By Design 2

By J Boykin Baker

Anne and Brad’s love for one another continues to blossom in By Design II. The young Southern designer inspires a depth of new emotions in the handsome doctor as he finds her love for everyone in her path a magnetic force he cannot resist. But . . . can he overcome his frustrations with her independent ways? Anne on the other hand, finds Brad’s loving attentions and boyish Southern charm irresistible as she takes on the challenge of his somewhat spoiled nature. One has to ask . . . will their life together withstand professional demands, daily challenges and the possibility of trust issues as they see their worlds so differently?

By Design II: Matters of the Heart will resonate soundly with the majority of readers who find it challenging to balance life in the turmoil of our modern culture. But take heart, it may just be possible!

• Language: English
• Publisher: J Boykin Baker
• Release date: Jun 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463802083

J Boykin Baker

J Boykin Baker grew up in the small town of Wilson, North Carolina. She knew from the age of seven, after seeing the old movie "Pillow Talk," that the only career for her was interior design. After college, marriage, and babies, her dream of being an interior designer came true with the start of her own design firm in Atlanta, Georgia. As timing would have it, she just happened to be in the right place - at the right time - with the right look and ended up designing hospitals, corporate offices, and high-end residential projects across the nation. During her years as President of Baker Interiors, Inc. she had the privilege of working with countless women. Due to a caring nature, she was led to mentor young women through familiar struggles of a reoccurring nature. Eventually, she carried her love for women and children even further when she founded a non-profit, Widow's Mite Experience, Inc, to provide emergency water relief for families in the United States and around the world. With the help of hundreds of women volunteers, this ministry is now active in 32 countries. Her writing career began with a series of children's books illustrating the unusual travels of a doll named Mary Margaret. She has written two pilots about antics of Southern women and how to design with the mystique of Southern comfort, and has had various interiors and commentaries published in slick-cover magazines from coast to coast. Under duress, she has even written two professional manuals. She has now published the first novel of a trilogy that she hopes will have cross-over appeal to women of all ages who are experiencing, or remembering, the intensity of a new love. With humor, tears, and professional insight, she enjoys sharing her wide-ranging experiences on national television, radio interviews, and speaking internationally. She was recently named one of North Carolina's Women of Achievement by the GFWC-NC. In a nutshell, this author continues to thoroughly enjoy a full and adventurous life!

Book preview

Introduction

After an instant infatuation, a complicated relationship and the most romantic proposal imaginable, Anne and Brad were married as friends and family enjoyed an intimate ceremony and dazzling reception. The newlyweds spent their first night together as husband and wife in Atlanta, after which they left for a honeymoon in the City of Lights—Paris. After three glorious weeks abroad, the couple has just returned to Anne’s small Atlanta apartment. As a new day dawns, the two reluctantly prepare to rejoin their busy lives. What they neglected to prepare for was the clutter and complications of a life together.

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A thought from the author…

I truly feel you will enjoy By Design II: Matters of the Heart so much more if you have gotten to know Anne and Brad’s tragic youth, their opposite and sometimes difficult personalities and their many struggles as they fight the commitment involved in a passionate new love. The first book of this trilogy, By Design: A Love Story with a Twist takes you on this journey. May you enjoy these two books as much as I enjoyed writing them for your reading pleasure.

Love to all,

J Boykin Baker

Chapter One

Dreams of Paris

Brad fiddled with his keys as he walked to the car. Each measured step was taking him further away from Anne. He couldn’t believe how difficult it was to leave the comfort of just the two of them. He and Anne had been married for a total of three weeks and two days, which had been the best days of his life. He hesitated as he opened his car door. Laying his arm on top of the window frame, he looked back at the apartment; all he really wanted to do was turn around and go back to her, back to the intimacy of their bed.

Earlier that morning, after hearing the unwelcome beep from his pager, he had showered, then dressed in his standard green scrubs. Walking over to the bed, he’d stood there for the longest time as he watched her sleeping. She looked so peaceful, so perfect, as her bare back and shoulder inspired that familiar yearning for more. Just then his pager beeped again. She stirred as her dark hair fell ever so slowly against the paleness of the off-white pillowcase. She smiled slightly, but not at him; she had slipped away into her own world and was lost in her dreams. Then she sighed as if remembering something tender. She moved over and stretched. Brad could see that she was trying to get closer to him, closer to the warmth of where his body had been such a short time before. He had leaned down to gently kiss her cheek in the hope of adding a sense of his love to whatever was happening in that vivid imagination of hers.

