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West Wing to Maternity Wing!

By:Scarlet Wilson

West Wing to Maternity Wing!
Scarlet Wilson

 The President's Baby Doctor

Famous neonatologist Lincoln Adams is looking after the U.S. president's  newborn daughter when nurse Amy Carson arrives at the hospital, posing  as his very pregnant wife! Amy's had firsthand experience of Linc's  skillful hands and he's the only person she trusts to look after her  precious cargo, but trusting him with her fragile heart is another  matter. …

Amy pointed at the screen as the nurse, Lynn, resumed her checks. "I know him."

Lynn's eyes darted over to the television, taking in the hunk currently  filling the screen. Amy bristled. She could almost hear her thoughts.

Lynn gave a small smile. "Well, you're a lucky lady, then. I imagine  he's one of the best neonatologists in the world if he's looking after  the president's baby."

"He is. I tried to get hold of him yesterday, but he didn't answer the  text I sent him. I guess he was busy." The message I need your help had  been direct and to the point without revealing anything. Her voice was  quiet, thoughtful. Her hands rubbed her stomach. "How is it?" she asked  as Lynn unwound the blood pressure cuff. She knew the answer before Lynn  spoke, but her head was currently in another place. There was only one  person in the world she trusted right now to take care of her baby. "I  can't let anything happen to this baby," she whispered. "He's my only  chance."

Lynn wrapped her hand around Amy's. "I know that." She hesitated,  glancing toward the television. "Maybe it's time to ask a friend for  help?" Lynn's eyes fixed on the television screen. "If I knew my baby  was going to come early I'd want the finest neonatologist in the world  to be at the delivery." Her voice was firm and strong. "Wouldn't you?"

Her phone beeped and she reached into her pocket. It was a reply from Linc. Two words. Anything. Anytime.

Their eyes met. Amy bit her lip and took a deep breath, the shine of  unshed tears visible in her eyes. "Exactly how far away is Pelican  Cove?"


LINCOLN ADAMS stuck his fingers into the collar around his neck and  pulled-hard. The collar was at least an inch too small for him. It  didn't matter that the whole ensemble was Italian made from the finest  materials. The suit trousers were an inch too short and the waist was an  uncomfortably snug fit. He kept his arms firmly by his sides, his hands  clenched in his lap, because if he leaned forward onto the table in  front of him, the jacket would stretch across his back, restricting his  movements. It was bad enough having to borrow someone else's clothes,  but when they were a size too small …  The sooner he was out of here the  better.

The White House press secretary swept across the room in a flurry of  eye-catching blue silk with a tailored black jacket on top. Every pore  of her skin emanated professionalism and efficiency, and she knew how to  work a crowd. This was all her fault.

He gave a forced smile at David Fairgreaves, who sat down next to him.  The old man didn't look in the least fazed by the pandemonium  surrounding him. In fact, he looked as if he might actually be enjoying  it. Was he mad? Then again, for an international-award-winning doctor,  this would be all in a day's work.

Diane Green stood behind the podium next to him. Almost instantaneously  the cameras started snapping around them and the noise level increased  frenetically. She raised her hand and the press pack heeded. She had the  information they'd all been waiting for.

'Thank you for joining us here today at Pelican Cove for our happy  announcement. You will all be aware that President Taylor and his wife,  Jennifer, were expecting their first baby on seventeenth October.  However, today, on the twenty-third of August, Charles and Jennifer  Taylor are delighted to announce the arrival of … ' she paused for effect  ' … the First Daughter, Esther Rose Taylor, weighing four pounds ten  ounces.'         



The room around her erupted, questions being shouted from every angle. 'Isn't the baby too early?'

'What was the First Lady doing in Pelican Cove?'

'Where is her own obstetrician, Dr Blair?'

'Was the President here?'

'Where did the name come from?'

