinted lamp dominating a nearby table. “However, I have my sources. I’ve learned that they’ve been investigating Yelena Yerchenko for quite awhile. Your tip gave them a break. It didn’t take much to persuade Roy Hightower to cooperate, considering the kind of charges he could be facing.”

Reese took another look at the watch. “We thought you might enjoy seeing this with us.”

Mike refrained from asking what “this” referred to. He’d find out soon enough.

Reese fiddled with a remote, and a giant wall TV sprang to life. A few clicks connected them to the internet. On-screen, the name
On the Prowl in OC
yielded to a view of Ian Martin sitting across from Roy in the mayor’s cramped city hall office. His doughy face shining with perspiration, Hightower clutched the edge of his desk as if preparing to duck behind it.

After introducing himself, the host said, “Safe Harbor Mayor Roy Hightower has an announcement to make. Your Honor, you have our full attention.”

If Mike had ever seen a deer-in-the-headlights expression, this was it. “Well, Ian, I’m withdrawing from the assembly race. I realize it’s only been a few weeks since I announced my candidacy, but—” his Adam’s apple bobbed “—but there you have it.”

“I’m sure our viewers would appreciate an explanation.”

The mayor squirmed. “I’ve, uh, encountered some unforeseen financial problems. It will take all my attention to save my real-estate company and preserve the jobs of my employees. As you can see, I put loyalty to my workers ahead of my political plans.”

“What a crock,” Mike said before recalling where he was.

“I couldn’t put it better myself.” The chief leaned back on a couch, arms folded, watching the TV with dry amusement.

“How could you have been unaware of these problems as recently as a few weeks ago?” Ian pressed.

“I lost focus. Got caught up in my dedication to bettering the lives of my fellow citizens,” Hightower babbled. “Serving as mayor is a major time suck…I mean commitment. As you know, it’s a part-time position that only pays a modest sum. I took the job out of a dedication to public service.”