The Pregnancy Project

Once she was dressed she checked the small mirror on one wall to make sure her mascara wasn’t smudged and no stray curls had escaped the scrunchee at her crown. Then she grabbed her purse off the massage table that had replaced the exam table to accommodate the acupuncture, and opened the door.

Jacob was out in the receptionist’s area, all right. Across the hall and down several feet, sitting with one hip on the corner of the desk, looking at something in yet another file.

Because the door hadn’t made a sound, he didn’t seem aware that she was standing there—although if tonight was anything like the beginning portion of Friday night, he could just be ignoring her. But she opted for giving him the benefit of the doubt and for a moment used the opportunity to take in the sight of him.

He was dressed much as he had been both times she’d seen him before—tan slacks, a multicolored plaid shirt and brown tie beneath a sport coat. He looked freshly shaven and it occurred to Ella that if that was the case, it surely didn’t have anything to do with her. He probably had another meeting tonight, she thought.

Or maybe even a date.

Why the idea of him having a date disturbed her she didn’t know. But she did tamp down that disturbance by reminding herself this was a purely professional relationship. With a man who was more often unlikable than likable. So regardless of what he had planned for the remainder of the evening that had prompted a second shave, she would just say good-night and leave.

And ignore that sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach when she imagined that he was merely waiting for her to get out of there in order to pick up some other woman to take out on the town….