Countdown to Baby
Автор
Gina Wilkins
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Chapter One
The slippery seven-pound boy squirmed in Cecilia Mendoza’s arms. Pink legs flailed with his irritation at being shoved out of his warm, liquid cocoon and into the openness and light of the clinic birthing room. A series of shrill screams issued from his toothless mouth, and his scrunched face was beet red with fury.
Cecilia thought he was absolutely beautiful. With hidden reluctance, she transferred the child into the arms of his exhausted but eager mother. The stocky young father hovered close by, his ruddy face split with an enormous, proud, and just a bit nervous, smile.
Pushing her own emotions to the back of her mind, Cecilia concentrated on her job as a certified nurse midwife, turning her attention to the routine follow-up procedures of this blessedly complication-free delivery. Her workday was almost over. She couldn’t go straight home, unfortunately, because of the reception for Lillith Cunningham, the new public relations director for the Foster Midwifery Clinic and the Bingham Midwifery School, both affiliated with the regional hospital in Merlyn County, Kentucky. The reception was to begin at six. Cecilia wasn’t particularly looking forward to the event, but she felt obligated to drop in.
She could contemplate her feelings of wistfulness, envy and frustration later, when she was alone in her house, longing for a child of her own. As her thirty-eighth birthday loomed closer, she couldn’t help wondering if she would ever know the joy of holding her own baby.
Geoff Bingham’s bedroom smelled of freshly applied orange-oil wood polish and a hint of woodlands-scented air freshener. As he precisely knotted an expensive red silk tie around the neck of his tailored white shirt, he wondered if he was only imagining the slightly musty scent of a long-unoccupied room beneath the more pleasing fragrances.
His efficient housekeeper made sure his condo was always clean and welcoming when he returned from one of his many long business trips, but sometimes the place still felt foreign to him. Like just another of the series of hotel suites and corporate apartments he slept in during his travels—when his demanding job allowed him to sleep, of course.
Picking up the hand-tailored jacket that had been laid out on his bed, he shrugged into it as automatically as a mechanic might don his blue cotton work shirt. As far as Geoff was concerned, this fifteen-hundred-dollar suit was merely a business uniform, no more indicative of his true personality than his immaculately polished wing-tip shoes. The party for which he was dressing was just another business meeting to him, at which he would smile and mingle and shake hands with the smooth skill he had spent the past ten of his thirty-two years developing.
Squeezing the tight muscles at the back of his neck with his left hand, he could only hope the reception for the hospital’s new public relations director wouldn’t last long. All he wanted to do was get this over with, come back to his citrus-scented condo and crash in the den with a beer, some chips and his treasured Taylor guitar. An evening of quiet solitude sounded very good to him right now. But he would do his duty. He always did.
“So, Geoff.” A florid-faced man in a suit that was too tight across the belly clapped him on the back with enough force to make him almost stagger. “How long are you in town for this time?”
With the benefit of a decade of practice, Geoff held on to his pleasant smile, which was, to him, as much a tool of his trade as a hammer was to a carpenter. “Looks like I could be around for a while this time.”
“That’s good to hear.” Bob Howard slapped Geoff’s back again. “Maybe we can hit the golf course. Not this weekend, I’m afraid. The wife’s sister is coming for a visit, and I’m expected to entertain my moron of a brother-in-law.”
That was one thing Geoff could identify with. Family obligations. His entire life revolved around them. “Maybe some other time.”
“I’ll give you a call.”
Geoff could think of a couple dozen things he would rather do than spend an afternoon golfing with Bob Howard—root canals and ditch digging among them—but since Howard’s bank was a major financier for Bingham Enterprises, he spoke warmly. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Howard moved on, and Geoff took advantage of the moment of peace to take another bracing swallow of his lemonade. Around him various members of his family—his father, his grandmother, his sister, his cousins—worked the crowd attending the reception for the new public relations director for Merlyn County Regional Hospital.
The hospital had been founded by Geoff’s grandparents and was still family controlled, along with their other local and international business interests. The Binghams took their responsibilities to the corporation and to the community very seriously. And to the rest of the family, of course.
