The Question (8 page)

“Yes?” he asked inquiringly, eyebrow raised for emphasis.

“I need to know what your expectations are,” Gail said a little nervously, not sure how he would react.

“Are you asking me my intentions? Isn’t it a little early in the relationship for this conversation?” he asked playfully.

“No, not intentions, expectations. What do you expect from me? I’m concerned that you may want more from me than I can give. I don’t want to inadvertently hurt you.”

Greg’s playful manner dropped, and once again, she saw the serious man from this morning. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for, then I’ll answer your question.”

Fair enough, she thought, although this wasn’t what she planned. She took a deep breath before moving to mirror his position, arm on the back of the couch, turned to face him. She gave him a searching look before responding. She was reluctant to put into words the feelings of which she’d recently become aware, concerned it would leave her feeling too exposed. But, she realized if she couldn’t be open with him now about what she needed, there was no sense in this going any further, and she was strangely reluctant to call a halt to things.  At least, not before she saw what could potentially develop.

“I miss having a man in my life. I miss having a male point of view. I miss being a part of a twosome, a couple, and to be honest, even though I’m not sure I’m ready for it yet, I miss sex. Not the scratch an itch variety of one-night stands, but the comfortable sex that comes from knowing and caring for your lover and being cared for in return.”

“You want a lover.”

Gail mentally shied away from putting that label on what she was looking for. “Maybe, eventually. But first, I want a friend.” She searched his face for understanding, knowing she wasn’t explaining herself well. It was hard to articulate what she wanted. Hard to explain the need she felt deep in her heart with every fiber of her being.

Greg reached out and cupped her check with his hand. Leaning forward, he kissed her slowly and lingeringly. Gail’s eyes closed automatically as she sank into the heady sensation of being kissed for the first time in years. Oh so slowly, he drew back.

When her eyes opened and she was once again able to focus on his face, he said, “I’ll be your friend, for now, but eventually, I’ll be your lover. I’ve waited this long. I can wait until you’re ready for more.”

Unconsciously, Gail’s tongue slowly slipped out to lick her lips, bringing his flavor into her mouth for a taste. 

Heat flared in his eyes and his face hardened as his eyes followed the movement.  “I’m trying to be good here, but you’re making it difficult for me. If there’s nothing else, we need to leave before I forget all of my good intentions,” he told her bluntly.

He made a move to stand but stopped when Gail placed her hand on his thigh. She snatched it back when she felt the muscles stiffen beneath her hand and he froze as though turned to stone. Her hand had been uncomfortably close to the bulge in his pants.

“Before we go,” she said quickly, trying to distract her mind from the hard-on he was sporting in his pants, “there’s something else you need to know about me.”

He leaned forward and braced his hands on his knees. “Whatever it is, tell me quickly. My control is hanging on by a thread.”

She rushed into speech. “I’m about four months pregnant with twins. You should know because if we start dating, people are going to assume they’re yours.”

She fell back against the couch with a gasp as he loomed over her. “Who’s the father?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Scratch that. Were you raped? ‘Cause I know damned well you didn’t go to his bed willingly, did you?”

“What! No! It’s nothing like that. I agreed to be a surrogate mother for my best friend and her husband.” Gail was shocked by his reaction.

Greg drew back with a frown. “Let me get this straight. Your friend asked you to be a surrogate for her, knowing you’d already lost one child? Are you sure she’s your friend?”

“Yes! Well, she can be a little flighty sometimes, but we’ve been friends since junior high. She’s really been there for me through the years. Helping Crystal and Rashid have a child of their own is the least I could do after the way they stood by and supported me when I lost Jason and Marcus.”  Gail defended Crystal, even though in her heart of hearts, there was a part of her that agreed with his assessment.

“Un-huh, I’m sure you’d know better than I.” He held his hand out and let it hover over her stomach. “May I?”

“Yeah, sure.” She held still as he placed his hand on the small mound of her belly.

“You’re not very large. Is this why you fainted at the office?” his hand measured the roundness of her stomach, massaging it lightly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll blow up soon enough. And yes, this was the reason for my fainting spell. I kept getting sick so I wasn’t eating. The doctor put me on bed rest until I could keep my food down and gain back some of the weight I lost.”

“Speaking of food, let’s go and get you fed. I don’t want you sick again. You just got back to work. I couldn’t handle another long absence.” He stood to his feet and reached for her. Gail took the hand he extended and allowed him to help her to stand.  “You’re sure you’re alright now?”

“I’m fine. Dr. Hagan said now that I’m in my second trimester, things should go much smoother.”

“Well, I still think your friend’s got a screw loose for asking you to do something like this, but if you need me for anything, just call and I’ll come running. What’s the deal with your friend anyway? Why can’t she have her own kids or adopt like everyone else?” he asked as they walked out of the door.

“She’s had several miscarriages,” she said as they entered the elevator. “The doctors don’t know what’s causing them but the last one almost took her life. She really wants a child of her own but says she’ll settle for one fathered by her husband. As for why she asked me, she doesn’t trust anyone else. She’d rather the eggs come from me than some faceless stranger.”

Greg cupped her elbow as he escorted her to his car.  “So, does she go with you to the doctor? How involved are they in this process?”

“Very. I spent the time that I was on bed rest with them in their home. Crystal’s been to all of my appointments except one. We agreed that she would be to all of them, as much as humanly possible, so that she can feel connected to the babies even before they are born. Rashid has recently started coming as well. The first one he attended was as a fill-in for Crystal. Now he’s really intense and focused about the whole thing, wanting to be involved with every aspect of the pregnancy. It’s annoying, but it’s not like I can deny him. They’re his children. I’m just the incubator,” she said with a laugh.

“Is that how you see yourself?”