Taking a deep breath, he had turned and walked into the kitchen. Stalling, he’d taken one last sip of coffee, then placed his cup on the counter. Picking up his keys from the silver tray that lay on the chest by the door, he took a last longing glance in the direction of their bedroom. He opened the front door and, before walking away, he locked the door behind him. Navigating the steps, he made his way along the brick pavers to his car.

After those few moments of just standing there reliving the dread of his departure, Brad removed his arm from the metal rim surrounding the window, slid into his car and closed the door. Allowing the car to idle, he gathered all of the willpower he could muster to back out of the driveway and begin his drive to Labor and Delivery. There was a new life coming into this world and the two beeps had summoned him to the hospital.

Driving the familiar route to Doctors’ Hospital, Brad was in a somewhat dreamlike state as he thought back over their time in Paris. Their days had been full. There were so many sights to see; foods to taste. But early mornings, late afternoons, and their love-filled nights were all his. He took a deep breath as he remembered.

Approaching the gate to the doctors’ entrance, he yawned and began to realize just how tired he was. The stillness of the hour certainly hadn’t helped. The familiar neighborhoods he’d just driven through felt deserted and bleak on this frigid January morning. He had seen few lights on in the houses he passed. In fact, as he glanced at several, there wasn’t even a glow. It was as if everyone else in the city was still in a nice warm bed, perhaps cuddled up with the one they loved. He laughed as he rolled his eyes. Had he actually just thought the word cuddled? That word had certainly never been part of his vocabulary until Anne, but then, she had changed just about everything.

Brad yawned again; the stark reality of reentering his normal life became all too real. During the brief time of their honeymoon, he guessed he had forgotten about the insane schedule of the life of an OB/GYN, and how the arrival of a baby during unscheduled hours could ensure sleepless nights. He laughed and shook his head. Maybe it was Anne who was causing this new sleep deprivation. Every time they kissed, each time they touched, even the slightest brush of their hands brought about less sleep, regardless of the hour. He leaned back against the leather seat as memories stirred again. The love in her eyes, the sweetness of each response, the feel—. Just then he was jolted back to the present. A loud voice was calling his name.

Welcome back, Dr. Young. You’re here bright and early. The hospital’s physician parking is closed for cleaning until eight. Just pull up on your right. I’ll take your keys and get you parked later.

Sam, the manager of hospital parking facilities, must have been in his early fifties. He was thin, and balding, but the man had energy to burn. He was always such a help when he knew Brad was in a rush and would more than likely have a long day. Sam had worked at Doctors’ Hospital for close to twenty years and all the physicians knew that no matter how crowded the parking garage became, he could somehow manage to find a space for one more car.

Tossing the keys to Sam, it dawned on Brad that he had never asked this man if he was married. He wondered if he had been a little dismissive of someone who was always willing to lend a hand.

As Sam reached up to grab the keys, Brad asked, You married, Sam?

Thirty years! Got three teenagers. Your dad delivered all of them. I’ve got pictures. Sam pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed several worn laminated photos to Brad.

That’s a good-looking family. I hope I get to meet them sometime.

Sam nodded as he retrieved the photos from Brad. Your keys will be on your desk, Doc.

Patting Sam on the shoulder, Brad said, Thanks. I know I don’t always take the time to show it, but I really appreciate all you do.

No problem, Doc. Have a good day and tell that pretty new wife of yours that Sam said hello.

Brad smiled as images of Anne’s interest in everyone back in Paris came to mind. Apparently, she knew everyone here as well. Remembering daily incidents during their trip, he recalled that each person his wife met would quickly succumb to that Southern charm of hers and, when it served her well, her exaggerated Southern accent. By the time they left their hotel, any museum or restaurants, Anne knew the names of nearly every employee, guide or waiter. She even knew all about their families and their favorite Parisian hangouts.