Even Geoff’s late, wild, uncle Billy’s illegitimate offspring—the ones he had acknowledged, anyway—had certain expectations thrust upon them, whether they wanted them or not. Two of those cousins, Dr. Kyle Bingham and Hannah Bingham-soon-to-be-Mendoza, were in attendance at this affair, doing their part to promote the hospital and its upcoming public relations campaign.
Geoff’s gaze lingered on Hannah, who was several months along in her pregnancy. She had very recently announced her engagement to Eric Mendoza, a rising young executive in Bingham Enterprises. The couple looked radiantly happy, and the engagement had been approved by Geoff’s father and grandmother.
In their opinions, Hannah needed someone to help her raise the child she had conceived in an ill-advised affair several months ago, and young Eric needed a wife to help him further his career. This marriage was the ideal solution, as far as they were concerned.
It wouldn’t be long, Geoff feared, before they turned their attentions back to him. Ever since his thirtieth birthday two years ago, they had been pressuring him to find a suitable bride and start producing more Binghams.
While Geoff had no problem with the idea of fatherhood, the prospect of marriage did not appeal to him at all. As it was now, his free time was almost nonexistent. The opportunities were extremely rare for him to do whatever he felt like doing without taking anyone else’s needs or wishes into consideration. In his opinion, a wife was simply someone else who would claim a right to his time and attention.
Maybe he could subtly redirect the family’s matchmaking efforts to his sister Mari, he mused. After all, she was thirty-four and firmly established as an M.D. and director of the Foster Midwifery Clinic and the Bingham Midwifery School. Sure, she was busy with her duties and her plans for the biomedical research center she dreamed of founding here in town, but she was no busier than Geoff, whose primary job was to secure funding for those grandiose plans and to keep the other Bingham Enterprises interests viable in an increasingly tough international market.
Someone walked by nibbling on a fat, juicy-looking chocolate-dipped strawberry, reminding Geoff he hadn’t eaten in a while. He glanced toward the refreshments tables, where a small crowd of attendees munched on summer party fare. His gaze lingered on a beautiful brunette in a flame red dress.
Cecilia Mendoza. A prominent midwife at the clinic, Eric’s sister was an extremely attractive woman Geoff had admired several times but had never actually met.
Maybe he would sample the treats before he made his escape from this boring affair.
The reception was held in the atrium of the administration and education building on the hospital campus. Four stories high, the fully enclosed atrium was a haven of glass, greenery, statuary and fountains. Wrought-iron tables, chairs and benches were scattered artfully around the stone floors. Greenery cascaded from the balconies of the floors above, leading the eye to the angled glass roof high above their heads. Accessed by gently rising ramps, another balcony circled the main atrium, holding more tables and chairs and providing a second level for entertaining and activities.
There was very little empty space, Cecilia noted as she entered the atrium from the back hallway that led into the main clinic building. When Mari Bingham arranged an official event, few members of her staff or the surrounding business community failed to make an appearance.
This affair had been billed as an informal after-hours welcome for the new PR director. Cecilia was a bit late because she had taken the time to change out of her wilted scrubs and into a bright red sheath dress she’d chosen to counter the weariness of a long day’s work. Sleeveless and scoop-necked, it fit closely to her hips, then flared out just a little and fell to her knees.
She had reluctantly swapped her comfortable walking shoes for a pair of black high-heeled sandals, and her feet were already protesting. Several tendrils of dark hair had escaped the upswept style she had worn for convenience, tickling the back of her neck and her freshly made-up cheeks when she turned her head to greet friends and business associates who had already gathered around the refreshments tables.
In deference to the heat of a July evening, the caterers served frosty lemonade, iced raspberry tea and light snacks—chilled shrimp, crisp vegetables, tiny sandwiches, fresh fruits and flaky pastries. Cecilia looked longingly at the food. She had worked through her usual lunchtime—the McAllister baby having chosen just then to make her appearance—and she was hungry. But since she had never quite mastered the art of eating, mingling and conversing all at the same time, she settled for a clear-plastic tumbler of lemonade and a single chocolate-dipped strawberry, which she barely had time to eat before a deep, masculine voice spoke from close behind her.
