Too tense to sit down, Lane stood in the living room of Mandi’s trailer waiting for her to come out. When she did, he did a double-take. Her mass of curls was swept up and secured on one side with a sparkly gold clip, and the cream-colored dress she wore left both her shoulders exposed and clung in all the right places. Long earrings shimmered against her neck. With a slight tilt of her head, she offered him a soft smile. And his pulse rocketed.
He wondered if she’d simply dressed for a night on the town, or if the tantalizing view was meant to taunt him, a reminder of what he’d be missing back in Austin. Could be this was the parting image she wanted him to keep when he left. He had plenty of intriguing images captured in his brain already, and they weren’t likely to fade any time soon.
Sucking in his breath, Lane took a step toward her. “You look terrific,” he said, planting a quick kiss on her colored lips. “Ready?”
“Sure.”
He helped her into the BMW and climbed in beside her. Within the confines of the car, her perfume teased his senses, and her bare legs seemed only inches from his. He kept forgetting to breathe.
Lane had made dinner reservations at a restaurant downtown with a spectacular view of the city. The hostess seated them near the window, and they spent an awkward few minutes simply looking out. Lane didn’t exactly enjoy the view. His mind was elsewhere, trying to figure out how to make this easier. Neither one of them had signed on for any kind of long-term commitment. Still, whatever they had together had gone beyond casual sex.
He forced his shoulders down when a waiter appeared with glasses of water.
“What can I get you to drink?” the man asked.
Lane gave a quick scan of the wine list. Maybe a nice merlot would take the edge off. He ordered a full bottle.
When the waiter left, Mandi reached across and curled her fingers around Lane’s hand. The shy smile she gave him pulled at his heart.
“Nice place,” she said.
Lane took a deep breath and squeezed her hand, then picked up the menu. “Glad you like it.”
The waiter returned, and poured the wine. After they placed their dinner orders, Lane lifted his glass toward Mandi. “To you – the unexpected pleasure of working in Northtown.”
Her eyes flickered toward the table before she picked up her glass and met his gaze. Lane was sure the brightness in her eyes came from unshed tears, but she smiled and tapped her glass against his. It’s what he expected her to do – put on a good front. Whether she had any real feelings for him or not, she wouldn’t acknowledge them. Her emotional scars kept her from getting close to anyone. And she’d already proven she was a survivor. She’d move on.
And so would he.
Mandi smoothed the tablecloth in front of her, the silence grating on her nerves. They’d talked about so many things. Why was it hard to start a conversation now? Couldn’t they connect fully clothed and in public? She swirled the wine in her glass. “So, are you going to tell me about your plan, or do I have to wait like everyone else?”
He leaned back in his chair with his wine. “No, you don’t have to wait like everyone else. You’ll be the first to know. In fact, I may want to bounce some ideas off of you,” he said. “But I haven’t got it figured out yet. Still working on the details.”
She sent him a teasing grin. “If you get the job will it make you rich and famous?”
“Doubtful. But it might get some national attention. And that’s what gets the next job.”
“What if you don’t get it?”
Lane shrugged. “There’ll be other jobs. I’ve got a bid on a couple of things in Houston. Something will pan out.”
Easy come, easy go, Mandi thought. He didn’t lack confidence, for sure.
“What’s the competition like?” She’d seen a few other business-types in Jimmy’s over the past few weeks. Figured they could be in on the project. But none of them seemed as sharp as Lane. And none nearly as interesting.
The waiter interrupted with their dinner, and Lane refilled Mandi’s glass.
“Couple of big firms are players,” he said. “And I know some other guys are in the game. This one comes with some Federal red tape, too. I’ve got my work cut out for me.”
“And you can’t work here?” Mandi asked. Oh, my God. She could’ve bitten off her tongue along with the roasted chicken. Where had that come from? She would not pressure him. She kept forgetting that she needed him to leave for a while anyway. He couldn’t be around while she got pregnant.
Lane slowly shook his head. “Wish I could, but it doesn’t make sense to pay for the hotel when I’ve got a condo and an office back home. Besides, I need my materials and my space to spread out all my research and just think.”
