A Surprised Baby For Doctor Hottie

All I could think about was slipping on a pair of comfy sneakers. I had my white Chuck Taylor low-tops in mind, perfectly broken in after years of use, scuffed just enough to look a little worn-in. But I was more concerned with my comfort.

Because anything had to be better than zipping around in heels at a million miles per hour. But, as an event planner, I had to not only be the best, but also look the best.

"OK," I said as I walked through the hallway of the Manila Hotel's Event Hall, a massive space decked out for the charity event. "Let's get a status update."

"Yes, ma'am," Kendra, my bubbly twenty-something assistant, said, clipboard in hand and a cheeky smile on her face. "The kitchen is set up and ready to go, and they'll be whipping out canapes like a blackjack dealer on a hot streak with a single word from you."

"Perfect," my purposeful, steady strides echoed down the hall, Kendra's quick steps clicking click-click-click as she struggled to keep up. "How about the seating – we've got that covered."

"We have seating for 200 people in there, and plenty more in the cocktail area – more than enough for everyone who has RSVP'd."

I took a breather "Are you sure you're serious? "

Kendra, petite and adorable, with a short, pixie-style haircut framing her elf-like features, gave me that wide-eyed look she always gave me when she knew she was about to get chewed out. "Um, yeah," she said. "Guests always bring plus-ones and twos to charity events, so I wanted to make sure there was enough room for everyone."

Kendra was a fantastic assistant – she'd have to be after working alongside me for the five years I'd been running this business. She could, however, be overly accommodating, and she was always a little naive about how to pull off the season's biggest event.

"You heard what I said: we want this party to be unique, which means no one, and I mean no one, who isn't on the list will be admitted. I don't care if Manila's mayor shows up – she's not on the list, so she won't get a seat."

"But don't you think we'd like to have more people here?" "More people equals more money, after all."

"More people means more chaos, more fighting for seats, more mouths eating and drinking. It's not worth the hassle." "Not only that, but we want people to feel like they really missed out on something by not getting in, and next year when we throw the same event, people will be losing their minds to get in. Trust me, when it comes to these high-society types, FOMO is strong."

"FOMO? "

"Fear of missing out," I slyly explained. I kept moving as I turned toward the doors. "Besides, the auction will be livestreamed." Anyone interested in bidding can do so from the comfort of their colossal mansion. I ran the numbers, and we're not losing a penny by keeping this event exclusive as eff."

Kendra smiled as we walked, recognizing the wisdom in my words. I came to a halt once more, about a dozen feet from the side doors to the main events space.

"Detour," I declared. "Let's take a look at the kitchen."

"Nice call."

I took a slight detour, opening a nondescript door and passing through it. The kitchen, on the other hand, was a massive industrial-sized affair, with stainless-steel surfaces and appliances gleaming under the harsh overhead lights. A few dozen kitchen workers whizzed around, calling out orders as they prepared the food for the evening. It was controlled chaos through and through, exactly the kind of chaos I liked.

The staff cleared out of the way as I moved through, knowing I was the woman in charge. Then I saw the man I'd been looking for.

"Hello, Chef Joseph!"

I yelled above the din of dishes being prepared.

From behind one of the prep stations, a tall man with a fleshy face and a rotund belly that stretched out the front of his chef's outfit listed his head.

"What's the latest on the appetizers?"

"He gave me a happy smile and motioned for me to join him. I took a step around the station and was handed a round white plate with a series of intricately arranged finger foods. "I've heard they're ready for you to give it a shot."

I took one of the appetizers from the plate and shoved it into my mouth, groaning as the flavors exploded in my mouth.

He described it as "phyllo roll pastry with figs and ricotta cheese."

"Good," I mumbled, my mouth full. "It's really, really good. What else is there? "

"This is a classic bruschetta made with local cheese and tomatoes."

I tried it, quickly chewing and swallowing. "Classic and delectable." "Just one more."

"This is my take on a kebab." Pita bread topped with sirloin and black pepper aioli."

