Page 14 of Prognosis Bad Timing

‘It’s used most days by our regular clinic holders so you’ll have to vacate it during those times. Other than that there’s the staffroom.’

Carrie glared at him. How was she supposed to work being shifted from pillar to post all the time? She was not a fan of hot-desking. ‘I need somewhere without constant interruptions.’

Charlie almost smiled, half expecting her to stamp her foot. She was annoyed? Good, she was bugging the hell out of him. She didn’t look so prim and proper any more, he noted with satisfaction. She looked ruffled. Like she wanted to swear. She looked touchable.

Very touchable.

He shrugged. ‘I want to cure poverty and homelessness and play cricket for Australia. Never going to happen.’

Folding her arms, she ignored his response. ‘Which one will have the fewest interruptions?’

He snorted. ‘Ever heard of chaos theory?’

Her knuckles whitened around the handle of her briefcase. ‘I do believe physics is covered in medical degrees.”

Charlie laughed at her irritation despite the strength of his own. ‘Well, forget whatever you learned. This place is chaotic and, trust me, there is no underlying order.’

“Noted.” She quirked an eyebrow. “So?”

He sighed. Whether he liked it or not, he was stuck with her. ‘The staffroom’s your best bet.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Follow me. I’ll show you around.’

Carrie stood aside as Charlie brushed past. He was dressed as casually as he’d been last night. Trendy cargo shorts that fell just past his knees and another pre-school-inspired T-shirt.

She caught a faint whiff of his aftershave and fought the urge to keep pace with his long-legged stride. Every sensible cell in her body was telling her to keep her distance.

And she was listening.

He took her out to the front area first. ‘This is the reception area.’ He checked his watch. ‘Angela should be in soon.’

‘Angela?’

‘She’s the receptionist.’

‘Why isn’t she here already?’

‘She’s a local divorced grandmother who cares for her two grandkids on a permanent basis. She arrives after she’s dropped them at school.’

‘Surely it would be more efficient to have someone here when the clinic first opens?’

Charlie regarded the pin-striped woman for long moments. He could see Carrie’s business brain already writing recommendations. ‘Angela is invaluable. As a single mother yourself, surely you can see the advantage of being flexible?’

Carrie was torn between the emotional answer and the fiscally responsible answer. She gave herself a mental shake. She wasn’t paid to think emotionally. ‘Flexible isn’t always good for the bottom line.’

Ah, hell. Charlie despised bottom-line thinking. There was no room for people in bottom-line thinking. ‘Wait till you meet her. You’ll understand.’

He moved over towards the games area, not wanting to get into a fruitless discussion with a bottom-liner over their obviously different visions. ‘As you can see, we have a ping-pong table and a pool table, a small library, a lounge area and a jukebox.’

Carrie nodded, picking up a ball off the pool table as she watched the two teenagers she’d seen earlier battling it out at ping-pong. ‘The purpose of these being?’

He eyeballed her. Did he have to explain it? ‘Recreation.’

‘Is it a medical centre’s role to provide recreation?’

Charlie grimaced. Bottom line again. ‘This is a drop-in centre, Carrie. It’s not just about fixing people’s ailments. A large portion of our client base is homeless kids, disaffected youth. If they’re in here, listening to music or shooting pool, then they’re not out on the streets, shooting drugs.’

“Drugs?” She blinked obviously finding the idea distasteful. ‘Shouldn’t they be at school?’

Charlie snorted. ‘Of course they should but guess what? Telling them they should be at school generally doesn’t work — their parents have already tried that. Look, we get a lot of community support groups come through the centre every day, talking to the kids that are around, helping them to get their lives together. We can’t do that in a sterile judgmental environment.”

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