But Diane Green was the epitome of calm. Continuing with her carefully  prepared statement, she lifted her hand again until the room was silent.  'Esther Rose Taylor was born at thirty-two weeks gestation. The First  Lady had been ordered to rest in the last few weeks of her pregnancy and  had come to Pelican Cove to do exactly that. She was accompanied by her  obstetrician, Dr Blair, who unfortunately had a myocardial infarction  in the last few days. As a result of that the First Lady was looked  after by … ' Diane Green gestured towards the seats to her right ' … Dr  David Fairgreaves, one of the foremost leading obstetricians in America,  and Dr Lincoln Adams, one of our finest neonatologists.' She gave a  little nod towards the reporters. 'I am pleased to report that the  President was here for the arrival of his daughter and she is named  after Jennifer Taylor's beloved and much-missed grandmother. Any  questions regarding the health of the First Lady and the First  Daughter-' a genuine smile swept across Diane Green's lips, as if she  was still to get used to saying that '-can be answered by our two highly  qualified doctors here.'

Once again the room erupted and Lincoln Adams took a deep breath as this  time the barrage of questions was directed at him. Let me out of here!

Amy Carson sat on the cold, clinical hospital bed, usually occupied by a  patient, her hands fixed firmly on her swollen stomach. The plaster was  falling off the ceiling above her and the wall hadn't seen a coat of  paint in- How long? What did the patients who usually ended up in this  room think? The role reversal of staff member to potential patient  wasn't lost on her. Everything about this place was bland. Did she  really want to end up delivering her baby in a place like this?

She gulped. How had she ended up here? The door opened and the nurse  appeared again, wheeling the trolley that held the foetal monitor and  sphygmomanometer. Amy felt herself tense. She knew it was going to be  the same again-borderline.

She loved her colleagues here, but none of them had the specialist  skills and expertise that this baby would need. More than that-nowhere  in the surrounding area had facilities to deal with a premature baby.  Everything about this made her uncomfortable. If only Lincoln would  answer his phone …

Movement on the television in the corner of the room caught her eye. She leaned forward. 'Can you turn that up, please, Lynn?'

Her colleague nodded and automatically twisted the knob on the  antiquated television set. 'Delighted to announce the arrival of … '

Amy listened to the announcement. Another baby born too early. But  probably the most famous baby in the world. A baby that would have the  most prestigious, experienced medical care that money could buy.

No! Surely not? Amy's chin dropped to her chest. Lincoln Adams. Her  Lincoln Adams was shifting uncomfortably on the screen in front of her.  He tugged at his shirt and answered question after question about the  baby's condition. His voice was rich, smooth. If she couldn't see his  image on the television in front of her, she'd imagine he was the  calmest man in the world. But he wasn't. And she could tell he hated  every moment of this.

Delivering the President's baby. Wow. So that's where he'd been.

Her heart constricted in her chest. Six years and he still had the same  effect on her-even in her current state. She watched as he took a  question from a blonde journalist, dazzling her with his twinkling blue  eyes and easy smile. He was still a flirt. It was so ingrained in him  that he didn't even realise he was doing it. One smile from Linc and the  journalist, covering the biggest story of her life, was a babbling  mess.

She pointed at the screen as the nurse, Lynn, resumed her checks. 'I know him.'

Lynn's eyes darted over to the screen, taking in the hunk currently  filling the screen. Amy bristled. She could almost hear her thoughts.

Lynn gave a small smile. 'Well, you're a lucky lady, then. I imagine  he's one of the best neonatologists in the world if he's looking after  the President's baby.'

'He is. I tried to get hold of him yesterday but he didn't answer the  text I sent him. I guess he was busy.' The message "I need your help"  had been direct and to the point without revealing anything. Her voice  was quiet, thoughtful. Her hands rubbing up and down her stomach. 'How  is it?' she asked as Lynn unwound the blood-pressure cuff. She knew the  answer before Lynn spoke but her head was currently in another place.  There was only one person in the world she trusted right now to take  care of her baby.         



Lynn frowned. 'Actually, it's a little higher. I'm sorry, Amy, but as a  fellow professional I'm not going to beat around the bush. With your  other symptoms, it's definitely looking like borderline pre-eclampsia.  The good thing is we've caught it early. It's time to see your  obstetrician. And from one colleague to another, I definitely think it's  time to stop work.'