Baby Magnet

Prologue

Prologue

DECEMBER

Lisa

My hand shakes. I blink once, twice, bringing the two pink lines into focus as my heart catches in my throat. I shake the stick, as if that somehow will erase the second pink line. When I look again, the line is still there, just like on the other two tests I bought so that I could be certain I wasn't getting a false positive.

This shouldn't have happened. My IUD is only a few years old. Those things are supposed to be baby proof. But clearly mine wasn't. I've felt ill for days. At first - stupidly - I chalked it up to stress and long hours due to the number of holiday soirées Danny has lined up. But when the smell of coffee this morning sent me running for the toilet, I got scared. I love coffee with a passion that borders on mania. Nothing can keep me from my dark addiction. Except, apparently, pregnancy.

Another wave of nausea passes through me and I shut my eyes, fighting both the sick and the rising panic. Already, my mother's voice rings with disappointment in my head.

You have brought shame upon our family.

"It's not like I planned for this to happen," I mutter under my breath, talking back to her. And even if I had? There's no shame in raising a baby on my own, I point out to her in my mind. I mean, how many times can your family disown you? This latest development is just one more pearl in a long string of family disappointments. Although the irony of an "oops" baby having an "oops" baby is not lost on me. The only difference, I guess, is that this baby will be born to a mother who wants her.

I'm startled out of my downward spiral by a sharp rap on the bathroom door. "Leese, you okay?" calls my boss, Danny Pendergast. "You've been in there twenty minutes."

Has it really only been twenty minutes since my world collapsed like a house of cards? "I'm fine," I say hoarsely. "Got some bad food last night." And I'm too chicken to tell you what's going on. "I'll be right out."

I stash the contents of the test in my purse then grip the countertop, staring into the scared eyes that reflect back at me in the mirror, trying to remember the last time I had a period because - god forbid - this baby cannot be the product of my skeezy ex, Leo. But there's no point. I barely have periods anyway thanks to my supposed baby proof IUD, which means I'm not going to figure that puzzle out until I see my doctor. I splash water on my face, sniff in a couple of deep breaths, then pull out my phone.

"Uh, hi. This is Lisa Liu, I'm a patient of Dr. Patel?"

"Date of birth?" the scheduler asks in a bored voice.

I give her my birthdate. "I kind of need to be seen right away? I... umm..." I drop my voice, terrified that Danny can hear everything I'm saying. "I'm pregnant," I whisper harshly.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to speak up."

"I-I'm looking at a positive pregnancy test." I do my best to fight the rising hysteria. "Well, three actually, but I think I need to be seen right away, because I have an IUD."

"Oh my, yes, you do," the woman answers. "Okay, let me see what I've got." I hear the keyboard clacking through the phone. "I'm sorry, it looks like the earliest Dr. Patel's free is next Monday at ten-thirty."

I fist my free hand as another wave passes over me. "Are you sure? I don't think I can wait that long."

"I'm so sorry," she says sympathetically. "You can come in through urgent care if you want to be seen sooner."

"I really need to see Dr. Patel." I'm on the verge of tears and my voice wavers. "Please? Can you look again? Or could I speak with her nurse?"

The scheduler sighs. "Let me transfer you back to her nurse."

I pace the tiny bathroom while I listen to the hold music. How am I going to pay for daycare? How am I going to pay my mortgage? My stomach does a slow roll, and not because of morning sickness. I never finished my degree because Danny pays me way more than I could have made as an entry level artist at Hallmark. Plus, he's a great boss - the best.

But it's not like I can bring a baby to the Whiskey Den. With a horrible sinking feeling, I take stock of my extremely limited skill set and wonder what in the hell I can do to support myself from home while I have a small baby. Phone s*x? Pornhub? There are enough creeps with Asian doll fetishes, I could probably make money vacuuming my rug in a g-string. Or painting in the nude. The thought's as cringeworthy as it is comical, and I shudder as a half-hysterical laugh gurgles from my throat. But on the heels of morbid thoughts of turning to s*x work is the reminder of everything my grandparents built from nothing when they landed here in the US. I'll figure all this out because I have to.