Mandi focused on the plate in front of her. “Sure.”
He reached over and grazed her arm, sending shivers down her spine.
“I’ll be back, you know.”
Her hand stopped mid-air. “You will?”
“I may need to meet with people at city hall or the planning commission. And I’ll come up to deliver the final documents.”
Her heart thumped. Would he call? Should she invite him to? She took a sip of wine and let her eyes stray toward the window again. Waiting for her pulse to return to normal. Truth was, no matter how much she’d steeled herself for his departure, she would miss Lane Whitmore. More than she cared to admit.
“Mandi, look at me.”
She turned, and he leaned forward, his smoky blue eyes regarding her. When he spoke again, his voice lowered to a husky bass.
“What do you want me to do? Call? Keep in touch? I need to know whether you want to see me again, or whether you’d rather have a clean break. It’s up to you. I know you want outta here, want to get back to California.”
The wine burned as it trickled down her taut throat. What did she want? Was it better to see him when he was available than to simply let him go and walk out of her life? She’d already lost her best friend, and didn’t have a lot of other people in her life. In only a few short weeks, Lane had broken the monotony of her days. Made her laugh. Made her feel again.
She imagined the weeks ahead without him. If he asked her to stay, would she? Would she let her dream be derailed again? No. She couldn’t do that. Her opportunity had presented itself, and she had to take it. Besides, he wasn’t asking. And he hadn’t said what he wanted, either. She pasted on a smile, and gave him the out. “Lane, I’d love to see you when you’re in town if it works in your schedule. We . . . we’re friends now, right?”
The worried lines on his face relaxed, and he held her gaze. “At the very least.”
As dinner wound down, Mandi’s anticipation of the rest of the night ramped up. She didn’t know whether Lane would call again, whether she’d see him again, but she knew no one had ever made her feel the way he did. When she was in his arms, all the bad stuff faded away, and she felt warm and wanted. She’d let him go, but if this was to be their last night together, she wanted it to be worthy of a memory.
At her place, she leaned into him, and whispered, “You can’t spend the night, because I have to get up early.” And because she couldn’t deal with an early-morning goodbye. “But don’t go yet.”
In a flash, hard lips met hers, and a warm hand pressed against her. “Wasn’t planning to,” he whispered back.
**
When he finally hit open road, Lane let his thoughts drift. Usually he could compartmentalize one job from another, personal life from work. But he was having trouble separating his ideas for Northtown from its most intriguing resident. Miss Mandi Evans, a diamond in the rough if there ever was one. She was so out of place there and didn’t even realize it – or didn’t want to accept it. Northtown was the last place he’d ever expected to meet someone like her. Did it happen for a reason? To keep him on track, give him ideas from an insider’s perspective?
For sure, if he hadn’t met her, didn’t care about her, his first inclination would be to wipe out The Meadows. So, maybe that wasn’t the right way to go after all. Maybe he should keep her in mind as he explored options for the area. She’d be the little voice inside his head.
As if he had a choice. In more than three hours of driving, she was still front and center. After last night, sending her to the back burner was gonna be tough. God, her smooth skin and soft sounds lit a fire in him. And kept him awake a good chunk of the night.
The next morning, in boxers and a T-shirt, he started coffee then switched on the light in his office, and scanned the room. The desk faced a large picture window with a view of his small back yard. Bookcases lined an entire wall, laden with all kinds of reference materials and manuals. Just looking at them gave him a buzz. That, combined with some caffeine, and he was ready to get started.
Lane poured a cup of strong Columbian roast, then settled into his top-of-the-line ergonomic chair with a large map of Northtown. He sketched in the boundaries and began penciling in some initial thoughts. Then he opened his laptop. For now, at least, he’d leave Jimmy’s and The Meadows exactly as they were. Hopefully, as the plan emerged, so would an epiphany for what to do with those.
**
Mandi faced Monday morning with lead feet. Just knowing that Lane was gone for at least the next two weeks made the days loom long and empty. And knowing that she had to begin the lies and cover-ups with Joe to get the surrogate process under way made her uncomfortable. She’d just started to build a rapport with her boss in the wake of Brittney’s death, and now she was going to deliberately deceive him for her own personal agenda.
