Chapter 2

"This is Ella,"I say as I pick up my cell phone from my nightstand. I already know who it is because I have a ringtone set just for the agency.

"Hey Ella, we got a request for you this morning. Think you can do an interview this afternoon?" Jenny asks in her always-chipper voice. It doesn't matter what time of the day it is or how busy she is, she always sounds happy.

I glance over at the clock. I should have gotten up thirty minutes ago, but I'm still adjusting to being able to sleep through the night. Out of habit I wake up every few hours thinking there's a baby to check on, only to remember after sitting up that there isn't.

I see that it's already ten o'clock and I have a doctor's appointment at eleven. I'm going to have to get a move on it. It's another reason I had trouble sleeping last night. I keep having nightmares that they're going to tell me that something is wrong with me and I can't have a baby. Nightmare scenarios like that play through my mind all the time. Then the nagging thought that I'm doing the wrong thing pops up. I keep pushing that one aside, thinking it's just me being scared of doing this alone, but I know I can. I love babies and they love me. I'm good with them, and I'm going to be a great mom.

"It would have to be after one," I tell her, sitting up and stifling a yawn. "If that doesn"t work maybe just get someone else?" I fling my feet over the side of the bed and rub the sleep out of my eyes.

"No, this was a request for you specifically. I'll text you all the details."

"Thanks," I tell her before hanging up.

I need to get my butt moving. I hop into the shower, making quick work of my morning routine before wandering into my closet to find something to wear. I'd planned for something casual, but it looks like I'll likely be rushing from the clinic to my job interview.

It isn't uncommon for me to hop from one job to the next, and most of the ones I get are referrals. This could possibly be my last job as a live-in baby nurse.If I get pregnant right away, that is. I wonder how I'll transition into being a regular nurse at a hospital or family practice. I know once I have a baby I can no longer be live-in. I haven't even gotten pregnant and I'm already thinking way too many steps ahead.

I settle on a simple white dress that falls to my knees with a blazer and flats. I go back into the bathroom and put on some mascara and lip gloss before brushing my hair out one last time. I grab my purse and my phone as I head out, then walk down the street to catch the bus. Maybe I should look into getting a car.

I don't have much need for one, but I'm guessing with a baby of my own I will. I make a note in my phone to look up the safest family vehicles. When I get on the bus I look at the information Jenny sent over, pulling up the address on Google Maps to determine if I'll need to call a taxi or if a bus will get me there.

I see that I'll be meeting with a man. Brooks Renshaw. The name sounds familiar, but I can't place it. When the online map comes up I realize why the name sounded familiar. Renshaw Banking is the biggest in the state and is on track to become one of the biggest in the country. For all I know, it already is.

Everyone knows who Brooks Renshaw is because of how successful he was at a young age. Something about being good at the stock market, if I recall. There isn't much more I know about him. I can't even remember if I've seen a picture of him before. I see that our meeting is going to be at his office. I look down at my dress and wonder if I'm underdressed. I remind myself I'm a freaking nurse and not a business woman. I'm not applying for a job at one of his branches.

Maybe I should Google him. I'm sure it will tell me something about his wife. When I type in his name the first thing that comes up is a picture of him, and my breath catches. No, I'm pretty sure I've never seen a picture of him before now, because this is not a man to be missed. Everything about him radiates power and dominance. From his dark hair to his dark eyes. I click on another picture, confirming what I already thought. The power rolls off him. He's a big man, and in the picture he's with a few other men, but he easily towers over all of them. It isn't just his height either; he's big all over. None of the pictures I'm scrolling through show him with a woman either. I also don't notice a ring on his finger.

I click the Wikipedia link on him, hoping that will give me something, but it lists him as single. Interesting. Maybe they're keeping a low profile on it or something. I feel a trace of guilt for the attraction I felt when I first saw the picture of Brooks. He belongs to someone else. I need to remember that. I've never once had thoughts like that before about a client. It's a little unsettling. I've also never had an instant attraction to a man either. Normally I have to force myself to go on dates, hoping that one will maybe grow over time. But it never does.

I look up when I hear the bus driver call my stop. I put my phone away and exit. It's only a short walk to the doctor's office, and I stand outside looking up at the building. I'm not as excited as I thought I would be. Something doesn't feel right. When I was a little girl and I played with my dolls, this was never how I saw this happening. I shake my head at myself, trying to shake off the pity party I'm having for myself.

I walk into the doctor's office, pasting on a smile I don't feel. I fill out the paperwork and go through all the motions, but I swear I'm not taking it in. It isn't until the doctor sets down a pile of folders in front of me that I finally snap out of the trance I'd fallen under.

"These are possible donors," she tells me, sliding the folders towards me. I hesitate for a moment before reaching out and taking them. I sit there with them, but I don't open any. "Take them home and look over them. If you have any questions, feel free to call or shoot me an email," she adds.

"Thank you," I respond, not looking at her. My eyes are still locked on the folders. I don't want to pick them up.

"We'll have your test results back soon and I'll call you then," the doctor says, then stands. I follow suit, knowing I have to take these folders with me. I finally reach out and grab them, pulling them to my chest. I wish I'd brought a bigger bag with me. The doctor must read my face because she opens a drawer and takes out a bag for me to place the files into.

"Thanks," I tell her as we exit her office. When I step out onto the busy street I feel nothing like I thought I would. I thought I'd be more excited, but it feels more like a realization that I'm not getting the life that I'd always dreamed about.

I look up, thinking someone is staring at me. I glance around but don't see anyone near me. Everyone is coming and going like another normal busy day in the city. Pulling out my phone, I text my mom and tell her everything went great so she doesn"t worry. She'd wanted to come with me, saying she'd call out of work, but I told her I'd be fine.

I don"t feel fine. In fact, I've never felt more uncertain in my life.