Just You

Chapter One

"This is Stephanie calling from the New Haven Cryobank. It's important I reach Alexander Neale. If I've reached the right Mr. Neale I'd appreciate it if he called me back. . .""

The perky New England accent resonating in Xander's ear wasn't what got his attention. It was the word 'Cryobank.' There would be no reason a Cryobank wanted him, certainly not at the ripe old age of thirty-eight.

While the woman rattled off a number, Xander jotted it absentmindedly on the blueprint he'd been looking over. It was just another nuisance call as far as he was concerned. His attention returned to the drafting board. He circled a couple of areas that needed correction and allowed his mind to roam.

What would the New Haven Cryobank want with him after all this time?

A lifetime ago he'd been a regular at the sperm bank. There would be no reason for them to be contacting him now. He wasn't exactly in his prime although late thirties could hardly be considered ancient.

Using a finger to shove his glasses securely on his nose bridge, Xander focused on the custom home his firm had contracted to design but he'd relegated to a less experienced architect. She was an intern, fresh out of university and green as they came. He would need to make several changes so that the client would be satisfied with the design. But he'd been new once and had it not been for the help of a senior architect he would have been fired from his first job. He'd vowed to give back.

Sperm and fertility were not topics to be discussed or even entertained ever. He'd been there, done that, and had nothing to show for it except a hollow place in his heart.

With empty eyes Xander looked around the office that his wife, Karen had taken such pride in decorating, and that at one time he'd loved. Material things no longer mattered when you no longer had someone to share them with.

Even the good memories hurt. Karen had enjoyed scouring through consignment shops until she found the perfect oak desk and complementary chair. She'd made the navy and yellow valance that framed the bow windows. Together they'd painted the walls chocolate and sand, splattering paint all over each other in the process. They'd been lovers, partners and friends. When he'd lost her he'd lost his soul.

He should have just let the answering machine pick up. There was no one he'd wanted to speak with that badly. Anyone that mattered had his cell number, and an operator was paid handsomely to field business calls. He'd given her explicit instructions; no one was to be put through to him unless he gave the nod. So how had this Stephanie made it through the screening process?

..........................more to come.....................