increased efficiency and decreased errors.
The wrong person could cause all sorts of unwanted drama. Hospital lore included a by-now-legendary clash between Keely Randolph and Dr. Tartikoff shortly after his arrival a few years ago. There’d been a spectacular scene when the abrasive Dr. T had dressed her down for an error and she’d blown up, calling him arrogant and egotistical before stalking out.
In view of her long history at Safe Harbor, she’d received a second chance with another obstetrician, Paige Brennan. Miraculously, the chemistry between them had proved stable rather than explosive. Keely spoke of her doctor in glowing terms, which in Lucky’s view was how a nurse should behave.
He smiled, remembering how Keely had stood up for Zora at the party, staving off Laird’s attempt to touch her. While his attentions hadn’t necessarily been sexual, Lucky wouldn’t put it past the man.
An image of Zora filled his mind as he recalled her unexpected offer to aid in his quest to expand the men’s program. Her teasing grin was irresistible, and who would have imagined a mother-to-be could radiate such sexy vibes? True, she’d been cute before she got pregnant, but Lucky had been too caught up in resenting her for Stacy’s and Cole’s sakes to take more than a passing notice.
Not that there was any risk of a romance developing between him and Zora. He would never fall for anyone who led such a messy life, and he didn’t appear to be her type, either. Judging by Andrew, she went for slick and manipulative, hardly adjectives that applied to a tattooed guy from a rough part of LA.
A guy who’d committed his share of mistakes and was determined not to repeat them, especially if a wife and children were at stake. If he were ever so blessed, Lucky vowed to be sure his family’s circumstances were as close to perfect as humanly possible. He’d give them a financial buffer. A protective circle of love, commitment and security. If he couldn’t be sure he could provide those things, he’d rather not risk marrying at all.
Lucky focused on the résumés on the computer screen. There were a number of nurses eager to work in such a prestigious environment with regular hours and benefits. He struggled to view them through the perspective of an employer instead of as a fellow nurse who’d spent a year on his own job search. More than ever, he appreciated Cole’s willingness to bring him on board.
Clicking open a new résumé, Lucky frowned in confusion. Was this a joke? Someone had inserted a slightly altered photo of Zora. Her face was narrower, but he’d recognize her anywhere.
Only the name on the file was Zady Moore. Zady, huh? He read on, prepared for humorous remarks, but the data seemed straightforward. This so-called Zady had grown up near Safe Harbor, just like Zora. Same age, too. In fact, same birth date.
She claimed to have a nursing degree and to work for a urologist in Santa Barbara, a couple of hours’ drive north of here. Switching to the internet, Lucky confirmed that there was indeed a Zady Moore listed in connection with that urologist’s office. If this was a hoax, someone had gone to great lengths.
The name Moore struck him as familiar. Oh, right. He’d seen mail addressed to Zora Moore Raditch.
Could Zora have a twin she’d never told him about? Or did she have a cousin with an eerily similar appearance and the same birth date?
The alarm on his watch shrilled, a reminder of his meeting with Edmond. Lucky set aside the résumé with several others marked for further consideration.
From the fourth floor, he took the stairs to the medical building lobby and strode out past the pharmacy into the late September sunshine. A salty breeze wafted from the ocean a mile to the south, while seagulls wheeled overhead.
Next door, the six-story hospital rose in front of him, a lovely sight with its curved wings. Remodeled half a dozen years earlier to specialize in fertility and maternity services, it had established a national reputation by hiring distinguished doctors such as Cole and Dr. T, and by adding state-of-the-art laboratories, surgical suites and equipment. As a result, the side-by-side buildings were bursting at the seams with staff and patients.
Lucky glanced across the circular drive at the vacant dental building that had been mired in bankruptcy proceedings. Once the bankruptcy judge allowed a sale, it would be snapped up fast. The corporation that owned Safe Harbor Medical Center had expressed interest in buying it, but had balked at the high price.
When Vince Adams had expressed interest in funding the growth of the men’s program, he’d seemed a gift from fate. Since then, Vince had demonstrated mood swings and a knack for throwing everyone off balance, but his donation remained the hospital’s best chance of acquiring the building and boosting the men’s fertility program to the next level.
Lucky entered the hospital via the staff door. Instantly, his senses registered tempting aromas from the cafeteria. Also nearby, the chatter of childish voices drifted from the day care center, to which he presumed Zora would soon be entrusting her babies.
As he shoved open the door to the stairs—Lucky seized any chance at exercise—he wondered how long he could go without nagging her. Somebody had to advocate for those kids, who deserved their father’s financial support even if he was incapable of acting like a real dad.
What about this Zady character? If she was a family member, Zora could sure use the help.
On the fifth floor, Lucky passed the executive offices and entered a smaller suite. The receptionist had apparently gone to lunch, and an inner door stood ajar. The placard read, Edmond Everhart, Family Law Consultant.
Lucky listened in case a client remained inside. Hearing no one, he rapped on the frame.
“Come in.” From behind the desk, Edmond rose to greet him. In his early thirties, like Lucky, and also about five-ten, the guy was impeccably dressed in a suit and tie. Only his rumpled brown hair revealed that he’d had a busy morning. All the same, there was nothing glib or calculating about him.
After shaking hands and taking a seat, Lucky went straight to the point. “I understand Vince Adams was souring on Safe Harbor until he talked to you. You spoke with him in public, so I presume client confidentiality doesn’t apply.”
“That’s true.” Leaning back, the attorney removed his glasses, plucked a microfiber cloth from the drawer and polished the lenses.
“I’m curious how you won him over, because—” Lucky couldn’t go into detail, since it involved Vince’s treatment “—just in case he changes his mind again. What upset him in the first place?”
“He felt disrespected because the whole hospital is aware that he has fertility issues,” Edmond said.
“A fact that he’s publicized with his own...statements.” Lucky had nearly said big mouth.
“Be that as it may, he believed people looked down on him because he can’t father children.”
“How’d you reassure him?”
“I shared a few personal details that put us on a par.” After a hesitation, Edmond continued, “I explained that I’d had a vasectomy and later regretted it.” His wife, Melissa, was carrying embryos donated by another couple. “I also asked his advice as a stepfather about parenting my niece while her mom’s in prison. I’m not sure why, but the conversation eased his mind.”
“My guess is that he felt you respected him,” Lucky mused. “Did he bring up anything else?”
Edmond reflected. “Yes. He’s frustrated with his wife’s refusal to consider in vitro. She wasn’t present, so I have no idea how she views the matter.”
Lucky recalled Zora’s comments. “And he rejects hiring a surrogate?” The hospital maintained a roster of screened candidates.
“That’s right.”
Wheels spun in Lucky’s head. “If we persuaded Mrs. Adams to change her mind, that ought to solve the problem.”
“It might,” Edmond said. “But is it wise to try