Only the Beginning (That’s My Baby #20)

Chapter One

“Please hold the elevator,” Heather Fitzpatrick called as she made a sincere but futile attempt to hurry toward the open doors.

She was nearly out of breath as she stepped inside.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile as she glanced at the man pressing the door open button.

“I’m not completely sure these are the slowest elevators in the eleven Western states, but I think they’re in the top ten.

” She rubbed the small of her back, trying to ease an ache that had settled there about three months ago and had yet to disappear.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of waiting ten minutes for the elevator to come back up to this floor. ”

“I’ll bet,” the man said, unable to take his gaze from her midsection.

By now Heather was used to men looking at her with expressions that bordered on panic.

While he was tall, dark-haired and handsome, she was a walking belly with stick arms and legs.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, resting her hand on the top of her stomach and leaning against the wall of the elevator.

“It looks worse than it is. According to my doctor, I have nearly a week until I pop or give birth, whichever comes first. I’m sure you’ll be safe for the short ride down to the parking level. ”

“Promise?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“No, but my doctor swears it’s true,” she told him. “I just saw her, and despite my pleas to the contrary, she’s sentenced me to several more days of incubating.”

“Sounds painful.”

“I’m ready for it to be over, but not just because I’m tired of being pregnant—” Heather rubbed her abdomen “—I’m anxious to meet my baby.”

The elevator doors crawled closed, creaking all the way.

After a couple of seconds, the car started a painfully slow descent.

Heather told herself to keep breathing. She normally didn’t notice time spent in an elevator, but her pregnancy and the hormones it produced had made her claustrophobic.

As if swollen ankles and stretch marks weren’t enough.

She watched the light come on for the third floor, then the second. She waited for the light indicating they’d passed the first floor and were on their way to the parking garage. Instead, the elevator suddenly stopped.

Her breath caught in her throat. The man pushed the door open button. Nothing happened.

“We’re stuck,” Heather said, trying not to panic.

“Maybe not,” the man told her. He pushed the button for the parking level again, then the door open button.

Heather felt her chest tightening. She was going to scream. She knew in her head that getting upset wouldn’t help, but she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to beat her fists against the side of the car and demand that someone let her out.

“You okay?” the man asked as he glanced up from the panel he’d been studying.

“Never better.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re not a good liar.”

“I always meant to be,” Heather said, trying to distract herself with conversation. “You know how it goes. As a child, one aspires to lie well, but there’s that whole honesty-is-the-best-policy thing, and somehow, I just couldn’t make it happen.”

He grinned. “As long as you have a goal. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll get us out of here if you won’t panic.”

“Sounds great. I’m perfectly calm, so you can go ahead and open the doors now.”

“Give me a second.” He picked up the phone under the control panel and waited.

“Yeah, we’re stuck in an elevator.” He paused and listened.

“If you’re facing the elevators, we’re in the one on the right.

” Another pause. “Okay, we’ll sit tight.

There are two of us and we’re fine.” He glanced at Heather. “Are you still fine?”

She nodded. She wasn’t really, but he undoubtedly didn’t want to hear about her fears or her urge to break down the doors.

He hung up the phone and faced her. “They think one of the fuses blew and the motor automatically shut down. Normally, it would take us to the ground floor, but this time it didn’t. So we’re going to be here for a few minutes while they get a new fuse and reset the controls.”

Heather eyed him. She wasn’t the only one who was a bad liar. He wouldn’t look directly at her.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He shoved his hands in his back pockets but still wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“Uh-huh. That’s like me saying I’m only a little bit pregnant. Come on. What did the guy say?”

Blue eyes finally looked at her face. “It’ll take close to an hour.”

“Are we at risk of falling?”

“No. We’re perfectly safe, but it’s gonna be a little while.”

She exhaled and felt some of her tension ease. “I think I can survive that.”

“You sure?”

He looked concerned. Heather allowed herself to savor the feeling, wondering when was the last time someone had worried about her.

