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I refused to answer, but she had a point. I took another gulp of coffee, immediately tasting the off-putting flavor. As I swallowed, something small and lumpy knocked around inside my mouth. I gagged.
It was a fucking raisin.
I sprang to my feet and rushed to the sink. My stomach heaved; I was about to throw up. I spit the foul black demon out of my mouth and began retching while my eyes watered. Later, I found out that the entire cup of coffee was loaded with them. Fuck, it was nasty.
When I could finally speak again, I looked over my shoulder at her with disgust and just the tiniest bit of admiration. “You better watch your back, woman. This means war.”
Her smile was cunning. “You know, Kaylie offered to pay me triple what you pay. You’re going to miss me when those twins are born.”
Chapter 2
Lacey
I stepped into the swanky reception area of the doctor’s office in Beverly Hills. I’d waited close to six months for this appointment and it couldn’t have come at a better time.
Walking across the white marble floor, I approached the reception desk to check in, right on time.
The lovely receptionist, with her incredibly flawless skin and blindingly white teeth, smiled up at me. “I’m sorry. The doctor is running late today. A few complications arose with a procedure this morning, so he’s behind. The wait will be at least another 45 minutes. Would it be more convenient for you to reschedule?”
No, it wouldn’t be more convenient to reschedule. At all. It had taken me forever to get a consultation with this world-renowned doctor. I wasn’t going anywhere.
I’d been waiting long enough. The clock was ticking. Figuratively — I looked down at my Blancpain diamond watch with the mother-of-pearl dial and ostrich leather strap — and quite literally.
“No, I’ll wait.”
She nodded serenely. “Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee? Perrier?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Her head tilted slightly. “Please have a seat and we’ll get to you as soon as we can.”
The waiting room wasn’t utilitarian, like an ordinary doctor’s office. Everything was done in shades of white, including the walls, curtains, furniture, and floor, but it didn’t feel sterile. It was elegant. The furniture was plush and inviting – small tufted sofas with throw pillows — instead of the vinyl-covered chairs that you’d normally see. Elegant lamps lit the room and expensive artwork broke up the white walls. Soothing music was gently playing in the background and the scent of lavender was diffused into the air.
The entire effect should have been calming, but I was a bundle of nerves.
I sat down on one of the small sofas and crossed my legs. There was one other person in the room, presumably another patient who was waiting to be seen. A quick scan of her ivory suit, obscenely expensive handbag, shoes, and jewelry told me that she was quite wealthy. She was probably thinking the same exact thing about me as she looked me over. She smiled faintly and then returned her attention to her phone.
As I sat on the couch and waited, I wondered what people would think if they could see me now. What would my father think? Or my 81 employees? What would the posse of kickass girls — the one that shrunk every year as they got married off — the posse that worshipped me as their ‘queen b’ think? Or how about the many men whose hearts I’d crushed under my lethal stilettos over the years?
Would they feel sorry for me? Think I was pathetic? Or would they be impressed with what an empowered woman I was? Probably a mixture of all of that. I wasn’t even sure what I thought of myself, but I wasn’t going to dwell on any insecurities I was harboring. I was a tough bitch — an expert at pushing away any unwanted emotion.
The white door across the room opened, and a nurse poked her head into the room and addressed my silent companion. “Mrs. Davis? We’re almost finished up in here. We’ll be ready for you in about ten minutes.”
The lady in the white Chanel suit raised her hand in acknowledgment. It trembled faintly as she placed it back on her lap.
I averted my eyes, but it was too late. She had caught me watching.
“I’m here to see if my embryo transfer was successful.” Her face remained neutral, but her voice wobbled slightly.
“Oh.” I was startled that she’d shared that with me. “Good luck to you.”
She placed her long fingers at the base of her throat as if trying to ease the tension there. “This is our second attempt. The first one failed. We just got married, and we’re trying to have a baby. I’ll be 44 in a month.”
I folded my hands on my lap, not quite knowing what to say. “I hope it works out.”
She nodded. “It’s a real bitch going through this. Don’t wait.”
I pressed my lips together but didn’t say anything.
