A tiny speck of hope sprang up in Ella. “I don’t object to having in vitro again afterward,” she assured in case he was thinking she wasn’t a candidate because she’d already done it so often and spent so much money on it that she was now looking to do something completely different.
“There are two problems,” he continued, ignoring what she’d said and making her hope waver. “I already have as many patients, married patients, as I need in the study, and—”
“Couldn’t you make room for just one more?”
“—the other patients have already been through my orientation to explain the process and procedures.” He finished his second point as if she hadn’t interrupted him.
“I’d be willing to go through it all without the orientation,” Ella said, hating how she’d been reduced to grasping at straws but still hoping that he wouldn’t be telling her any of this unless he was actually going to include her.
“I don’t practice in half measures,” he informed her.
He got points for being conscientious if not for being tactful. But still Ella didn’t know if he was rejecting or reluctantly accepting her.
Another silence dragged on, again with his intense eyes on her the whole while, making her worry more as each minute passed that he was going to turn her down.
“I want you to understand,” he said when he deemed to speak once more. “If I allow you into the group and this doesn’t work for you, I won’t treat you further. In other words, I will accept you as a patient only for this study and the in vitro procedures that will follow it. If you don’t conceive after a reasonable number of attempts, you have to agree that we will go our separate ways. Because, after looking at your history, I don’t see where there’s anything I can do for you that hasn’t already been done—repeatedly. For me to go beyond this particular study would be a waste of my time and your money.”
“Okay,” Ella said much too quickly, jumping at the chance he seemed to be giving her.
“Before you get on the bandwagon you should also know that because I have a full caseload and so does Dr. Schwartz—”
“Dr. Schwartz is the Chinese doctor?” Ella asked, feeling a bit giddy with the thought that Jacob Weber wasn’t turning her away cold.
“She’s married to a colleague of mine, Mark Schwartz, and she took his name.”
Ella couldn’t suppress a smile.
“As I was saying,” he continued, still without the slightest alteration in his somber demeanor. “Because of my caseload and Dr. Schwartz’s schedule, all procedures will be done in the evenings, here, after office hours.”
“That’s fine,” she assured hurriedly.
“Even with your full life?”
Oh, he was nasty! But Ella wasn’t going to let him get the best of her. “I told you I’m willing to do whatever is necessary,” she informed him.
“Well, it will be necessary for you to meet with me so I can outline what the study entails. And that will have to be after hours, too, because I don’t have any other time for it.”
He leaned forward and scanned a desk calendar. “Today is Thursday and I’m busy tonight, so that’s out. I have to be at a conference all day and evening Saturday and Sunday, and Monday evening is when the study is slated to begin,” he said, more as if he was thinking out loud than explaining his time constraints to her. “I can skip the conference’s opening ceremony and dinner tomorrow night, but I have a meeting after that that I’ll have to get to. So that has to be it. And since the hour I’m with you will be my single chance to eat, we’ll have to do it over a meal.”
Hardly a gracious invitation but she would take what she could get. “Just tell me where and when,” she said.
He did, without missing a beat or even inquiring if she minded going to the heart of Boston to the hotel where his conference was being held to make it convenient for him.
“I’ll be there,” she said after writing the time and location in her day planner and returning it to her purse.
“I’ll keep your file,” he informed her then, standing and taking it with him as he did. “Have Bev give you the paperwork you’ll need to fill out—everyone else has already done that.”
“Okay. And I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
His only answer was to raise an eyebrow at her just before he rounded the desk and walked out of the office as abruptly as he’d entered it, not so much as saying goodbye to her.
But despite his bad manners Ella felt relief on two fronts.
The renowned Dr. Jacob Weber was going to give her one last chance to have a baby.
And he didn’t seem to remember either her name or the scandal she’d been involved in in college.
Chapter Two
J acob Weber was awakened the next morning by warm, sloppy kisses.
“Ah, can’t you wait for the alarm just one morning?” he groused, keeping his eyes closed.
His only answer was more kisses. More kisses with even more enthusiasm. On his cheek, his nose, his ear, his brow…
“Okay, okay, I get the message,” he said, opening his eyes to the tiny black schnauzer puppy he’d been sharing his bed with for the past four weeks.
He couldn’t be angry, though. Not when he was looking into the furry face of the three-pound dog standing on his pillow with her head down, her shiny black nose an inch away from his, her butt up and her stubby tail wagging gaily in the air.
If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she was smiling at him.
He pretended to be more peeved than he actually was now that he was awake and said, “Have you forgotten that I’m the guy who found you abandoned on the street and kept you alive by feeding you with an eyedropper and then a baby bottle until you figured out how to lap up that special formula the vet charges me an arm and leg for? The least you could do is let me sleep until six-thirty.”
The schnauzer clearly had no sense of guilt. She merely barked a tiny, high-pitched yip to emphasize her point.
And her point, Jacob knew, was that she wanted to go outside. Not something he could deny her when, even though she still needed concentrated care, he was making headway in housebreaking her. But only tentative headway. Delays were not tolerated for long. Which the second yip warned him of.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m getting up,” he said, rolling out of bed and reaching for the sweatpants he’d learned in the past four weeks to keep at the ready.
As he pulled them on he couldn’t help chuckling at the sight of the puppy playing tug-of-war with the edge of his sheet, growling and shaking her head furiously in the battle.
“That’s it, Champ, give it hell. Live up to your name. You’re nothing if not feisty,” he said.
The mention of feistiness brought with it another thought, this one of the woman he’d met in his office the day before. The woman who had been coming much—much—too easily to mind since he’d met her. Ella Gardner.
Ella Gardner.
Feisty and determined. Like Champ.
Jacob couldn’t help smiling to himself when he recalled her I-don’t-need-a-man speech. What had she said about herself? That she was a capable, independent person who didn’t have time to wait for Mr. Right, the sequel….
“Mr. Right, the sequel,” he repeated out loud, chuckling again. “I liked that one,” he informed Champ as he scooped her up in one hand and took her downstairs and out the back door of his two story townhouse.
The