Her doctor wanted to make sure she was eating right and taking her vitamins.

She had some friends at work who asked after her, her mother cared, but no one really worried.

“I swear, I’m fine.” She glanced around.

“But I do need to sit down.” Logically, she knew the floor was as far away as it had been ever since she’d stopped growing at thirteen.

But as her girth increased, floors had seemed farther and farther away.

And currently she felt as ungainly as a cow in mud.

The man took a step toward her. “How can I help?”

She held out her hand. “If you could just help me lower myself, that would be great.”

He grasped her hands firmly. She liked the feel of his strong fingers and the way he didn’t make a big deal out of her request. Bracing herself, she slid against the wall of the elevator, letting him slow her until she was finally sitting down.

Her cotton maternity dress billowed out around her and her skinny legs stuck out in front.

She was incredibly out of proportion. Sometimes she felt like a cartoon character.

“I’m Jim Dyer,” the man said as he sat down across from her.

“Heather Fitzpatrick.”

“Nice to meet you, Heather.”

He flashed her a dimple as he smiled. She’d never actually met a man with an honest-to-God dimple before.

It was nice, as were his blue eyes and the man himself.

His relaxed and comfortable manner made her feel better about the whole situation.

If she let herself, she just might forget that she was trapped in an elevator.

Uh-oh. It had been a mistake to think the “e” word.

There was a brief pause. Heather felt her anxiety growing, so she searched for a neutral topic of conversation.

Anything to distract herself from her tension, not to mention the steady pressure against her back.

The pain moved around her abdomen, but she figured that was just her uncomfortable position sitting on the floor.

“What do you do?” she asked.

“I own a helicopter charter company,” he said. “At the Van Nuys airport. I’m here getting my yearly physical so I can stay certified to fly.”

She eyed his broad shoulders and the healthy color in his face.

He wore a long-sleeved shirt tucked into khaki slacks, and worn boots.

Like most other living, breathing women, she could appreciate a man who had a well-proportioned body.

In her present oversize condition, she was even more aware of how nice it was to be normal.

She ripped her gaze away from his impressive biceps, told herself that a pregnant woman had no business staring at a good-looking man and tried to think of something clever to say.

Clever eluded her, so she settled on obvious. “You fly helicopters?”

“It comes with the business. I have pilots, but occasionally I do a run myself.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been up in one.”

“Do you like to fly?”

She thought of her lone trip to Florida to visit her mother. “‘Like’ is a strong term. I don’t mind it.”

“Commercial flying is different from a helicopter. You’re removed from the experience and you can’t see anything.”

“You make that sound bad.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Tell you what. When you’ve had your baby and you’re feeling better, come on out to the airport and I’ll give you a sight-seeing tour of the valley. Everything looks better from up there.”

“That’s so nice. In return I could let you change a diaper or two.”

“Ouch. Okay, point taken. You don’t have to fly in a helicopter if you don’t want to.”

“Gee, thanks.” She smiled, then shifted on the hard floor.

The pain in her back was getting worse by the minute.

All she wanted was to crawl into her own bed, but even that didn’t bring much relief these days.

It wasn’t just that she felt as if she’d swallowed a basketball; it was that someone kept pumping the sucker bigger and bigger.

“What about you?” Jim asked. “What do you do? Or should I say did you do?”

“Oh, I’m still working,” Heather told him.

“I do assembly in a factory in the West Valley.” She wrinkled her nose.

“I know it’s not glamorous, but the benefits are great and I’ve been getting bonus pay for working the swing shift.

No one likes that one because you lose your evenings.

I plan to work up to the very last day so I can have a longer paid maternity leave. ”

She thought about having to report to her job later that evening and nearly groaned out loud. The burst of energy that had sustained her for the past few days had faded. She shifted again as the pain moved lower, from her belly into her legs.

“I also have a home bookkeeping business,” Heather continued. “I’ve been going to college part-time. I’m just two classes shy of my bachelor’s degree in accounting, so I’m able to do books for small businesses.”