Chapter 3

Casey

My heart pounded out of my chest as I tried my best to calm it down. We saw dozens of patients each day, so why was I so infatuated with this one in particular? Maybe it was because he was a sperm donor instead of one of the expectant fathers who made up a large share of our client base. Maybe I’d just gone crazy working at this damn clinic and decided here was my best option to find a male suitor. Or maybe he was just as perfect as he seemed and I was fortunate enough to see him once a month.

I’d memorized the part of his medical file I could access after his third or fourth visit. Alexander Preston. DOB 9/27/87. Male. Blue eyes. 6’1”. Oh, how I wanted to add something like “chiseled arms” or “strong hands”, just for fun.

One of the annoying pregnant ladies came up to the desk to schedule her next appointment, which I begrudgingly did with a fake smile plastered across my face. It wasn’t that I hated my job. It was just tough at times to see women like these. They were the ones who came in and spent thousands of dollars to have a child who would probably end up being raised by a nanny anyway.

As soon as the woman walked out the door, I breathed a sigh of relief. The last patient of the day—well, at least, my day— was with the doctor. Alexander and one other sperm donor were in the back doing their business. It was almost time to go home, heat up a microwave dinner, and sit on the couch in front of some trashy TV for the rest of the night. Oh, what a life.

The door connecting the waiting room to the back hallway opened as Alexander ran his hands through his hair. He looked pleased with himself. Hell, I would be too if I knew I was giving someone’s future child those killer genes. I offered up an awkward grin and a “Have a nice day.” I felt so lame compared to Alexander. Every move he made seemed so calculated and suave, and I was just so ordinary. At least I had his occasional visits to look forward to, and I could fantasize about him all I wanted in the meantime.

Expecting him to walk toward the door like usual, I was surprised when Alexander turned and made his way to the front desk. Sure, he had made that remark about not needing any masturbation material, but I figured he was just being funny. After all, it was sort of an awkward situation for both of us. I’d heard my fair share of inappropriate jokes from sperm donors in my time at the clinic.

“Miss Casey,” Alexander said in that sexy voice of his. The fact that he even knew my name sent me into an internal fit of giddiness. I’d never heard my name sound more wonderful coming from someone else’s mouth.

“Mister Preston,” I said. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to be equally as funny or simply trying to remain professional. “What can I help you with?”

His response caught me off guard. “What’s your favorite sports team?”

“The Yankees,” I said, deciding not to question why he was asking.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” I said. I knew people weren’t used to hearing that in this neck of the woods. “My mom was from New York.”

“Excellent,” he said. “I’m a big Yanks fan, too.” After a quick pause, he asked, “Would you rather eat a cheeseburger or a salad?”

“Cheeseburger,” I said matter-of-factly.

He laughed. “Fair enough.” I hoped with everything in my heart that he was laughing at my reaction to the question and not at my response. Even though my friends constantly told me I was wrong, I considered myself a bit pudgier than the average person. It was something I was extremely self-conscious about.

Still unsure of what kind of game we were playing, I caved. “What’s your favorite type of food?”

“Italian,” he said.

“Damn, I’m more of a Chinese food gal,” I laughed.

“Chinese is good, too.” His goofy smile had me grinning like a fool. “You married?”

I answered in the form of a chuckle and a resounding, “Nope.”

“Me either,” he said.

“If a hottie like you can’t find someone, there’s not too much hope for the rest of us.” I couldn’t believe I’d just blurted that out. It didn’t seem to faze Alexander. He didn’t miss a beat. The more we talked, the more I was absolutely smitten with him, and, the more we talked, the more I wanted to keep talking. I hoped I wasn’t misreading him. He definitely seemed to be flirting, but maybe I was naïve and he was just a friendly person. It couldn’t be small talk, I told myself. He would’ve been long gone by now. We continued blabbing about all sorts of random current events—wow, was he intelligent—until finally Alexander halted the conversation.

“Can I join you?” he asked, gesturing to my desk. I nodded. He walked back through the door and through the nurse’s entrance into the administrative area. Before I knew it, he was sitting in a rolling chair just inches away from me.

I felt lame, like the nerdy girl who was talking to the homecoming king. What did he see in me? Why was he even talking to me? I wondered why this visit, out of all the trips he’d made to the clinic, was the one in which he decided to talk to me.

“So why do you donate your sperm?” I asked.

“You don’t hold back,” Alexander said, making me blush.

Yet again, he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

“To be honest, I’m not getting any younger. I don’t have any prospects on the horizon, so I figured I’d do my share of service by giving my good genes to the kind people of Atlanta who need them more than I do.”

There was an unusual combination of pride, humor, and seriousness in his voice. I had to admire his honesty. I had figured it was something like that, some sort of need to pass on his genes in case he never had kids. I’d seen his car, and it didn’t seem like he was hurting for money like most of the men who came in here.

“How nice of you.”

“How about you? How’d you end up working here?”

That was a loaded question, one I’d been asked before but never bothered to come up with a suitable answer to. There was no good way to say,

“I never knew my dad. My mom died. I couldn’t afford to finish college. I needed a job. And, the doctors here were the only people willing to hire me without a degree.”

Instead, I said the first thing that came to my mind.

“I like babies.”

“Oh,” Alexander said, curiosity filling his eyes. “So, you have kids of your own?”

“I wish,” I blurted.

I immediately wished I hadn’t said that. Nothing freaked a guy out more than a girl saying she wanted kids. I couldn’t remember the last time I was this tongue-tied around a guy. Oh well… he probably wasn’t interested in me anyway. Still, I did the best I could to backtrack.

“I just mean that all my friends are starting to have kids, and I feel left out sometimes, like everyone’s moving on and I’m just stuck.” I couldn’t figure out why I was revealing my innermost thoughts and feelings to this virtual stranger, but, in some weird way, I didn’t really mind. It felt good to say these things out loud. After all, this wasn’t the type of thing I wanted to share with those same friends I was talking about.

“I get it,” Alexander said. “I feel the same way sometimes when I see my best friend with his kids. But then I grab beers with my buddies who complain nonstop about their kids, and I don’t feel so bad. They talk about dirty diapers, and nap times, and teething, and it all just sounds so boring.”

I could tell he was trying to make me feel better, so I faked a laugh. “I suppose that’s good.”

Alexander cleared his throat. “You ever think about picking one of the sperm donors that comes in here to, you know, donate to you?” I wasn’t sure whether he was being serious or not, so I tried my best to play it cool.

“Yeah right,” I laughed.

Here I was, talking to the only guy I had ever dreamed about in that capacity. Now he was asking exactly what I was thinking. This felt like one crazy dream. Since I was fairly certain someone was going to pinch me and wake me up any minute, I didn’t see any problem with being honest.

“Ok, so maybe I have thought about it.”

“But there’s something stopping you,” Alexander said.

“I could never afford it,” I said. “There is someone I have in mind, though. You know, in case I never get married and also win the lottery.”

With a small grin, Alexander pushed forward his dimples and stared right into my eyes, his dark eyes clear as the ocean.

“Who might that be?”

I gulped, wondering if he already knew what I was going to say.

“You.”