With a heavy sigh, she climbed out of the Honda and headed for the DataPlus building. It had to be done. In this case, the end justified the means.
At mid-morning she approached Joe’s office. “Is he in?” she asked Carol, his secretary.
Carol’s brows lifted, but her lips did not. “Is he expecting you?”
Mandi linked her hands together, hoping to appear nonchalant. “No, but I need to talk to him a sec. I can come back later.” She was about to turn when the door opened and Joe stepped into the hallway.
“Oh, hello, Mandi,” he said. “How are you?”
“Fine, thanks.”
He looked from her to Carol and back again. “Did you need something?”
She flashed a hesitant glance toward Carol. “I– I wanted to talk to you a minute.”
“Sure. Come on in.”
He closed the door behind her. “Everything set for Friday?”
“Yes. It’s all arranged. We’ll have lunch delivered then begin the program. I’ll send you that amount for lunch as soon as I get it.”
“Great.”
She licked her lips. “I really came down to tell you that I have a doctor’s appointment Wednesday morning, so I’ll be in late.”
“Okay. That’s fine. You can check with HR if you need to know how much sick time you have.”
Of course she knew that. “Right. Well, I wanted you to know because there’s a chance I’ll have to have some tests run. Maybe a procedure in the next couple of months.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong?”
Mandi rested a hand on her abdomen. “Not sure yet. Maybe a cyst, or some scar tissue acting up. The doctor mentioned a sonogram.”
Joe held up his hand. “Okay. Hey, do whatever you need to do. Just keep me posted. Shoot me an email when you know for sure.”
Mandi almost laughed. She knew any hint of “female” problems would fluster the guy into submission and keep him from asking questions. She left the office and blew out her breath. The first hurdle was cleared. On her cell phone, she called Dr. Bensen’s office and made arrangements to stop by early Wednesday to sign consent forms. As she ended the call, goose bumps erupted on her arms. The ball was rolling.
On Wednesday morning, Mandi dressed in her most modest black skirt and spent extra time on her hair, unsure what the panel was looking for – what would make a good impression. She figured it’d be something like a job interview. But, really, how did you assess someone’s ability to have a baby? At least they hadn’t tossed her out on account of her address.
Mandi arrived at the agency’s offices with a few minutes to spare. She shook back her hair, and wiped clammy hands on her skirt before opening the glass door. A receptionist ushered her into a conference room dominated by a long oval table. Pictures of smiling babies lined the walls. Her eyes scanned the pictures. Were they generic baby photos or were they all surrogate babies? She swallowed hard. They were adorable.
“What can I get you to drink, hon?” the receptionist asked with a friendly smile. “Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee would be great. Thanks.” The caffeine could make her jittery, but having the mug would give her something to do with her hands if she got nervous.
“No problem. Just relax. Susan will be right in.”
When the receptionist returned with a mug and sweeteners, she was followed by two other women.
Mandi stood, and a tall woman with sharp features stepped forward to shake her hand.
“So good to meet you in person, Mandi. I’m Susan.” Gesturing toward the other woman, she introduced Emma, her case coordinator. “If we have time, we may take you down to meet Dr. Vickers as well.”
Nodding, Mandi opened her purse and retrieved the CD Dr. Bensen’s nurse had given her. She held it out to Susan. “I believe my medical files are here. But I also signed a consent form this morning in case you need to talk to my doctor.”
“Perfect,” Susan said briskly. She took the CD and passed out a bundle of papers, then patted the top one in her stack. “I have your application here, so why don’t we start with that.”
“Sure,” Mandi said. She looked from Susan to the older woman. Susan was all business, but Emma gave Mandi a wide smile, her eyes lighting up as she leaned forward.
“Don’t be nervous. Or shy,” she told Mandi. “We want this to be a great experience for you. Fun and rewarding.”
Mandi assessed the woman, guessing her to be around forty-five or fifty. Dressed in a simple blouse and cropped slacks, she had a casual appearance, and her short blonde hair looked low-maintenance. The dimples that flanked her smile implied a cheery personality.