One more bite, a series of quick chews, and a hard swallow. "It's also good. "However, I'm noticing a bit of a pattern here."

"And what exactly is it?"

His brow furrowed as he inquired.

"Everything is heavy on bread."

"Believe me, Joseph, these upper-crust types have more allergies and food preferences than stocks in their portfolios," he said, looking down at the tray, then at me. And half of them are on some kind of diet. What's the name of the show you're watching, Kendra? "

"Caveman," she said, her face bright with a smile. "You don't get it if it can't be eaten by a caveman."

I motioned to her with a "see what I mean?" with my gaze fixed on Joseph.

" I have a puzzled look on my face.

"I could do some meatballs...no bread, of course," he said thoughtfully.

"Put something with kimchi on there as well."

"I've got just the thing in mind," he said with a smile and a nod.

Before he could take a step back, I had a thought: "Oh, and can you do a re-up on this app plate?" I've got a VIP out there who's probably starving by now."

"It's yours."

He gestured to the plate after snapping his fingers at one of the sous-chefs. The food was replaced a few moments later. I thanked Joseph as I took the plate from the counter with ease.

"I have to admit," Kendra said as we approached the front door. "This auction thing appears to be a little strange."

"Are you serious?

" I asked, pretending to be taken aback.

"They're a lot of fun – you march out a parade of studs and people go crazy." Nothing beats seeing seventy-something society ladies drooling over beefcakes in tuxes. And they make so much money it's insane."

We walked up to the kitchen doors, and I marched through, the events hall in front of me. And what a space it turned out to be. I'd worked dozens of events there over the years, but the sight never failed to bowl me over. It was huge, done up in Art Deco style, with tall, vaulted ceilings that stretched up into forever, a gorgeous mural of the founding of Manila Hotel in the center, crystal chandeliers hanging overhead. The floor was stunning, glossy parquet, and the grand stage up front elevated and adorned with columns fit for royalty. The tall, arched windows looked out onto the mountains in the distance, the peaks jutting up into the star-strewn sky

A navy-blue banner hung above the stage, reading "Bermas Medical Autism Research Foundation" – the name of the charity organizing the event. I loved being able to organize charity events, and the fact that this one was the brainchild of my best friend and her wonderful husband was the icing on the cake.

"This place is really cool," Kendra said. "I'd like to actually attend a party here rather than just plan them."

"Then begin saving," I joked. "You're aware of the cost per plate for tonight's gala."

With my appetizers in hand, I found the woman I was looking for.

"OK," I said with a small smile on my face. "I need to speak with the lady in charge quickly." Make a quick sweep of the serving staff to ensure they are presentable. And if anyone is staring at their phone instead of getting ready, feel free to chew them out."

She gave another amusing salute. "You got it, boss," Kendra said as she walked away, and I turned to face the lady in charge.

Alma Guevarra sat at one of the white linen-covered tables, her sneakers propped up on the surface, the linen pushed up a bit so her feet weren't on it, looking so pregnant that a sudden surprise might make her pop. When she saw me, specifically the plate of food in my hand, a look of relief washed over her pretty face.

"Oh hell yes," she exclaimed as she extended her hands. "Gimme, gimme, gimme."

I chuckled as I handed over the plate of appetizers. She placed it on her round belly and quickly popped a triplet of them into her mouth.

"Chef Joseph would be furious that you're not savoring those," I remarked as I sat down next to her.

"Well, Chef Joseph isn't eight months pregnant and constantly in a state of freakishly ravenous hunger."

I laughed at the thought of the head chef having a large pregnancy belly. "Nice shoes," I said as I nodded at her sneakers.

"What are these old things?"

" she inquired, lifting her hands slightly off the table. "Don't worry, they're not what I'm going to wear tonight."

"I won't judge if you want to wear 'em." "Comfortable shoes are all I've been thinking about since I put these on." I reached down and tapped my ink-black, glossy heels. "They may look nice, but my feet feel like they're going to burst out of them."

