the end of her first week eight hours away. Jamie’s Highlander was in its usual place. No matter how early she got here with thoughts of making coffee for Jamie, she was always here first, shut in her office going through patient files.
She sighed as she got out of her Subaru. Part of her wanted to go home, crawl back into bed, and waste the day on a romance novel. Fictional love was less heartbreaking—the girl you’d never forgotten scooped you up and carried you off to a future in her arms.
Smoothing the skirt that was one of her favorites and feeling silly for hoping Jamie would like it, she took a deep breath and stepped into the clinic. It was quiet except for Melissa’s voice coming from the office to the right, Jamie’s office. She hesitated at the closed door. She couldn’t lie to herself that she’d hoped to see Jamie, maybe even talk to her alone. Chickening out, she went to the break room and poured coffee into one of the chipped brown mugs. They could use a whole new set of dishes.
Betty’s office was behind the front counter, secluded from patients’ view but close enough that she could keep an ear on the goings-on. Her office. If I stay. Turning on the Mac, she took a sip of coffee and held the cup away as if it’d bitten her. She was a coffee snob, but this wasn’t even tolerable. She could remedy that. If I stay.
A week and she still wasn’t sure. The job was interesting and a good fit for her skills. But to be teased every day with the future she couldn’t have kept her off balance in a way she didn’t like. Jamie not remembering her was part of the dilemma, but so was her own cowardice. She’d listened for the staff to mention a partner or any call from one. The thought of Jamie single sent her heart into excited cartwheels, but it would be unprofessional to approach her in a personal way. Ten minutes later she knocked lightly on Jamie’s door, her heart pounding. She hadn’t been alone with Jamie since the interview.
*
Jamie had just found something interesting in the patient file when she heard a knock at her door. She was making some progress now that she wasn’t struggling to find a new office manager. She expected Don or Sara when she opened the door, but instead Carla stood there, wearing a pretty peach-colored floral-print skirt and matching knit top. Carla in her office took some getting used to. “Good morning.”
“Do you have a minute?”
Jamie pulled her eyes from the white sweater draped over Carla’s shoulders. “Sure.” She closed her eyes for a moment as Carla walked by. She liked that perfume.
“I was entering yesterday’s billings and had a question.” Carla clasped the patient file in both hands. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Betty’s not coming in until after lunch.”
Jamie sat down behind her desk. “No bother.”
“I’ve been reading your chart notes so I can get used to your handwriting, and the terminology you use. If I’m reading this file correctly,” Carla said, setting it on the desk, “you adjusted this patient and put heat on her neck and did ultrasound on her shoulder. But you checked only the boxes on the billing page for the adjustment and the ultrasound. Did you mean to not bill for the heat pack, or was it an oversight? I want to make sure I’m doing everything right with the billing.”
Jamie put her forearms on the desk. Carla’s eyes held hers, subtly shaded with eye shadow that brought out the gold tones, and still as kind as they’d been the first time she’d seen them. She was beautiful, an older version of the woman she’d known for a night. She shook off the memories. “Legally I can bill for any physical therapy, but I don’t. I bill for only one. I don’t run my clinic like a hospital where they nickel-and-dime insurance companies for every syringe and Band-Aid. At the heart of it, we’re charging the patient.”
“I’d say that’s honorable of you, Dr. Hammond.” Carla crossed her legs. “What
She sighed as she got out of her Subaru. Part of her wanted to go home, crawl back into bed, and waste the day on a romance novel. Fictional love was less heartbreaking—the girl you’d never forgotten scooped you up and carried you off to a future in her arms.
Smoothing the skirt that was one of her favorites and feeling silly for hoping Jamie would like it, she took a deep breath and stepped into the clinic. It was quiet except for Melissa’s voice coming from the office to the right, Jamie’s office. She hesitated at the closed door. She couldn’t lie to herself that she’d hoped to see Jamie, maybe even talk to her alone. Chickening out, she went to the break room and poured coffee into one of the chipped brown mugs. They could use a whole new set of dishes.
Betty’s office was behind the front counter, secluded from patients’ view but close enough that she could keep an ear on the goings-on. Her office. If I stay. Turning on the Mac, she took a sip of coffee and held the cup away as if it’d bitten her. She was a coffee snob, but this wasn’t even tolerable. She could remedy that. If I stay.
A week and she still wasn’t sure. The job was interesting and a good fit for her skills. But to be teased every day with the future she couldn’t have kept her off balance in a way she didn’t like. Jamie not remembering her was part of the dilemma, but so was her own cowardice. She’d listened for the staff to mention a partner or any call from one. The thought of Jamie single sent her heart into excited cartwheels, but it would be unprofessional to approach her in a personal way. Ten minutes later she knocked lightly on Jamie’s door, her heart pounding. She hadn’t been alone with Jamie since the interview.
*
Jamie had just found something interesting in the patient file when she heard a knock at her door. She was making some progress now that she wasn’t struggling to find a new office manager. She expected Don or Sara when she opened the door, but instead Carla stood there, wearing a pretty peach-colored floral-print skirt and matching knit top. Carla in her office took some getting used to. “Good morning.”
“Do you have a minute?”
Jamie pulled her eyes from the white sweater draped over Carla’s shoulders. “Sure.” She closed her eyes for a moment as Carla walked by. She liked that perfume.
“I was entering yesterday’s billings and had a question.” Carla clasped the patient file in both hands. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Betty’s not coming in until after lunch.”
Jamie sat down behind her desk. “No bother.”
“I’ve been reading your chart notes so I can get used to your handwriting, and the terminology you use. If I’m reading this file correctly,” Carla said, setting it on the desk, “you adjusted this patient and put heat on her neck and did ultrasound on her shoulder. But you checked only the boxes on the billing page for the adjustment and the ultrasound. Did you mean to not bill for the heat pack, or was it an oversight? I want to make sure I’m doing everything right with the billing.”
Jamie put her forearms on the desk. Carla’s eyes held hers, subtly shaded with eye shadow that brought out the gold tones, and still as kind as they’d been the first time she’d seen them. She was beautiful, an older version of the woman she’d known for a night. She shook off the memories. “Legally I can bill for any physical therapy, but I don’t. I bill for only one. I don’t run my clinic like a hospital where they nickel-and-dime insurance companies for every syringe and Band-Aid. At the heart of it, we’re charging the patient.”
“I’d say that’s honorable of you, Dr. Hammond.” Carla crossed her legs. “What
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