The Switched Baby Scandal (A Scandals of San Sebastian Novel) (Entangled Bliss) (2 page)

Survivor’s guilt was a terrible taskmaster that never took a holiday or gave a man a moment’s peace. Every minute of every day he kept thinking there should have been something he could have done to save them, even though logically he knew it wasn’t possible.

Reece glanced over at the letter still sitting on the table.

As much as the news of the hospital’s possible mistake stunned him, the potential for fulfilling his last promise to Becca made some of the stabbing guilt wane. What if he could make a difference now? What if this was his shot at salvation and a new life without the silent burden he carried? Could there be a chance, a slim chance, that this child could change things? That he truly could keep that promise to take care of their child?

What if the child had Becca’s chocolate-brown eyes and auburn curls? A turned-up pixie nose? He’d know if she was theirs the minute he saw her. It had to be a girl. Didn’t it? The hospital wouldn’t have switched infants of different genders. Would they? A spark of hope glimmered. He couldn’t help it. For a moment he basked in the warmth that tingled in his limbs.

Becca had been such a good friend, and then she’d gotten pregnant, and they’d brought Alyssa home. That’s when real love, brought on by his daughter, took him over for the first time. Together they’d become his universe. All that mattered was captured in two petite packages.

He gazed once more at the letter, the little bits of type swimming in his vision. Tension twisted the muscles of his neck and shoulders into knots, and Reece stretched and began to pace the kitchen. If it were true, then whom had Alyssa really belonged to? How could he have not known the difference? The infant he had cuddled and walked the hall ceaseless nights with, whose murmurs of “da-da” when he came home had always made a hard day melt away…who had she been?

Reece took a deep breath, then loosened the tie at his neck and sagged back into the kitchen chair. It occurred to him that he hadn’t told Miss Fairmont he’d be coming alone. It didn’t matter. She’d find out when he got there. He was certain there would be questions. He just wasn’t sure how he’d answer them. And what about the other parents? How on earth was he going to tell them the one thing no parent wanted to hear: that their child was dead?

Instinctively he knew that this wasn’t going to be like anything he’d encountered before, even in all his years in family law, but there was also no way to change the facts. His natural child was alive, and for the moment that was all that mattered.

Deep inside his promise to Becca reverberated in his head and deeper still in his heart.

I’ll take care of our baby. I swear it.

Chapter Two

Reece glanced at his watch. It was twenty to four, and he’d been sitting in the hospital parking lot for half an hour. He stretched his legs as far forward as possible from the front seat of the black Lexus to relieve his cramping muscles, then ran a finger underneath the starched white collar of his shirt, making it easier to swallow against the thickness in his throat. Rain thrummed on the roof, the drops bouncing in random patterns on the hood.

Absentmindedly, he reached behind his seat for the umbrella before he remembered he’d left it in the hall closet. He drew his hand back, knocking over the stack of briefs from the office sitting in the passenger’s seat.

Reece frowned. He should be working. His law firm had continued to function well during his leave of absence while his partners took over his caseload, but he hadn’t really been pulling his weight since his return. It was time to get himself together, even though this latest news had knocked him into a new emotional tailspin in the last twenty-four hours.

Who was he kidding? He was a wreck. He couldn’t eat. He definitely couldn’t sleep, and putting together two coherent thoughts had been next to impossible. By two o’clock Bill had suggested he take the rest of the week off. He collected the papers and folders off the leather seat, restacking them and making a mental promise to work on them later that evening over a frozen dinner and a Coke.

He exhaled slowly, trying to pull the fractured pieces of himself back together. Right now he had something more important to think about than work. He shrugged on his black trench coat and opened the car door. The crisp, wet fragrance of the rain made him grin at melancholy memories as the soft drops streaked his face.

Alyssa had loved the unpredictable spring rains that buffeted the northern California coast. The small town of San Sebastian had been so charming that he and Becca had decided to move away from San Francisco to raise their daughter here. He closed his eyes and let the drops wash over him. He could see his little girl dancing in a wide circle, hands outstretched, laughing as her sodden jumper clung to her skin. “Come on, Daddy!” she had squealed, running up to him and tugging on his belt loop. She pulled him from his vantage point under the eaves of the house to join her and together they had let the mud suck at their shoes and sang “Itsy Bitsy Spider.”

His skin was wet and cold now, but Reece hardly noticed. A familiar, twisting ache in his gut and the emotional numbness that invaded his limbs robbed him of any further pleasure in the downpour. He trudged up to the entrance of the hospital behind a sleek blonde with a bright purple umbrella.