Watching her, Brad figured he needed to become a little more observant and take more of an interest in the people around him. It had certainly paid off for Anne. The doorman at their hotel brought her a basket of colorful fruit-filled meringues that his grandmother had made just for her grandson’s new friend. Their driver brought her fresh-cut flowers every morning, and no matter what she ordered from a restaurant’s menu, the chef cooked it perfectly. Brad couldn’t remember how many times he had asked for no sauce on his entrée, and the plate would arrive smothered in what he jokingly referred to as French mud. Hers, on the other hand, would always have the sauce in a pretty little dish on the side, just as she had kindly requested as she lowered her head and looked up in that cute questioning manner.

Dr. Young, hurry! A panicky shout reverberated from the hospital’s side entrance. The shrill voice shattered Brad’s memories as the piercing sound shot through every nerve in his body.

Again, in a more frantic tone, Dr. Young, we paged you three times! She’s fully dilated!

Three times? Brad rushed through the entrance, feverishly patting his pockets as he ran up the stairwell two steps at a time. He hurried into Labor and Delivery mumbling, Well, Anne’s bound to be wide awake by now. He realized he had left his pager on their bedside table. A third beep indicated a definite need for urgency, but with his pager nowhere on his body, unfortunately he had heard only two.

Grabbing the patient’s chart from the irritated nurse, he read the latest entries and hurried in. Brad’s first day back had begun with a somewhat rocky start.

Chapter Two

A Reality Check

Rolling over, Anne patted the comforter up and down and then whispered his name. Her heart sank; there was no sound of Brad’s voice. She realized he must have already left for the hospital. Turning over, she stretched, then opened her eyes. Even though her husband wasn’t there, that didn’t stop her mind from being filled with thoughts of him. It seemed their time in Paris had gone by so quickly. She remembered how warm he’d felt as he pulled her close each morning, and as hard as she tried, she could never seem to get close enough. She breathed in deeply, then exhaled as she thought of how they’d start each day in such a loving manner. Sighing with a soft smile, she recalled how each memory still filled her dreams with the excitement of lazy mornings. She could still hear the faint sounds of the French boulevards coming to life and could even imagine the golden glow of the fading Parisian lights peeking through the window’s translucent sheers as he reached for her.

Suddenly a loud beep interrupted the picture her mind was painting. Startled, she stammered, Wha . . . what was that? Evidently, those sweet scenes had carried her far away, as she heard two more beeps resonating from Brad’s pager. Anne knew those sounds well—three beeps indicated urgency. Yawning, she realized that she must have slept through each one of those sharp annoying sounds, as well as his rush to get to the hospital. She closed her eyes again and wished they were still back in France where there were no beeps to interrupt passionate memories or moments . . . but they weren’t.

As she lay there, Anne’s thoughts migrated to her mother and the day her life ended when Anne was just fourteen. She arranged and fluffed her pillows just like the two of them would do when they’d snuggle to talk about Anne’s plans for the day. While they talked, Gretchen would gently stroke her hair. She missed her mother and their talks so much, especially now that she had so much to say. She began to whisper.

Mama, I am married to such a wonderful man. Brad is everything you and Daddy could have ever wanted for me and I love being his wife. What I’d give to share everything about him with you. You’d love him too, Mama. Anne’s eyes began to tear. I want to hear your voice. I’ve almost forgotten how it sounds, but I’ll never forget how good it made me feel. Oh Mama, if I could have just one more conversation with you. I think about how much I still love and miss you every single day and I haven’t forgotten; I’ll always hold your promise deep in my heart. That hope makes everything okay. She smiled as she wiped a tear. Even today, when I’m no longer in Paris. Anne glanced at the clock. She moaned as she slowly rolled over, sat up and placed her feet on the floor. Seven-thirty! I need to get dressed!

Following a warm shower, Anne slipped into one of her new satin and lace robes from a little shop on the outskirts of Chantilly. It was such a lovely little town outside of Paris. She walked over to her closet. Sliding hangers aside one by one, she surveyed and selected her designery outfit for the day.