“I don’t know about you, but I wish they’d served pizza and cheeseburgers. It would take a whole platter full of these little munchies to fill me up.”
Uncertain if he was talking to her, she turned her head to make sure. She found herself looking straight into the clear hazel eyes of Geoff Bingham, a top executive of Bingham Enterprises and brother to the administrator of the clinic where Cecilia had spent her entire career as a certified nurse midwife.
She identified him immediately, of course—few people in these parts would not—but she had never actually spoken to him before. “I think it would be hard to gracefully eat pizza and cheeseburgers standing in a crowd of dressed-up people,” she replied in the same light tone he had used. And then she smiled. “But it does sound good.”
Geoff studied the selection of finger foods spread on the tables and shook his head. “It all looks very nice, but there’s no real food here. I’ve got to talk to Mari about putting out buckets of chicken or stacks of burritos or something for the next official event.”
Cecilia couldn’t help but laugh at the image of this restrained and proper crowd munching on chicken legs and burritos. “I’m sure that’s going to happen.”
His gaze drifted down to her mouth. “So, do you have any recommendations for a guy who’s very close to starvation?”
He was definitely flirting with her, and she wasn’t too tired to appreciate the attentions of such a handsome and charming man. It had been too long since she had been studied with such open masculine approval—and not in an insulting way, she decided, but decidedly flattering. This brief exchange would give her something to smile about later while she was sitting alone in her house with her feet up and a cup of coffee beside her.
She glanced at the tables again before answering him. “I don’t see anything particularly filling here, but I can recommend the strawberries. The one I had was delicious.”
He reached past her to pluck one of the chocolate-dipped berries from a serving platter. His arm almost, but not quite, brushed against her with the movement. Close enough to make her pulse trip a bit, in a very pleasant way. She couldn’t help watching as he took a bite of the fruit, and she found herself moistening her own lips with the tip of her tongue.
Goodness, but this was one fine-looking man.
“You’re right,” he told her, his voice low and intimate, as if they were the only ones present in this crowded room. “This is good. Want a bite?”
The blatant entendre earned him a look of reprimand, and then a smile she made no effort to repress. “Thanks, but I’ve already had one.”
“A woman of great willpower, I see.”
Cecilia gave him a look from beneath her eyelashes. “When I choose to be.”
His left eyebrow rose. “So…”
“Geoff. Hey, Geoff, good to see you.” A balding man whose suit hung loosely on his bony physique peered over the tops of half glasses as he spoke, seemingly unaware of Cecilia’s presence.
Recognizing the newcomer as a prominent local business owner, and guessing Geoff was there specifically to mingle with potential investors in Mari’s planned biomedical research center, Cecilia tactfully slipped away. She was still smiling when she joined a group of her co-workers in another corner of the room.
“Was that Geoff Bingham you were flirting with over there?” Vanessa Harris, a registered nurse, instructor, and Cecilia’s closest friend in the clinic, asked.
“Unless you know some other rich, movie-star-gorgeous guy that might have made an appearance here today,” Cecilia quipped in return.
“Well, did you slip him your phone number?”
“Gee, I would have, but you know my policy. I never date men who are prettier than I am.”
Vanessa laughed, and, after a moment, Cecilia joined in. As much as she had dreaded this reception, it was surprisingly enjoyable. Amazing what a few minutes of flirting with a handsome man and laughing with a friend could do to turn around a trying day.
“Have you met the new PR director yet?” Vanessa asked in a low voice.
Cecilia stopped casting what she hoped were discreet looks toward the man still standing near the food tables and turned back to her friend. “No. Have you?”
Vanessa’s nod made her trademark large hoop earrings sway against her cheeks. “This afternoon.”
Tall and lushly rounded, Vanessa was a striking woman who would stand out in any crowd, even if it weren’t for her penchant for brightly colored clothing. She wore her black hair cropped close to her head. Her nearly black eyes glittered with a sharp wit and avid interest in her surroundings, and her flawless, chocolate-toned skin was taut and smooth. Having noted the faintest hint of developing laugh lines around her own brown eyes and full mouth, Cecilia could only hope she would look as good when she was forty-five.