He narrowed his eyes against the rain hitting his face. This meeting was going to be uncomfortable at best and heartbreaking at worst. Just the thought of what he had to reveal made him wish he’d downed a bottle of antacids. The woman slapped her umbrella closed before reaching the doors, giving it a twist to rid it of excess water. Reece hurried his step, reaching for the edge of the door just before it swished closed in his face.

While he waited beside her for a look at the directory, he gave his head a quick shake, letting the rain scatter from his hair.

The woman yelped, then glanced at him over her shoulder. She was gorgeous. Something he hadn’t noticed about a woman in a long, long time.

“I guess I closed my umbrella too soon. I didn’t realize I’d need it indoors, too.” She gave him a brief smile. The soft curve of her full lips made the idea of a kiss leap to mind.

His mouth went dry. For the first time in his life he was unable to whip up a flip reply. Something about her went straight to the center of him like an electric shock.

Her vivid blue eyes were bright. Too bright. He’d seen that look before in female clients who might cry at any moment or were anxious with fear. For an instant he wondered what caused that look in her—and how he could fix it.

He shifted his weight, then glanced at the dark spots scattered across the lapel of her azure-blue silk suit. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Oh, perfect, a top attorney tongue-tied like a teenager.
He took a quick, shallow breath and tried again. “I hope it didn’t stain your suit.”

She turned, and he could see now that the drops had splattered across the enticing curves at the front of her suit as well.

A lump lodged in his throat. Pressure built beneath the surface of his skin. He had no business looking at her. And certainly none looking at her
there
. She followed his gaze and her eyes widened before they narrowed with disapproval. She pulled her open coat closed and hurried off toward the elevator, her blond bob-cut hair brushing lightly against the smooth skin at the base of her neck.

He found himself staring as she stepped into the elevator. The instant she was out of view he silently chastised himself.
What the hell is wrong with you, Wallace? You’re here for the most important meeting of your life and you’re staring at a stranger like you’ve never seen a woman before. Focus.
Reece forced his gaze back to the rows of white plastic letters in the slanted glass case and quickly located public relations on the fourth floor, then headed for the elevator, too.

The brushed-metallic doors slid open. Reece stepped in and reached for the button to the fourth floor. The doors skidded shut.

His stomach dropped, not from the elevator’s lift alone, but from the sharp pain in his chest that hit him as he caught a whiff of the floral scent Becca had always worn. Roses. Orange blossoms. And just a hint of vanilla. The blonde must have worn it, too. In the close confines of the elevator, the perfume seemed too strong, overpowering him. Reece willed himself to ignore the acute pang of longing it caused. He associated the scent not with just Becca, but Alyssa, too. Her fine baby hair had always smelled of her mother’s perfume because she was almost always in Becca’s arms or his own.

The doors peeled apart and he rushed out, away from the lingering scent that clung to his memories. Glancing at his watch, he decided to wait out the remaining minutes in the hall and pull himself together.

Out of habit, Reece dug his hand into the back pocket of his tailored slacks and lifted out the worn, black leather wallet. The edges were curved with use. He flipped it open, fingers automatically searching for the smooth plastic sleeves that protected his most recent photo of Alyssa and Becca. The ache settled deeper into his bones, and he sagged against the wall for support.

He recalled reading to Becca’s bulging stomach, so the baby could hear. Would the child recognize his voice? Would there be any connection at all? He shook his head and snorted. It was ludicrous to think so.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he tried to reclaim his composure. He’d never get through this if he didn’t just do it. He snapped the wallet closed and shoved it into his back pocket, putting away his emotions as much as possible so he could rely on his professional manners to carry him through the meeting.

Reece pulled open the door of the PR office and entered the small waiting area. The receptionist smiled brightly at him.

“May I help you?”

“Mr. Wallace here to see Miss Fairmont.”

She gestured to a set of plump, aqua-colored chairs that matched the hospital logo on the wall. “She’s expecting you. If you’d like to sit down for a moment, I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Reece removed his damp coat and sank into the chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

A short woman in a bright yellow suit walked toward him. Her hair was close-cropped, curly, and dark. She extended a hand to him and smiled, her teeth a brilliant white contrast to her mocha skin. “Mr. Wallace? I’m Patricia Fairmont.”

He grasped her hand firmly.

“Was your wife unable to come?”

Reece nodded silently, a tremor of guilt at the omission running under his skin. He moved to speak, uncertain of how to explain the situation, but didn’t get a word out before she continued.

