Page 40 of Prognosis Bad Timing

‘I know. And I know you’ve had a shitty couple of years. I also know you’ve become a workaholic hermit. It’s not even seven in the morning and you’re at your desk.’

‘I’m dedicated, dickhead. And anyway, you’re here, aren’t you?’

‘But I’m hyperactive.”

That was true. Joe had the attention span of a three-year-old with ants in his pants.

“We’ll go to The Mill,” he pronounced.

‘Sure,’ Charlie agreed tonelessly. He didn’t care where they went.

Joe shook his head and laughed. ‘Don’t worry, old mate. We’ll get you hooked up and this whole nightmare will be behind you. You’ll be able to get on with your life. It’ll be like it never happened.’

Oh, no. One thing was for sure. This was one thing he was never going to forget had happened. ‘I think I’ve forgotten how to pick up women, Joe.’

Had he forgotten or was it just so completely uninteresting to him now? Between his disastrous marriage and examining his mortality just about every day for the last six months, he’d had a lot of time to ponder things.

Maybe some people were meant to be hermits.

Joe cracked up. ‘You?’ He laughed. ‘Impossible. Even a wedding ring didn’t deter women. All you have to do is just sit back and let it happen.’

As always, his best friend was right. What the hell mood was this he was in today? A few weeks ago he’d been champing at the bit to release six months’ worth of pent-up frustration but on D-day it now didn’t seem so important.

The thought of picking up a stranger and taking her home left him cold. The only woman that preoccupied him these days was the one who sat in his staffroom all day with a bunch of figures and a pair of lips he was supposed to be forgetting about.

He took another sip of coffee. It was official — he had a thing for Dr Carrie Douglas.

––––––––

Carrie arrived at work shortly after seven. She was hoping a few early starts would help her complete her investigation sooner. Even if it was just a day or two.

That was one advantageof having a live-in nanny!

She placed the key she’d insisted Charlie provide for her in the front door, only to discover the centre already open. No clients were in yet but she could hear the murmur of voices from Charlie’s office.

‘Hi,’ she called, smiling at Joe and nodding to Charlie as she walked past his open door.

She ignored the flare of heat she’d seen in Charlie’s steady grey gaze. The same flare she’d seen that night they were supposed to be forgetting about.

Bloody hell, how was she going to get through another fortnight of this insanity?

Her attraction to Charlie was getting harder and harder to ignore. Even at home, away from the centre, she was getting no respite — Dana made sure of that. Charlie was her newest favourite person and she hadn’t stopped chattering about him.

Or his damn dukebox.

She was setting up her laptop when he waltzed into the staffroom.

‘How’s Dana?’ he asked, fixing himself another coffee.

Carrie gritted her teeth. The mutual admiration society was wearing thin. ‘Fine.’

‘Those sutures can come out at the weekend.’ He stirred his drink.

‘Yes, thank you, Charlie. I can count to five.’ She clicked on her file.

Charlie turned and raised an eyebrow at her as he leant back against the sink. ‘You can bring her in and I’ll take them out if you want.’

‘I know you don’t have a whole lot of faith in my doctoring skills, Charlie, but I’m pretty sure even I can manage to remove four sutures.’

---