Vanessa’s attractiveness wasn’t all Cecilia envied. Her friend was also the mother of four delightful children—two boys and twin girls, all under twelve. Vanessa was even lucky enough to have found one of those rare men who was deeply committed to his family and would probably stay with them through thick and thin, unlike so many of the men Cecilia had encountered.
“What did you think of Lillith Cunningham?” she asked, trying to put her growing obsession with children and motherhood out of her mind for the remainder of the evening—or at least until she got home.
“She’s interesting,” Vanessa replied. “Kind of artsy looking, you know? Flowing clothes in bright colors, jingling jewelry. No doubt she comes from money, but she’s got a nice smile, so maybe the wealth hasn’t gone to her head.”
“Mari wouldn’t hire a snob to promote the clinic,” Cecilia said, confident that she was right. Dr. Mari Bingham certainly fit the description of a woman who had been raised in wealth and privilege, but she still knew how to work hard and mingle comfortably with people of all circumstances. Anyone who wanted to adequately represent the Foster Midwifery Clinic, with its huge diversity of patients and associates, would have to possess the same qualities.
“You’re probably right. Mari’s a good judge of character—most of the time,” Vanessa added in a mutter.
Their conversation was interrupted when Milla Johnson, a young midwifery student, greeted them quietly. Pretty and competent, Milla was one of the shining stars of the midwifery school, and Cecilia had grown quite fond of her. She couldn’t help noticing that Milla looked a bit tired this evening, despite what appeared to be a fresh application of blusher and lipstick.
Milla was definitely showing the effects of the strain of her demanding job, in addition to the worry of a malpractice lawsuit that Cecilia considered little more than an unfair nuisance by a couple determined to blame their own shortcomings on someone else. Milla, in this case.
“Have you had anything to eat lately?” she asked the younger woman in rather maternal concern. “You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine,” Milla replied, trying to smile. “It’s just been a long day.”
“Tell me about it,” Cecilia agreed with a crooked grin, pressing a hand to her back to indicate her own weariness. “We’re well into a Merlyn County baby boom, aren’t we?”
Milla chuckled wearily. “I think the population of Binghamton almost doubled in the past week alone.”
“We’ve sure got a boatload of Binghams represented here tonight,” Vanessa murmured in a bit of a non sequitur as she surveyed the crowded room. “There’s dear Miss Myrtle and Mr. Ron. And Mari and Geoff. You know this event’s a big deal if they brought him home for it. Then there’s Hannah, of course, I suppose she counts as a Bingham. Don’t she and your brother look happy, Cecilia?”
Cecilia smiled mistily across the room to where her handsome and utterly adored younger brother, Eric, stood attentively next to a lovely, and very pregnant, Hannah. The couple were so visibly in love—and so excited about the child they would soon welcome into their lives.
Eric was another exception to Cecilia’s general theory that most men weren’t interested in long-term family obligations. There was no question in her mind that Eric’s commitment to Hannah and her baby would last a lifetime.
And as happy as she was for her brother, she couldn’t help envying…
“Oops. Almost missed a Bingham,” Vanessa added cheerily. “Dr. Kyle is posed broodingly on the other side of the atrium, looking like he stepped off a GQ cover. He is one fine-looking young man, isn’t he?”
Cecilia’s smile deepened. “If you happen to appreciate blond hair, blue eyes, a pretty face and a perfect body. And who doesn’t, right, Milla?”
Her formerly pale face now bright pink, Milla murmured an answer, then made an excuse to move away. Something about seeing someone she needed to speak to.
With a slight frown, Cecilia watched Milla hurry away. Like others who worked closely with them, she hadn’t missed the sparks between the young nurse and Dr. Kyle Bingham. But something other than a possibly complicated attraction seemed to be haunting Milla, and, worrier that she was, it concerned her. “Does it seem to you that Milla’s been acting oddly lately, Van?”
