‘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. ‘Hey,’ she protested. ‘They were in order.’
‘Does everything always have to be in order?’
Gritting her teeth, Carrie collected the scattered papers. Her heart hammered as she bit back a hundred things she wanted to say. ‘What I do with my life is none of your business,’ she muttered as she jammed them into her briefcase.
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.