By now, most of her senses were finally awake; the faint aroma of coffee smelled good. Rolling her eyes, she said, Brad must have brewed a pot before he left.

Walking into the kitchen, Anne spotted his cup sitting on the counter. It still felt warm when she picked it up. She poured her coffee into his cup and thought of him sipping from the same edge as her mouth met the rim. It was the closest thing to his kiss available at the moment. After another sip and another long sigh, she finished dressing. Taking one last glance in the mirror, she added lip gloss and left for what she expected to be a full day. She’d have tons to catch up on after being away for three weeks.

Martha, the office manager at Wilson Interiors, greeted Anne as she hurried through the door to start her week. They hugged, and with a gleam in her eyes Martha asked about France.

It could not have been more wonderful and I’m ready to go back, Anne confessed.

Martha raised her brow. You’ll wish that even more once you’ve seen your desk. That Ben Wilson had the nerve to schedule two meetings for you today. One at ten and one at eleven-thirty, each with a new client. One’s near the hospital and the other’s downtown. I have no clue how he thought you could make both of those appointments on time in downtown traffic.

Anne shrugged as Martha continued. The new folders are on your desk. You have just enough time to read up on the projects and get to that first meeting.

No problem, Anne assured, but that was before she saw the mountain of paperwork stuffed into her in-basket. Groaning, she decided she’d tackle that stack later.

Sitting down at her desk, she picked up the first folder and turned toward the window. It would have been a perfect day for enjoying Paris. The sun was leisurely appearing from behind wispy clouds that resembled long thin feathers, and even though it was unusual for this time of year, the day was warming up a little, despite a brisk breeze.

Stop it! Anne said aloud. No daydreaming. Get to work! Besides, Brad promised another trip to Europe, maybe even in the summer. She guessed she’d just have to wait and live off of her memories like her Aunt Frances, her daddy’s sister who lived in Smithfield, North Carolina. When Anne visited, her aunt would pull out old faded photographs. She felt sad as she remembered how her aunt’s eyes would linger, even sometimes tear up, as she relived each second of the captured moment. Now, after Paris, Anne understood.

Half-heartedly opening the project folder in her hand, she paused in order to focus. The first folder included a blueprint. She had been assigned the interiors for Charles Billings’ newly constructed offices. He was a cardiologist, who for some reason, probably his flirtatious manner, was not one of Brad’s favorites. Charles was moving his offices to the new doctors’ building. He would be located on the same floor as Brad’s new offices. Then she spied a scribbled note in her boss’s handwriting dated December eleventh, the day after she spoke with Charles at the Youngs’ new office party, and before Brad had proposed. Evidently when Charles had called about his interior design needs, he had specifically requested Anne to be his designer. What a cad, she thought, rolling her eyes as she laughed.

The second folder concerned an associate of Mr. Todd James, CEO of the famous old C&C Corporation, who because of his ever-present sense of humor was one of Anne’s favorite clients. She had met this new associate of Mr. James, a Mr. Connor, outside the old C&C building on a scorching hot summer afternoon. Anne remembered it well because Mr. Connor’s glasses had fogged up. Between the profusion of sweat from his forehead and the foggy glasses, the poor gentleman was having a tough time seeing. She recalled thinking how nice he seemed when she learned he was the C&C vice president who had been charged with turning their historic building into a state-of-the-art C&C museum. Anne rubbed her hands together and smiled. A museum! This would be fun, and the most unique project she had ever tackled.

After dusting off her briefcase and adding the folders, she walked down the hall to say hello to her boss, Ben Wilson. Anne stuck her head in his office. He was nowhere to be found, so she waved goodbye to Martha and rushed toward the door.

Before reaching for the handle, Anne stopped and turned back. Where’s Suzi?

That busy assistant of yours is installing the furniture and art for the accounting department at C&C’s new headquarters this morning, but she is some kind of glad that you’ll be in the office today, Martha answered.

Please tell her I should be back here no later than three. We’ll probably need a couple of hours to get me up to speed after my being away for the last few weeks.