For the next hour, Mandi answered question after question about herself, why she was considering becoming a surrogate, and what she hoped to achieve.
“I just want to do something good,” she said.
Susan looked hard at her, as if trying to discern some underlying reason.
“Oh, just wait,” Emma said, clapping her hands together. “This is the best. When you see that mom and dad with their little baby, and know that it happened because of you . . . well, it’s the best feeling in the world.”
“Have you done it?” Mandi asked.
Emma’s bright smile widened. “Yes, ma’am. Twice. First, for my sister, then once for a stranger. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but I’m . . . well, past my prime, shall we say.”
Mandi’s mood lifted, and for a moment she was caught in Emma’s enthusiasm. But then the conversation turned to medical procedures and legal commitments, and for another hour, Mandi was bombarded with facts and figures. Talk of shots and calendars and eggs and fertility specialists filled her brain, and she couldn’t help wondering if they were trying to scare her away. Jeez, didn’t they want people to do this?
Susan tapped her pen against the documents in front of Mandi. “All of this is spelled out in here. Read it carefully and call with any questions. We want you to understand the procedures as well as the timing. There’s a whole packet on the in vitro process. We already have a few couples who might be interested in your file. We’ll talk with them on our end, and when we think we have a solid match, we’ll set up an interview.”
“So, I’ll get to meet them? Do I get to choose, or do they choose?”
“We hope to facilitate a match, so that you’re choosing each other,” Susan said.
“Oh. I see.” Mandi wasn’t certain that she did, but was confident these people knew what they were doing. In that moment, she realized that the match was the most important part to her. Sure, she could follow the guidelines and go through the procedures, but only for the right couple.
“We’ve included a brief bio of some couples in your packet. If you have a preference, please let Emma know. She’ll be working closely with you and the couple to ensure a smooth relationship and positive outcome.”
Thank God, Mandi thought, blowing out her breath. She’d much prefer working with Emma over Susan. That woman was a little intense.
Finally, Susan looked around. “Any other questions?”
Mandi stared at her. Of course she had questions. About a million of them. But at the moment, she couldn’t think of a single one. Her mind reeled with information overload.
Susan stood. “I’ll let you and Emma spend a few minutes getting acquainted. If you still wish to become a surrogate, and we determine we can offer you a place in our program, we’ll set up a screening appointment at the fertility clinic. All of the steps we talked about are clearly outlined in the packet.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Susan shook Mandi’s hand again then left the room. As soon as she did, Emma plopped down in the chair next to Mandi, and patted her arm.
“You okay?” Emma asked. “I know it’s a lot to take in at first. Seems like we have to scare the hell out of you before we can move on. But it’s not that bad, really. Tell me what you have in mind for your parents. What are you imagining?”
Mandi knew exactly what she was looking for. She took a deep breath and started slowly. “First, I want them to be in love. I want them to be basic, good people. Not rich. I don’t want to work with people who feel like they’re entitled to this.” When Emma’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shape, Mandi paused. “Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” she said. “I hear what you’re saying, and I’ll do everything I can to match you with a couple like that, but you need to understand that most of the people who come here do have some money. They have to. It’s expensive. By the time it’s all done, most couples will spend more than fifty thousand dollars on this process. A lot of people can’t afford that. Some take out second mortgages, some get help from parents and grandparents.”
Emma pushed the stack of documents closer to Mandi. “Take a look at the profiles in here, then give me a call.” Her eyes practically twinkled. “Unless the doctors find some medical issue in your chart, I’m almost positive you’ll be approved, and I’m one-hundred-percent sure we’ll find a good match.”
Mandi cocked her head. “Do you have someone in mind already?”
Emma’s smile widened. “Can’t say for sure.” She leaned forward again. “Let me tell you, Mandi, I know it seems like a lot of rules and dos and don’ts, and it can be scary. But, sweetie, you’re in charge here. None of this happens without you.”
Mandi flopped back in her chair. She hadn’t thought of it like that, and it helped relieve some of the anxiety. She grinned at Emma, her matchmaker, and decided she liked her immensely. Maybe this could be fun.