“Of course, she must be with your daughter. Well, I appreciate your effort to be here. If you’d like to follow me…”

Her words were a sucker punch to the gut, completely unexpected and powerful enough to take his breath away. Becca was indeed with Alyssa, and he hated it. Every minute of every day. Reece rose from the chair and walked behind her. As they turned the corner, he could see over the top of Miss Fairmont’s head that they were heading toward a small, brightly lit conference room with a wall of glass facing the hall.

Reece stopped midstep in the long hall causing Miss Fairmont to turn around. “I don’t see the little girl.” He hated that the tone of his voice betrayed his desperation and disappointment.

“We thought it would be best if you and your wife could meet with us first and have an open discussion about the possible options so as not to upset the children.”

“Very thoughtful of you.” He hoped he sounded more convincing to her than he did to himself.

“Thank you. I’m only sorry your wife couldn’t join us.”

Reece’s heart contracted in a painful squeeze. “Me, too. Miss Fairmont, I have something to say—”

She turned, her index finger raised to stop him, and gave him a kind smile. “If you can just hold that thought a moment longer, Mr. Wallace, it will make this process easier.”

He doubted it. Nothing could make this kind of soul-eating anxiety easier.

If Becca had been here, this exchange would have been completely different. She could’ve smoothed things out. She would’ve been able to keep him rational and sane. She’d been so good at that. Instead, he felt as though he were going for the bar exam with no preparation. His palms were sweating and his heart beating too fast. There were too many questions—tough questions that he didn’t know the answers to and didn’t want to think about. Questions about how this could have happened and, more importantly, why it was happening to him. With everything else he had suffered recently, this capped the long list of life-altering events and made him feel like he’d been shoved through a paper shredder.

He followed Miss Fairmont into the conference room and sat down beside the glass-topped conference table. Miss Fairmont spread manila folders out on the table’s shiny surface. “Mr. Wallace, as I briefly mentioned before, we’ve been alerted to a terrible mistake that was made regarding your daughter. It seems that she was switched with another infant during your wife’s stay with us.”

His shoulders and neck stiffened. “May I ask how you came to that conclusion?”

“We’re going to be working through that today. We’ve gone through an exhaustive search of the birth records on the day in question and discovered that you and your wife were involved in this unfortunate situation.”

The tension in his shoulders increased. “Does that mean you’ll need a blood sample from me?”

“Yes, but only as a confirmation, Mr. Wallace.”

Anger shoved him forward in the chair. “How could you let this happen?”

Miss Fairmont took a quick breath and lifted her chin slightly, suddenly on the defensive. “We believe it was a new hire on our nursing staff who was responsible. She is no longer employed here and, in fact, was discharged after only a month. We made an effort to contact her, but we’ve been unable to reach her. We’ve only recently been alerted to the mistake and are trying everything we can to rectify it.”

“And just how do you rectify four years of someone’s life, Miss Fairmont?” He blew out a frustrated breath and shook his head, rubbing his palms down the thighs of his pants. “Sorry. This is just a very big piece of news to digest all at once.”

She folded her hands together, settling them on the clear surface of the conference table. “I understand, Mr. Wallace, but we are all going to do our best to make sure this is as easy as possible on all involved.”

She was just doing her job. Mentally he knew that. But he was shaking with anxiety anyway. There was nothing easy about this. “What about the other parents? Have you been in contact with them already? Who are they, anyway?”

“Yes we have,” she stated smoothly, then gave him a practiced smile. “Actually, Mr. Wallace, I took the liberty of asking the other parent involved if she could be here today as well. If you’d be willing to meet her, then perhaps we could open a discussion regarding what’s to happen next.”

His shoulders tightened. He hadn’t been prepared to meet the other parents, but he did want to see the little girl. His throat too tight to speak, he nodded his approval and sunk back in the chair.

“Excellent. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll be right back.”

Reece watched through the room’s glass wall as she disappeared down the corridor. The clock slowed, the minutes stretching out an impossibly long time. With each tick, he became edgier. He gripped his hands together, squeezing, then releasing them. What in the hell was he going to tell them? A raw pain ripped at him. He knew how awful losing a child was. How would they react? As much as he wanted his child, he could never destroy someone else’s life the way his had been when he’d lost Alyssa. How on earth was he going to explain Alyssa’s and Becca’s deaths?

Miss Fairmont returned a few minutes later. He stood automatically to shake hands.

“Ms. Taylor Lawrence, may I introduce you to Mr. Reece Wallace.”

It was the blonde.