Walking to the parking lot, Anne clicked the key to unlock her car door. Slipping inside, she placed her briefcase on the seat and started the car. Then she whipped out on to Peachtree Street and drove a little faster than her normal speed. She was intent on making every one of the ridiculously timed lights between her office and the old doctors’ building. She would have bet big money that the green light changed every ten seconds, while the red one lasted two to three minutes.

Dodging traffic and red lights, she pulled up to her destination with just minutes to spare. Anne stared at the tired red brick building. The large window panes, the weathered bronze metal railings and the thick glass double-doors brought back the wonder of the day that changed her life. Her struggle to walk through those heavy doors had certainly been worth the effort. That afternoon, she’d met the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on—her future husband. Anne glanced at her watch; there was no time to reminisce.

Charles’ office was on the first floor near the coffee shop and the fresh aroma was so inviting. She was glad she knew Charles socially; he wouldn’t mind if she walked in with a coffee cup in hand. The shop was small and usually crowded, but today, amazingly, she was the only one at the counter.

A hazelnut latte, please? Anne asked. What the heck . . . with extra sugar.

The lady behind the counter didn’t smile and seemed to be in a fog. You can get your sugar over there at the counter, she muttered in a curt tone as she held out the latte.

Taking the warm cup, Anne thanked her as she paid, she patted the woman’s hand. The server’s expression registered embarrassment and the woman made a beeline over to get several packets of sugar for Anne. Both smiled as she handed the packets to her customer. Anne added the sugar, quickly stirred her cup and wished the sad-looking lady a blessed day before walking across the hall.

Entering the medical office, she introduced herself. Anne Young with Wilson Interiors to see Dr. Billings, please.

Oh, Mrs. Young, I’m so sorry. I tried to call your office, but I was transferred to voicemail. He’s running late with complications in the Cath lab. The receptionist looked at a calendar and added, He asked if you could possibly reschedule for Wednesday morning. It’s his day off and he’d like to take you to Buckhead Diner for lunch after your meeting.

Anne nodded as she checked her calendar. Tell him I can be here Wednesday by ten, but I’ll have to skip lunch. I’m meeting my husband at noon in the hospital cafeteria. As an afterthought, she added, But Dr. Billings is welcome to join us.

Leaving the building, Anne stuffed her empty cup in the overflowing trash receptacle and hurried back to her car. Driving down Peachtree, she realized the next appointment was one block from The Varsity. They served Brad’s favorite hotdogs. Aha, she beamed, reaching for her cell.

Chapter Three

Lunch for Two

Anne called the Youngs’ office manager. Miss Davis, it’s Anne . . . yes, the new Mrs. Young! She couldn’t help grinning as those words left her mouth. We had a fabulous time. I hated for it to end. Where is that gorgeous husband of mine? Another smile appeared.

He just brought a baby boy into this world and should be up here in about twenty minutes, Miss Davis informed her. He’s got nearly fifteen patients waiting. His dad is trying to work some of the ladies into his own schedule to whittle the number down for Brad. Your man is traveling in the slow lane today."

Bless his heart. I’ll bring you all some lunch. How many do you have working today?

Seven, counting me. Oh, and two more in the lab. So that makes nine altogether.

I’ll bring lots of Varsity hotdogs. I should be there around one.

Arriving at her next appointment, Anne parked at the unusually small, two-story stucco building at C&C. She entered and was escorted to Mr. Connor’s office on the first floor. After Anne spent thirty minutes getting reacquainted and looking over proposed architectural renderings for the museum, his assistant handed her the disk of CAD drawings that she would need for working on interior ideas and details.

Mr. Conner’s assistant scheduled her next appointment two weeks out. That worked for Anne; it would give her plenty of time to be ready to present initial design concepts for consideration. The timeline she had been given for completing the museum was pretty aggressive, which meant she needed to get the project started as soon as possible. But as for today, this newlywed left C&C with nothing but lunch with Brad on her mind.

Pulling into one of the spaces in The Varsity parking lot, Anne waited for a carhop to approach her window.

What’ll ya have? That question was the famous call that preceded every order at The Varsity and it always brought a chuckle. Anne’s server pulled out his pad and pencil and asked again, What’ll ya have?

