Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(22)

“I don’t have a daughter.” She flattened her hand against her breast. “I’m not even married.” Not that being married was a prerequisite for having a child. Oh dear, she couldn’t seem to speak coherently around this guy.

“The girls who were with you the other day when you dropped off the preemie hats.”

“Casey and Ava?”

“One of them is pregnant.”

Libby automatically shook her head. “You’re wrong.” He had to be. “They’re just thirteen.”

His face tightened and he grew more insistent. “I strongly suspect the dark-haired one is pregnant.”

That bit of information wasn’t the least bit helpful. “They both have dark hair.”

“The one who wore jeans, then.”

“They both had on jeans.”

He shook his head. “Okay, the one on the right.”

Libby blinked and searched her memory, trying to remember where they’d stood in the elevator. “Your right or mine?”

“Yours. No, mine.”

An announcement came over the public address system asking for Dr. Stone to return immediately to the neonatal unit.

Phillip stood. “I’ve got to go. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful. I felt I should mention it because that girl needs to see a physician. She needs proper health care for her and her baby. I wish I could be more specific about which girl it was. If you aren’t the mother”—he hesitated and then shook his head as though he was frustrated and regretful—“I apologize that … I assumed. Well, never mind, I’m sure you’ll do what you can.”

Having said that, he hurried out of the cafeteria.

Chapter 8

He was there. Robin Hamlin bit into her lower lip and did her best to quell her stampeding heart. Judge Roy Bollinger had attended the annual fund-raising dinner held by the local Legal Aid Society. Naturally she’d hoped to see him, but she’d had no way of knowing if he would participate or not.

Robin had admired Roy years ago when they worked together on an election campaign. Recently she’d learned that his wife had died two years ago. To the best of her knowledge he wasn’t dating. She didn’t dare ask for fear one of her colleagues might question her interest. Up until now, all she’d done was admire him from afar. Roy was decent and honest, loyal and kind. They shared many of the same political views as well.

Oh, she definitely had a crush. But Robin intended to keep it cool. Nonchalant. A blatant approach wasn’t her style. She would need to play her hand carefully, keeping her cards close to her chest. Normally she would have mailed in a generous check to the Legal Aid Society and avoided the dinner. Her sole reason for showing up was the off chance, the hope, that Judge Bollinger would be there.

The doors to the dining room hadn’t opened. He stood in line at the bar at the cocktail reception. She was three people behind him. The two people who stood between her and Roy were a married couple she didn’t recognize, and they were chatting away animatedly. Just then Roy turned and looked past her. Perhaps he was searching for someone. He might have a date for the night. The only way to tell was if he purchased one drink or two. Robin held her breath and waited.

One drink.

He turned away, caught sight of her, and smiled.

Robin smiled back and wondered how it was that her heart could pound this hard and fast and not explode. Her hands trembled as she looked down at the program she’d been handed when she’d walked into the reception. The words blurred as she struggled to hide her reaction.

“Good evening, Counselor,” Roy said as he paused next to her. He held a glass of red wine. Pinot noir, if she guessed right. Robin enjoyed wine as well and was particularly fond of the Willamette Valley pinot noirs out of Oregon.

“Judge Bollinger,” she said, hoping to sound causal. He wasn’t a striking man. They were close to the same height, about five-eight. His hair was completely gray and his hairline was receding. He carried himself well, and although he was ten years her senior he remained vibrant and healthy. Robin was strongly drawn to him.

She’d never been in his court. He didn’t try criminal cases, although their courtrooms were in the same area of the King County Courthouse. They sometimes saw each other between sessions.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you at one of these functions before,” Roy said, pausing to chat.

“I … I don’t often attend, although I support the cause.” Robin had never been much of a social butterfly. Like her friend Libby, she’d been married to her job for so long that she didn’t have much of a life outside the courthouse. Family and friends had warned her that the criminal cases she tried had affected her personality. How could they not? Dealing with the criminal element was bound to impact her. She felt powerless to change her way of thinking and yet she needed an outlet … some way or someone to center her. Someone to take her mind off the ugliness she confronted every day in court. Someone who would help her remember there was goodness and beauty and love in this world. She remembered laughing with Judge Bollinger and how lighthearted she’d felt after spending time with him.

“It’s good to see you.”

“You too.” She thought about mentioning his wife, telling him how sorry she was to hear of Mrs. Bollinger’s passing. Thankfully she stopped herself. It had happened two years ago, and it was long past the time for condolences.