"Hi, Lisa? It's Renee, Dr. Patel's nurse. What can I help you with?"

My voice catches and I stumble through my explanation.

Renee must hear my rising hysteria because she rushes to reassure me. "The first thing is not to worry, chances are everything's okay, but I know Dr. Patel will want to see you right away to rule out ectopic pregnancy. Can you come in at four-thirty? Her last appointment is typically at four, and I know she'll want to stay late. Does that work for you?"

"Ye-yes. Thank you so much."

I disconnect and catch myself in the mirror. I look like s**t. My face is blotchy and my eyes are red, but I can't hide in here until four-thirty. I'm going to have to take my lumps with Danny.

I open the door and step out - right into the hard wall of his massive chest.

Danny catches me by the arms, scowling. "What in the hell is going on, Lisa?" His eyes turn flinty as he scans my face. "Did someone hurt you? I swear, I'll-"

"No, no." I cut him off with a shake of my head. "Rough night, that's all."

His eyebrows knit together at my vague answer. "Last time I checked, food poisoning didn't make people look like they'd been crying for the better part of an hour."

"I'm fine, Danny. Really."

"Said no woman ever."

"I promise. I'll be fine. Is that enough?"

He eyes me skeptically. "I mean it, Leese. If anyone has hurt you... he'll pay," he finishes with a deep growl.

I huff out an involuntary laugh. "I appreciate the offer, but I think what I need is a sick day. Do you mind if I take off? I'll be fine by tomorrow." I wish. But at least I'll have had twenty-four hours to get a grip.

"Take two days. I've been working you too hard. And while we're on the subject, have you made plans for Christmas?"

I can't help the small smile that lifts my cheeks. Danny's asked me the same question for five years, and for five years, my answer's been the same. "I have, thanks." If Danny or any of his other regulars found out my only plans are showing up at the City Union Mission on Holmes, he'd be on my doorstep in a hot second, no doubt with a turkey and all the trimmings. But I'm an outsider, and no amount of Christmas Spirit platitudes and asking me to be a plus one will change that. I'd rather go hang out with a bunch of other misfits and spread a little cheer of my own.

Danny's answer is the same as it's always been. "Well if your plans change, there's always a place for you."

It warms my heart how he looks after me. "I appreciate that. More than you'll ever know." I aim my thumb at the front of the bar. "I think I'm going to go home and lie down."

"If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Danny. See you tomorrow."

"You better not show your face around here tomorrow," he calls after me. "See you in two days."

"Now, let's take a look," says Dr. Patel with a smile. She lubes up a wand, and before I'm ready, I hear a whump whump whump. "That's your baby's heartbeat," she says with a smile. "And it's positioned exactly where it should be. You're lucky. Many IUD pregnancies are ectopic."

My heart seizes, and then I burst into tears.

Face still serene, Dr. Patel hands me a tissue and waits patiently while I pull myself together. "I guess that must happen a lot, huh?"

"Most times," she says, hand moving the mouse on the trackpad. "Judging from the size of the fetus, I'd say you're around eight weeks."

My brows knit together as I count backward. "But... I don't understand. That's mid-October. I think that's when I had my last period."

"That's where we start counting. So the actual conception happened approximately ten to fourteen days before your next scheduled period. Do you know how long your cycle is?"

I shrug. "Sort of? I quit paying attention once I got an IUD." And once Leo dumped me. "I think I used to be around thirty or thirty-two days."

Dr. Patel reaches for a round fertility calendar and starts moving the wheel around. "So that means you probably conceived anywhere from the thirtieth of October to November fifth."

I shake my head. "That makes no sense." Until it does and my stomach drops like an elevator in free-fall. Heat burns my face and for a moment, I feel like I'm going to burst into flames, because I have vague memories of kissing the second-worst man in the world for me, and flashes of his head between my legs, but no memory of... p*****s inside v*****s. And for as much as I've fantasized about him late at night with the help of my magic wand, you'd think I'd remember something as elemental as f*****g. Only I don't. And my stomach sinks even lower.

I'll have to quit the best job I've ever had in my life. Worse, without said job, I'll have to sell my house. Worst? My new baby daddy can never know.