Alma laughed as she ate a piece of bruschetta. "Wait until you're pregnant like me," she advised. "You know how they say your feet will swell? It's not a joke – every pair of shoes feels like the ones you had to have even if they're not your size. I'm half-considering hiring Joven to carry me around for the night."

"Me next," I declared. "My legs are destroying me."

Then, as if on cue, the man himself entered through the outside door. Dr. Joven Bermas looked as dashing as ever, dressed in a fitted tux with a coal-black overcoat on top. He slid the coat off with ease, draping it over his big arm as he locked those striking blue eyes on his wife.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, leaning in and kissing her on the lips. Then he formed a thoughtful expression on his face. "Hmm...you've never tasted anything so good. It's almost like kebab."

"You can thank Chef Joseph for that," I pointed out. "He's keeping Alma well fed."

"And that's exactly how I like her," he added with a charming smirk. "Trust me when I say you don't want to see her when she's hungry."

She laughed and swatted Joven on the leg. "Hey, you tell me how you like it when you've got a tiny human inside you screaming for food all day."

Joven laughed, and I couldn't help but stare at the two of them, who were clearly in love and the epitome of perfect coupledom. Even though I was content with my life, a part of me wondered if I'd ever have anything like what they had. My dating life was in such disarray that if it were a person, even a doctor as skilled as Joven would have difficulty resurrecting it.

"The place looks amazing," Joven said as he stood up and looked around the event hall. "I believe we're in for a wild night."

"To be fair, working with a venue as beautiful as this does a lot of the heavy lifting."

"There's no selling yourself short in my company," he warned. "You got the job because you're the best in town."

I smiled. "Thank you for the compliment."

I looked at Alma, noting the strange expression on her face, as if she had something she wanted to say but wasn't sure how it would go over.

"Babe," she said as she placed her plate on the table. "Regarding tonight..."

Joven's eyes widened as he recalled something. "Gia, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

"What is it?"

"

"Is it too late to add someone to the lineup for the auction?"

I grimaced, a little jokingly, a little honestly. "Well, you know how I feel about last-minute changes..."

"And I appreciate it," he added. "I'd only recommend it if I thought he'd be a good fit."

"Hmm," I pondered, "more bachelors to auction off means more money for charity, and if he gets the Joven Bermas stamp of approval, I'm willing to at least give him a shot."

"Perfect," Joven said, clasping his large hands together. "He's backstage right now; mind accompanying me to meet him?"

"Not at all," I said.

Joven quickly offered his arm to help Alma up after she plopped her feet on the ground and heaved herself out of her seat. "You guys do that, and I'm going to see if Chef Joseph can top it off." Alma waddled toward the kitchen, plate in hand.

"By the way, you look lovely," Joven said as we walked backstage.

"Thank you, Dr. Bermas," I said with a smile. "But I hope this isn't your way of flattering me, so I let your friend participate." "I like to think I'm immune to compliments."

He laughed. "No, not at all – I only said it because you do." And believe me, once you see him, you'll realize he doesn't need to be'sold.' He's a good-looking guy with a lot of personality. And, like me, he's a doctor."

"It almost sounds like you're getting ready to bid on him."

He burst out laughing. "Perhaps I will. Just don't tell Alma about it."

We made our way through the backstage area together. Kendra was whipping the serving staff into shape as they prepared for the evening.

"Over there," he said. "He's the one."

A tall man in a perfectly tailored tuxedo stood ahead of me. Even though he was facing the opposite direction, I could tell he had a fantastic body. His shoulders were broad, his arms were massive, and his dark hair was slicked back. He had a phone to his ear, and his voice was so loud it almost rumbled the floor beneath my feet. On top of that, something about him felt...familiar.

"Hello, Joey!" " Joven called out, attracting the attention of his friend.

My heart leapt into my throat just hearing the name. No way, no how. Joey, that is not the case.

Then he turned, and there he was.

When he saw me, he got that cocky-as-fuck smile I'd seen so many times, as if it was all a big game to him – a big game he knew how to win. He hung up the phone, slipping it into his jacket pocket, and walked over to me.

He spoke when he was close, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Hello there, lovely."