Carrie wandered down to the staffroom. It was after five and she really needed to get home. Now the crisis was over she felt strangely depleted and she sat at the table for a moment to collect herself, staring at her laptop—another wasted afternoon.
Carrie sighed. She was never going to get this finished. And she really, really needed to because the longer she was around Charlie the more she began to question the direction of her life. And she was very comfortable with that direction. Or at least she had been.
The door opened. ‘Well, that’s the paperwork done. Thanks so much for earlier, Carrie. You were wonderful,’ Charlie said, walking straight to the table and sitting down.
Do not listen to his praise. You are on track to becoming Australia’s youngest MD. ‘Didn’t really have a whole lot of choice, did I?’
‘That’s why we need the expansion.’ Charlie winked. ‘A female doctor around here would be very handy.’
Carrie shook her head. ‘You know there’s no way the board is going to agree to your plans.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m feeling suddenly optimistic.’
She shook her head again. He was smiling at her and his grey eyes, three-day growth and shaggy hair oozed sex appeal.
‘Well, don’t count your chickens,’ she warned wearily, packing up her stuff.
‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’ He watched her zipping her laptop away. ‘What about you?’
‘What about me?’
‘Well, I made a decision today to get my life back on track. To stop treading water and get back in there again. But what about you? Today you demonstrated yet again how good a clinician you are. Isn’t it time you gave up all this—’ he picked up some of her papers and threw them in the air ‘—and got back to what you’re really good at?’
Carrie watched the papers float down, some landing on the table, the others on the floor. She glared at him. ‘They were in order,’ she snapped.
‘Good,’ he said firmly. ‘Stop hiding behind them, Carrie.’
Carrie gritted her teeth and collected the scattered papers. Her heart hammered as she bit back a hundred things she wanted to say. She jammed them in her briefcase. ‘What I do with my life is none of your business.’
Charlie shook his head. ‘You’re wasting your talent.’
‘Guess you know how your father feels now,’ she snapped, sweeping her briefcase off the table, ripping her jacket off the back of her chair and stalking out of the room, slamming the door behind her for good measure.
Charlie sat at the table unmoving for a few moments. Touché, Carrie. Touché.
CHAPTER SIX
CARRIE arrived at the centre on Wednesday morning and was surprised not to see Charlie sitting at his desk. Surely she hadn’t beaten him in? They’d barely spoken since his comment on Friday, trading polite, brief conversation only.
She opened the door to the staffroom to find him sitting at the table, turning an envelope over and over in his hands. His usual mug was in front of him.
‘Morning.’
Charlie looked up from the yellow envelope that contained his test results. For once her pinstriped primness didn’t register. ‘Morning.’
‘Would you like a refill?’ she asked politely, switching the kettle on.
Charlie tapped the envelope against the wood of the table. ‘Yes, please.’ He drank the cold dregs of his current cup and held it out for her to take.
Carrie put her laptop on the table and took the mug. She put coffee into both the cups, aware of his brooding presence behind her, and poured the boiling water, adding sugar and milk to his and milk only to hers. She carried them over to the table, plonking his down and taking a seat herself. Charlie was still staring at the envelope.
Carrie blew on the hot liquid and took a sip. ‘Worried it’s a letter bomb?’
Charlie gave a grudging smile. ‘What’s in here is potentially explosive.’ It could potentially detonate his whole life.
‘Looks official,’ she commented. The envelope looked just like the generic yellow ones they used in most government organisations.
Charlie nodded. ‘It is.’
Carrie took another sip. ‘So…you’re just going to look at it?’
Charlie threw the envelope on the table. ‘They’re my test results.’
She nodded. So he hadn’t given blood the other day. ‘From the blood test you had on Friday?’
‘You’re very observant.’
Carrie smiled. ‘I have a four-year-old. You have to be on the ball.’
He chuckled. ‘Yeah, I bet Dana keeps you on your toes.’
‘That she does.’
A few more moments passed where they both sipped at their coffee and stared at the envelope. It was hard to believe that a piece of yellow paper could be so compelling.