Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(42)

Every nurse on staff was in full gear. The first set, a boy and a girl, arrived in the nursery and the flurry of activity continued as the next set arrived less than an hour later. This time it was two boys, identical twins. All too soon Libby had four screaming and angry newborns demanding her attention.

“Make that three multiple births,” Sharon said, stopping only long enough to take a short break. “This has never happened in all the years I’ve worked at the hospital. Three sets of twins born the same day.”

Libby loved it. The babies filled the nursery and she was just as busy, showing off the newborns to proud grandparents and family members. One grandmother was so excited she started to weep, and when her husband hugged her, Libby saw tears in his eyes, too. This was pure undiluted joy … happiness that could be expressed only through tears.

Libby found out from Sharon that the last set of twins had been born six weeks premature and there were multiple complications. Phillip was called in and the three-pound girls were sent to NICU, the neonatal intensive-care unit.

Once the flurry of activity finally slowed down, Sharon stepped into the nursery and nearly collapsed at her desk. She looked completely exhausted. “Oh, my, I can’t remember a morning like this in years.”

Libby laughed. “There were some pretty excited family members here as well.” She looked up and happened to catch a glimpse of the wall clock. Twelve fifty-five. What? That time couldn’t be right. It just couldn’t.

“Tell me that clock is fast,” Libby begged as she hurriedly untied the back of her hospital gown. Her heart was already in a panic. If she was late for this interview she’d never forgive herself. Robin wasn’t likely to forgive her either.

Sharon glanced at her watch. “No, it’s right.”

“My interview is today at one,” Libby cried. She raced out of the nursery and was halfway to the elevator before she realized she’d forgotten her purse. Her head and her heart were in total chaos as she tore back down the hallway and grabbed it. Unwilling to wait for the elevator, she took the stairs, racing down them as fast as her legs would carry her, bouncing from one step to the next with such speed that it jarred her teeth.

Once outside she managed to flag down a cab, only to get caught in a funeral procession that ate up an additional five minutes. It seemed everything that could go wrong had or would. While in the taxi, Libby brushed her hair and freshened up her makeup. She’d intended to change clothes but it was too late for that now. Her hand shook so badly that it was a wonder the lipstick didn’t get smeared across her entire face.

Once at the King County Courthouse, she paid the driver and told him to keep the change. Libby was breathless by the time she raced up the multiple sets of stairs that led to the inside of the building.

Getting through security seemed to take a lifetime and then she was forced to wait for the elevator. She was late, so late. Libby couldn’t believe this was happening. Robin was going to be furious, but no angrier than Libby was with herself. Babies. She’d gotten so caught up with the newborns that she’d simply lost track of the time.

Once she was on the right floor, Libby raced down the corridor and paused only long enough to take in a deep, calming breath before she opened the door. Her only hope, her one chance, was if no one noticed how late she was.

“Hello,” she said, giving the woman at the desk her biggest, most charming smile. “I’m Elizabeth Morgan. I’m here for my interview.”

The receptionist looked down at the clipboard in front of her. “Your appointment was at one. I’m afraid you’ll need to wait, as another applicant is with Ms. Rabe at the moment.”

Libby groaned inwardly and glanced at the wall clock. She was fifteen minutes late. “I apologize for being late.”

“Take a seat, Ms. Morgan, and I’ll call you when Ms. Rabe is free.” The receptionist disappeared.

Despite the receptionist’s instructions, Libby remained standing at the desk, too nervous to sit down. She turned expectantly when the other woman returned a few minutes later.

“Ms. Rabe will see you now.” She led Libby down a hallway and into an interview room.

The deputy district attorney stood with her back to Libby when she entered the room.

“Thank you so much for seeing me,” she said, doing her best to sound calm and professional, although her heart rate felt like it was racing at double time.

“You’re not exactly starting off on the right foot, are you?”

“No, and I apologize. The fault is entirely mine.” Libby was willing to accept responsibility; she had no one to blame but herself. She couldn’t even attribute the multiple births to a full moon. One thing was crystal clear: Ms. Rabe didn’t want to hear excuses.

Unfortunately, the interview didn’t go well. Libby wasn’t able to regain the ground she’d lost by showing up late. She did her best to impress the deputy DA but it was clear that she’d blown it from the moment she walked into the room. She had as much chance of getting this job as a donkey did of winning the Kentucky Derby.

With her head filled with self-recrimination, Libby left the building. Her cell phone rang a few minutes later. When Libby glanced at caller ID she groaned.

Robin Hamlin.

“Hello.” She was tempted not to answer, but she might as well get this over with now and be done with it.