“Who wouldn’t be, with that stupid lawsuit hanging over her? But she’ll be okay, don’t you worry. Mari and the legal staff will take good care of her.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Telling herself to let the experts worry about Milla’s problems, Cecilia glanced discreetly at her functional, easily readable stainless steel watch. “Wonder how soon before we can make an escape? I’m ready to get home and crash.”
“I’ll try not to take that as a comment on my sparkling companionship.”
Smiling, Cecilia shook her head. “Like Milla, I’m just tired. It really has been a long day.”
“I’m about ready to head home, myself. George is supposed to have the kids fed and homework supervised, but you know how it goes. I’ll probably have to check to make sure it all got done. And I want to read Damien his bedtime story tonight.”
Vanessa couldn’t have known, of course, that her lighthearted words would go straight to Cecilia’s heart. Though Vanessa knew Cecilia wanted children of her own, she had no idea just how strong that longing had become.
It was with some relief that Cecilia was able to change the subject of the conversation. “I think someone wants to speak to you,” she said, nodding toward a young nursing student who was trying to get Vanessa’s attention. “Looks like a lively discussion is going on over there.”
Vanessa sighed. “I’m sure there is. That group is always getting into a debate about something—and I always seem to get called in as referee.”
“Mama Vanessa,” Cecilia teased. “Go take care of your chicks. I’m going to try to score another chocolate-dipped strawberry.”
“Okay. Catch you later.” Vanessa moved to the group of nursing students and was soon engaged in an animated conversation with them.
Cecilia worked her way slowly across the crowded atrium, pausing several times to chat with co-workers. She made sure she spoke to enough people to leave no doubt that she had attended the gathering—standard office politics. On the other side of the room, her brother and his fiancée were surrounded by well-wishers. She managed to swap smiles and waves with them, but she made no effort to join them. As a rising young executive in the Bingham corporation, Eric had his own politics to practice this evening.
And, speaking of Binghams…
She smiled when Geoff stepped in front of her again. “Still looking for a cheeseburger, Mr. Bingham?”
He chuckled. “Actually, I’m hungry enough now for a thick slab of steak and a huge baked potato. These little finger foods aren’t going to hold me any longer.”
“I know what you mean. I haven’t had time to eat since breakfast this morning.”
“So, how about it? Want to go find a steak?”
She blinked. “Um…now?”
“Of course. We’re both hungry. We’ve dutifully made our appearances at this official reception thing, and there’s no reason for either of us to stay any longer. So, if you have no plans for the remainder of the evening, I would be honored if you would join me for dinner.”
She could hardly believe that Geoff Bingham was impulsively asking her out within a few minutes of meeting her. Heck, she couldn’t even say they had met, officially. She was quite sure she hadn’t even told him her name. “We haven’t even been introduced.”
His grin deepened, pushing intriguing creases into his lean cheeks. “We haven’t, have we? Of course you already know I’m Geoff Bingham, and I know you’re Eric Mendoza’s sister, Cecilia. You’re a valuable member of the midwifery team here and highly respected by everyone who mentions you. I’d like to get a chance to know you myself.”
So he did know who she was. Maybe, she decided, he just didn’t like eating alone. Maybe he was using her as an excuse to get out of this reception—being the gentleman by feeding a hungry guest, being a good executive by getting to know one of the subordinates in the organization, getting better acquainted with the sister of the man who was marrying one of his cousins. All sorts of rationales could apply. The question was, did she want to accept?
Rather surprisingly, considering her earlier weariness and eagerness to get home, the answer was yes.
Maybe she was simply trying to postpone going home alone—again—to contemplate her life and her future. Maybe watching Eric and Hannah from across the room made her aware again of her own depressing lack of a social life, if she discounted a few disastrous blind dates—which she did. Or maybe she simply liked the idea of spending a couple of hours with an attractive, charming and interesting man.
Deciding she had no reason at all to turn him down, she smiled. “Would you mind if I order chicken instead of steak?”
Satisfaction gleamed in his clear hazel eyes. “That can definitely be arranged.”
