Test Results

EVIE

I tried to walk toward the ladies’ room nonchalantly, pretending like I didn’t just get fingered by my boss two seconds ago.

There was no way in hell I could sit in my office chair like this. I’d risk the pool of moisture between my legs seeping through my skirt. I’d much rather avoid that embarrassment, no matter how few people were here this close to the holidays.

After cleaning myself up, I strolled back toward my desk, still keeping up the super-casual act, smiling and nodding at a few coworkers as I passed them. Once I got closer to my desk, though, I noticed my iPhone lit up with an incoming call. My stroll quickened to a trot.

I snatched up the device, spotting my new ob-gyn’s name bannered on the screen. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Evangeline Beckett,” said the voice on the other end.

“This is she,” I said nervously.

“Hi, Miss Beckett, this is Dr. Karen Nevill. I was wondering if you had time today to swing by the office and go over your test results.”

“Um, sure…” I glanced at my clock on the computer: it was only 3:15, nowhere close to the end of the workday, but I couldn’t wait. I needed to know those results. “I can be out of the office by 4:30 and come straight there. Is that all right?”

“That’s fine,” Dr. Nevill said. “I’ll see you then.”

As I thanked her and hung up, a single thought pierced my mind.

~Fuck. Sam.~

I couldn’t stand him up. I could tell he was getting frustrated, and I didn’t blame him; nobody likes their new girlfriend ignoring them and keeping secrets. But hopefully, he can cut me just a little more slack.

Once I had this second opinion, I would know for sure. I could come to Sam armed with all the facts—the exact odds of me ever getting pregnant. And then…he could either accept that, or he could break my heart and get it over with.

After doing my best to rush through all my daily tasks so that I could leave work early with a clear conscience, I glanced at the clock once more.

4:15. I shut down the Mac, slipped my jacket over my shoulders, and seized my purse before heading into Sam’s office. He rose from his desk with a megawatt smile as soon as he saw me.

“Hey…do you have a minute?” I asked.

“For you, angel”—he smirked—“I have several.”

Angel—a word that used to nauseate me now sent a tingle straight to the sweet spot between my thighs. I didn’t think I’d ever get sick of it.

When he rounded his desk, I couldn’t help but eye every inch of him, from his shiny black dress shoes to his navy-blue slacks and jacket to his white button-up overlaid by a dark-purple tie.

My inner sex demon begged to play with that tie as he finger-fucked me. The very thought sent my thighs clenching and my slutty little brain on a rampage.

I headed over to where he leaned against his desk. While I got close enough, he moved his hands inside the open sides of my coat and hauled me against his chest. “You back for round two, baby?”

“No,” I said with a chuckle, despite being desperate for it. “I have somewhere I’ve gotta be, and it may take a bit. I promise I’ll come over to your place as soon as I’m free.”

“Evie…,” he said, skepticism tightening his gaze.

I smirked. “Vázquez…”

“You better not be trying to give me the slip again.”

“I’m not. I’m just helping Saanvi with something. After that, I’m all yours.”

I abandoned my purse on his desk and hiked up my pencil skirt a smidge. Shifting my lacy, sky-blue underwear down my legs, I stepped out of them before showing them off.

“In fact, I’ll give you these as collateral,” I said with a smirk, dangling the waistband from one finger.

“Oh!” He hummed, grinning and accepting my insurance policy. He peered at it, checking the tag.

The broad, tan lines spanning his forehead as his brows raised brandished his thirty-seven years, but he wore them well. He seemed like one of those men who would only get better-looking with age.

I pricked a brow. “What’re you doing?”

“Checking your label.” He smirked, hustling my panties into a deep pocket at his hip. “Made in heaven.”

I let out a tiny laugh, rolling my eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey!” He sneered. “I’m a ~clever~ idiot.”

***

Saanvi was already waiting in the doctor’s parking lot in her deep-blue Chevy Malibu when I pulled in. It made sense; her office was a hell of a lot closer to here than the law firm, and I’d called her as soon as I’d left work.

Saanvi and I ventured into the building and began climbing the stairs to the fourth floor.

Fancy, oil-rubbed bronze sconces lit our laminate path with each twist and turn of the steel railing, but my stomach grew heavier the closer I came to more answers.

“So, do you think it’s good news?” Saanvi asked.

I sighed. “Unlikely.”

“Why would she have you come in, then?”

“Just like last time. They deliver bad news in person, discuss treatment options, and plan the next steps. That’s where Greg and I were in this process before I found him depositing his seed in Mia.”

Saanvi’s upper lip curled. “Ew.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“Well, either way, we’re gonna figure this out, Evie. There are so many options for how you can start a family, even if it ~is~ bad news.”

~It always is.~

We were able to go right in without a wait, so we took our seats in front of Dr. Nevill’s desk as she pulled out my manila files and spread the reports along the pearly-white surface in front of her.

I kept my legs crossed, as the chilliness between my thighs cautioned me I wasn’t wearing any underwear.

Dr. Nevill’s short, black bob wobbled with every sway of her head as she gave the paperwork a quick once-over.

I didn’t even realize I was anxiously bouncing my knee until Saanvi’s bronzed hand reached over, claiming mine to calm me. I sighed, shooting her a forced smile, glad she’d met me here despite the inconvenience it must have put in her day.

“So, Evie, exactly how long have you been trying to conceive?” Dr. Nevill asked, her fingers interlacing above my documents.

“I was with my ex-husband for nearly ten years, so about five. My last doctor told me that because my mother had trouble getting pregnant a second time, it’s probably something to do with my genetics.

“My parents adopted Saanvi when I was three because it just wasn’t happening for them again. I’m open to the idea of adoption”—I glanced at Saanvi, trying to communicate how happy I was that she was part of my family—“but I want to double-check what’s possible.”

“I understand,” Dr. Nevill said with a glacial-blue stare. “From what I can see, your ob-gyn in Washington state was on the right track.”

~Of course he was. God knows I couldn’t come here and get better news the second time around.~

“Your genetics can play a key role in your fertility problems, but also, your levels of AMH suggest that your egg count is extremely low for your age,” the doctor continued.

“So, what does that mean for her?” Saanvi asked so that I didn’t have to.

“Normally we would begin looking at options like IVF, but in your case, that won’t be necessary.”

~Of course, I’m not a viable candidate for even that expensive, difficult procedure. Wait…did she say not necessary?~

I furrowed my brows. “Why?”

“Because the other hormone detected in your blood is called HCG,” Dr. Nevill explained with a gentle smile.

“HCG?” Saanvi said sharply. “Isn’t that the—”

“Yes.” Dr. Nevill nodded. “The pregnancy hormone. Congratulations, Miss Beckett. All that trying finally paid off. You’re pregnant.”