I need thirty chili dogs with a bag of chopped onions on the side. Four orders of onion rings, four orders of French fries, four bags of chips and twelve fried pies . . . peach, please. I also need two large fountain Cokes.

Anne realized she could only carry so much and decided everyone, except Brad, of course, could grab a Coke or water from the refrigerator at the office. Brad Sr. would be fine; he kept a private stash of Orange Crush that no one was allowed to touch, not even his son.

In just a few minutes her server was back. Ma’am, that’ll be one hundred twenty-six bucks and a quarter without the tip.

Anne smiled. She had three fifties and a twenty in an envelope left from the currency exchange at the airport. She reached for bag after bag and several boxes on the huge tray of food. The poor carhop bobbed and weaved while he tried to keep the unwieldy tray level. She laid the envelope with the cash on the tray by his hand. Have a great day, she said with a smile. After checking her rear-view mirror, she slowly backed out. Anne couldn’t wait to surprise a certain doctor.

As she drove to Brad’s office the irresistible smell of hotdogs got the best of her. Having had no time for breakfast, she was starved and thirsty. Careful to keep her eyes on the road, she one-handedly plundered through one of the boxes until she brought up a nice warm chili dog, scarfed it down and then repeated the process. After two hotdogs and a few gulps of her Coke, she felt better.

Pulling up to the garage booth at the new doctors’ building, Anne was thankful to see her old friend. Sam, I’m so glad you’re here! Then she playfully whined, Can you believe all the food I’ve got to carry up to Brad’s office all by myself?

Yes, ma’am, I can! I smell The Varsity!

Will you please ride up to the tenth floor with me and help me carry all this stuff in?

Sam just grinned and hopped in. They drove to the top deck. He was used to helping this designer carry in loads of art, small pieces of furniture, or tons of shopping bags.

What are you doing with all this food? Sam asked as he loaded both arms.

Taking lunch to my sweet husband.

I saw him early this morning. He was in a hurry, Sam said as he walked around and closed her car door. But you know what, Anne? He asked me if I was married and took time to look at pictures of my children.

Anne laughed as she looked at Sam. Marriage has taken on new meaning for Brad. I think he likes it.

He’s a nice man, Anne.

I’ll tell him you said so. He’ll like that!

Let me help you with those drinks, Sam offered. Oh yeah, I’ve got his car keys in my pocket. I need to put ‘em on his desk.

Let’s go this way, Anne said as they walked toward the building. She shifted bags in order to open an exit door. They walked down the back hall and entered the office’s private door. The break room was directly to the right. They trudged in and dropped the many bags and boxes on the counter. Panting, Anne urged, Sam, you need to stay and have lunch. We have plenty.

Those dogs sure do smell good. But I’ve got to get back to the parking booth. Can I take one with me?

Absolutely. Anne placed two hotdogs, chips and a pie in a bag and handed it to him along with Brad’s fountain Coke. Thank you so much, Sam. You’re a life saver.

Sam put the keys on Brad’s desk before he left while Anne set the table with paper plates, napkins and condiments for the staff.

Brad opened the door and sluggishly exited one of the exam rooms. He heard his dad’s voice. He had joined his dad’s practice the day after passing his boards and hadn’t had a vacation since. Walking into Brad Sr.’s office he asked, How did the practice get along without me, Dad?

We managed, but it wasn’t easy, Brad Sr. confessed.

Brad walked over and gave his dad a hug.

Son, how much weight have you lost? You’re looking mighty thin!

Dad, French food is not for a meat and potatoes fella. They smother everything in gravy or some sort of sauce. You can’t even find the meat. And then you have to remember . . . there was so much to see in France, lots of walking all over the place. And I was very conscientious about keeping up with an exercise program, He said with a chuckle.

Brad Sr. laughed. Well, how does it feel to be a married man?

It’s better than anything I could have ever imagined. She’s amazing, Dad. Leaving her this morning was awful.

Well, you might like to know that she’s right down the hall.

Brad’s eyes lit up. Anne? Down our hall?

Yep, she’s in the break room. With all the bags she and Sam brought in, it looks like she bought out The Varsity. And if my memory serves me correctly, they don’t have sauces.

"Nope. Just good old chili