swept across his brow, revealing an intensity she hadn’t expected, an emotion she couldn’t quite peg.
She glanced at her watch, a silver bangle style, then looked up at him and smiled. “But I have a little time. We can talk out in the lobby.”
“Why don’t we go to the cafeteria?” he asked. “I’ll buy you a cup of coffee, latte or whatever.”
The suggestion took her by surprise. And so did the boyish grin that set off an impish glimmer in his blue eyes.
“Please?” he asked.
She was certainly tempted. She also had a few questions she’d like to ask him. From the first moment she’d scanned the audience and spotted him sitting front and center, his hat lying on the chair next to him, she’d wondered about him. So what would it hurt to spend a few minutes with him in the cafeteria?
“All right. Coffee actually sounds good.”
His smile broadened, lighting up those eyes like a Texas summer sky and knocking her completely off stride.
How was that possible? She’d never been into cowboys. Not that there was anything wrong with them. It’s just that she’d always dated professional men.
Dated? Now that was a joke. When was the last time she’d had a date? Not since settling in Brighton Valley, that was for sure.
She noticed that he seemed to favor his left leg.
A new injury? she wondered. Or an old one?
Either way, she found herself heading to the cafeteria with a man who wanted to “pick her brain.”
* * *
The cafeteria in the wellness center was actually a small counter area just off the lobby called The Health Nut, where they sold coffee and tea, as well as various waters, energy drinks, fruit juices and smoothies. They also provided nutritious snacks for people on the run.
While Dr. Ramirez carried her cup of coffee to one of several tables set out for those people who had more time on their hands, Alex paid with a twenty, then joined her.
“Thanks for giving me a few minutes of your time,” he said as he took a seat next to hers.
“No problem.”
“You’re probably wondering why I signed up for your class,” Alex said, his hands braced around the disposable cup.
“When I first spotted you sitting alone in the front row, I thought you might be a reporter,” she said.
“I’m afraid not. I actually came to learn more about the topic you’ll address during week three.”
“Surrogacy?”
He nodded, then lifted his cup and took a sip. “My late wife and I had planned to have children through in vitro fertilization. We’d gotten through the fertilization process. And after the first attempt at implantation failed, we finally managed to get pregnant, but...” He paused for a moment, then glanced down at the coffee in his cup, while he relived the phone call he’d received from the sheriff’s office, telling him that Mary had been involved in a car accident, that she was being rushed to the Brighton Valley Medical Center E.R., that she...might not make it.
“But...?” the doctor prodded.
Alex sucked it up, the memory, the grief, the guilt, the promise he was determined to keep. “My wife died when she was twenty weeks pregnant.”
“I’m sorry.” The softness in the doctor’s voice, the light cadence of her accent, provided an unexpected balm to feelings that were still raw at times.
It seemed surreal now, like a bad dream. But he gave a half shrug, as if that was all there was to it, when, in truth, it was all too complicated to explain.
“So how can I help?” she asked, the sincerity in her tone, the sympathy in her eyes making him wonder if she just might hold the key to everything.
So he took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “I still have two embryos left, and I want to hire a surrogate to carry them. But I need to learn more about the process—the pitfalls, that sort of thing. I’ll be looking for someone healthy and of sound mind. I also want to feel completely assured that whoever I choose won’t have a change of heart after the implantation. You know what I mean?”
“Absolutely. Your concerns are all valid, and you’re wise to learn all you can before making any decisions.”
“So how do I go about finding the right surrogate?”
“What you’re actually looking for is a gestational carrier because you don’t need a woman to donate any of her eggs. Of course, with only two remaining embryos, you’ll have only one shot at implanting them.”
“If it doesn’t work, I’ll deal with it.” He wasn’t interested in going through the whole process again, unless he needed to down the line. But then again, the first go-round had been way too clinical for him to ever want to go through it again.
The doctor nodded, as if she understood.
“So where do I start?” he asked.
“You can, of course, try to find someone on your own. Oftentimes a friend or a family member will help. But there are also several reputable agencies, most of which are based in Houston, that can help you. I’d planned to give a list of them to the class during the third week, but if you’ll be here next Tuesday, I can give you one then.”
“That would be great.” He tossed her a warm, appreciative grin, glad he’d come tonight, glad he’d asked her to have coffee with him. “I’ll definitely be back next week and would like that list, so thank you.”
“I’m sure you’ve invested a lot in the process already, but you’re looking at another big investment.”
Alex knew that, but he could afford it. And even if he couldn’t, he hadn’t touched any of the insurance money he’d received after Mary’s death yet.
Still, he wanted to be sure he’d been given the right scoop. “I’ve heard it can cost up to a hundred grand, plus medical expenses.”
“That sounds about right, although it varies with each agency. And with each carrier. Those with a proven track record will cost more.” Dr. Ramirez lifted her cup and took a drink.
It was weird, Alex thought. Here he was, sitting across from a beautiful woman, having coffee as if they were friends, yet he didn’t even know her first name.
He wouldn’t ask—at least, not now.
“You must have loved your wife a lot,” she said. “The whole surrogacy/implantation process can be daunting at times, especially when someone has to go through it alone.”
To be honest, Alex hadn’t been very receptive to the idea when Mary had first mentioned in vitro. He’d thought it sounded too cold, too unnatural. But rather than admit to Dr. Ramirez that he’d been less than enthusiastic at the start of the whole process, he said, “Mary was a good wife and would have