“It’s the only way I can afford to view myself. I have life growing in my womb, but I can’t allow myself to become emotionally attached or think of them as my own.”

“That’s very wise of you. You’re a strong woman. Not many women could do what you’re doing, especially considering what you’ve been through.”

Gail sighed. “It’s not strength. It’s an inability to say no to a close friend. I just hope this whole thing doesn’t come crashing down on our heads,” she said grimly.

“It’s a delicate situation, that’s for sure. Most surrogates aren’t this closely involved with the adoptive parents, and they usually have families of their own to keep them from getting too attached. You have none of that. What happens if you decide not to give the child up?”

“Twins. I’m carrying twins,” she reminded him, “and I don’t see that happening. Legally, Rashid is already the father of these children. The only portion remaining is for Crystal to complete the stepparent adoption once the babies are born. She’s going to make a wonderful mother, and she’s waited a long time to have one of her own,” Gail said firmly. Keeping these babies was not something she was emotionally equipped to do. It didn’t even bear thinking about.

“I know it’s too late now, but put my mind at ease and assure me you at least had good legal representation,” he said, his legal side peeking out.

“I’m a paralegal, remember? I know how not to get screwed by contracts. The terms were very generously in my favor. Too generous, according to Florida law. I tried to get Rashid to dispense with the compensation but he wouldn’t budge,” Gail finished with a huff of remembered frustration.

They arrived at their destination, one of the expensive restaurants located near the Riverwalk downtown. Greg turned off the car then turned to Gail before getting out. “I know it’s not my business and I’m not your man – not yet anyhow – but I would really like to take a look at the paperwork you signed, for my satisfaction. I know they’re your friends but I’d like to see for myself that you haven’t been taken advantage of.”

“You may not be my man but you are my friend, and because of that, I’ll let you review them. Just remember, I may only be a paralegal but I have a law degree hanging on my living room wall at home,” she reminded him with a laugh.

Greg got out and came around to escort her from the car. Once they were seated at the table and had placed their drink order, he resumed the conversation. “That’s one thing I don’t understand. You have the degree. Hell, you passed the Bar. You could be practicing law. Why are you wasting your training working as a paralegal?”

Gail leaned back in her chair and allowed her gaze to drift around the restaurant while she composed her answer. “I love the law. I always have. I love studying it, researching it, and surrounding myself with it. What I didn’t like was being a lawyer. I don’t have the heart for it, I guess. Let someone else play in the courtroom. That’s not for me.”

“You don’t have to be a trial lawyer. There are plenty of areas where you could practice that don’t include court. Why don’t you try one of those?”

“I considered corporate or family law. One was too time consuming and the other too heartbreaking. With the way folks are today, everything has the potential to end up before a judge, even probate. Being a paralegal allows me to work in the field that I love without having to put in all the crazy hours you guys work. I come in, do what needs doing, and go home. My work stays at the office, and I’m a lot less stressed at the end of the day.”

The waiter came back to the take their orders. Gail allowed Greg to order for both of them.  When the waiter left, Greg picked up where they left off.  “I see your point, but you’d make more money as a lawyer.”

Gail threw back her head laughed.  “Money isn’t everything. Besides, with the hours you put in on a case, who’s really making more? I have a job I’m happy with. That’s important to me.  All the money in the world wouldn’t mean a thing if I hated what I was doing.”

“That’s one thing I like about you. Most women look at me and see dollar signs. Not you. You’re the first woman in a long time to make me work for a date. Most throw themselves at me at the slightest sign of interest on my part.”

Gail reached out a hand and touched his face briefly, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. “Are you sure it’s your money they’re attracted to? You’re a very handsome man.”

Greg was the very embodiment of tall, dark, and handsome. If he weren’t a lawyer, he could make a killing modeling, with his tanned skin, black hair, and deep, dark eyes. His hair was too long to fit his conservative profession, and he wore it pulled back into a short, curly queue at the nape of his neck. In one ear, he wore a diamond stud, giving him a rakish look. He looked like the playboy that he was, and she’d seen women fall all over themselves trying to attract his attention.

He grasped her hand as she drew it back and held it in his own on the table.  “It’s nice to know you find me attractive. You brushed me off so many times that I was beginning to think you were immune to my charms. Either that or I was the wrong color. Is that a problem for you?”

“You mean the fact that you’re white and I’m not?” He nodded. “No, not really. I’ve never dated outside of my race before, so this will be really different for me. But in this instance, that’s a good thing. At least I won’t be mentally comparing you to Jason at every turn.”  Jason had been African-American like herself with a dark complexion. She used to refer to him as her Hershey bar.

“The last thing I want is to be compared to another man, especially your sainted, deceased husband.”  Greg released her hand and sat back as the first course was served.

“Sainted?” she echoed sharply.

“You know what I mean. Your husband was a good man. Even if he wasn’t, death tends to lessen people’s memory of the bad, humanizing things of the decease’s nature and they remember only the good, elevating the deceased to a sainted status. There is no way that I could compete. I’d always fall short.”

Gail’s mouth gaped as her fork hung in mid-air over her food. “You’re right. I never thought of it that way. We’re taught as children not to speak ill of the dead, whether they deserved it or not. I knew plenty women who wouldn’t date a widower, for the reason you just cited. Although I’m a widow and in a better position to understand someone else’s pain, I still would have to think twice about accepting an invitation from one,” Gail was able to admit.

“Fortunately for you, accepting other men’s invitations is not something you have to worry about.” His look challenged her to disagree with his claim of exclusive rights to her company.

She let the challenge pass, not willing to make it an issue, especially not on a first date. She’d wait and see what happened when and if an invitation from another man presented itself. For the rest of the meal, they spoke of mundane things—happenings at the office, mutual acquaintances of which Gail discovered were many, and general things men and women discussed when trying to establish a relationship apart from the office.