The Pregnancy Promise. Barbara McMahon

Lianne asked.

      “I was hoping I’d get a moment alone with you. I’d like to invite you to dinner, if you’re free.”

      “I’d love to,” she replied. Had a script been written out, it couldn’t have gone better.

      “Tonight?” Mark asked.

      “Terrific,” she said, smiling. Her heart didn’t skip a beat. There was no sense of weightlessness or flutter of excitement. But Mark was entertaining and maybe feelings would develop. She couldn’t expect love at first sight. That was surely a fantasy in books.

      Tray was in a meeting when she returned to work. She wanted to let him know about her dinner date, but couldn’t leave a message with his secretary. She hoped the cryptic note would clue him in.

      The afternoon flew by. Tray stopped at her desk at one point, on his way to meet with some of the operatives.

      “So?” he said, holding up the note she’d left.

      “Date tonight,” she said.

      He nodded and moved on. Lianne watched him walk away. She was disappointed he didn’t want to know more. He’d set it up, wasn’t he more curious? Sighing, she turned back to the analysis she was working on. He’d know soon enough if she and Mark would make a match of it.

      Her phone rang.

      “Lianne,” she answered, glancing at the time. Another hour or so and she’d take off.

      “Hey, thought you were coming to see me when you got back from the cottage,” her sister said without preamble.

      “It was late last night and I came to work early this morning.”

      “Obviously. I called before but you were busy. You doing okay?” Annalise asked.

      “I’m hanging in there, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

      “Feeling okay?”

      “Much better.” Lianne sighed softly. It was a day-by-day thing at the time of her period. The rest of the time her life seemed normal.

      “I’ve been thinking what you need is a social life to find some man to fall for,” Annalise said.

      “I’m ahead of you there, I have a date tonight.”

      “Really, who with?”

      “Tray introduced me to one of his friends.”

      “Why would he do that?” Annalise asked.

      “I told him about the situation.”

      “He came to the cottage, didn’t he? I thought he might when he almost browbeat me into giving out where you were. Were you okay with that?”

      “Yes, that was fine. He listened to my tale of woe and came up with this idea—meet his friend who used to be married and wants to be married again. Maybe we’ll hit it off. We all had lunch together today and Mark asked me to dinner tonight.” She didn’t tell Annalise about Tray’s help for two days. Her sister would jump to erroneous conclusions.

      “Fast worker. How are you feeling about that?”

      “He seems nice.”

      “Yuck, the kiss of death. No one wants to be nice. If he’s only nice, he’s not for you.”

      Lianne laughed. “Don’t be silly. Of course I want a nice man for a husband. What—do you think I should have someone not nice?”

      “How would you describe your boss?”

      Lianne went still for a moment. “Why?”

      “I figured you would fall for someone like him. You and I are alike and he’s the closest man to Dominic I know.”

      “He’s nothing like your husband.”

      “Maybe not superficially, but they both have that rock-hard center, they know their way around the world and give me the feeling of being able to take on anything—and come out the winner.”

      Lianne nodded, then realized her sister couldn’t see her. “I guess. But I’m definitely not his type. His latest girlfriend could be a super model. Thin, beautiful and sophisticated.”

      “You’re pretty and sophisticated,” Annalise said.

      Lianne laughed. “I noticed you left out the thin part. But I’m not in her league, not that I want to be. Tray’s not for me. Anyway, I’ll let you know more about Mark after dinner tonight. Gotta go.” She hung up and returned to her task. Her and Tray? Where did Annalise come up with such an idea? She would not give that a moment’s thought. They were work colleagues—nothing more.

      It was after eleven by the time Lianne returned home. Dinner had been at one of the “in” restaurants in Washington. Even on a Thursday evening it had been crowded. Mark had reserved a table so there’d been no wait. Lianne wondered how he’d managed that.

      She kicked off her shoes and went into the kitchen. Putting the kettle on, she got tea from the cupboard. A cup of chamomile would help her relax. She yawned, feeling her cheek muscles protest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled so much. Be polite, she could hear her mother’s voice echoing throughout the night.

      The phone rang. She went to answer, noticing the flashing light on her answering machine.

      “So how did it go?” Tray asked when she answered.

      Lianne was surprised to hear from him. Annalise she expected.

      “All right.”

      “Only all right?”

      “He’s nice.”

      “But?”

      “Does there have to be a but?” she asked, stalling. Mark was Tray’s friend.

      “Yes, with that lead-in, there does.”

      She hesitated a moment. It would serve no purpose to delay, time wouldn’t change anything. “He’s nice and still hung up on his ex-wife. If I had to listen to another word about how he’d screwed up and how she’d been an angel only he hadn’t seen it in time, I thought I would scream.”

      “The man has rocks for brains,” Tray said. “Did he talk about her all night?”

      “No. That’s what is sort of sad. He’d talk about something, then end up talking about her. Once he’d realize he was doing that, he’d stop and try another topic, segueing back to his ex. I think he really wants to be over her, but he’s not.”

      “Are you seeing him again?”

      “No.”

      The silence stretched out for several seconds.

      “Maybe I know someone else,” Tray said slowly.

      “Forget it. Annalise knows some men she says are right up my alley. I’ll see how I get along with them. It’s my own fault. I love my job, you know that. I still should have done more about a social life before now.”

      “This was only the first day of your campaign.”

      “You make it sound like a war strategy.” It wasn’t at all like she hoped. She pictured herself as happy as her twin when she fell in love. Now the entire thing sounded analytical and deliberate. Where was the happiness in all this? Was the price of a baby going to be too high?

      “It is a kind of strategy. You need to find the right match.”

      “Mmm. It’s early, I know, but what if I don’t find someone I can even think of going to bed with?”

      “Was that the real problem with Mark?”

      She thought about it a moment. “Yes. No matter what, I couldn’t see myself getting intimate with the man.”

      “It was a first date,”