The sooner she started the sooner she’d finish.
Karan noticed the blonde woman standing behind the desk, but it was the man in front of the desk who stopped her cold.
“Charles?”
He looked the way he always did. So handsome that the very sight of him startled her. There was just something about his chiseled features, the way his dark eyes contrasted with his lighter hair. Not blond, but not quite brown, either. A sandy in between. His closely trimmed beard and mustache only emphasized the maleness of his face.
His expression was the same, too. So arrogant that she crashed right back to reality.
Dr. Disdain, she’d once called him. At least that had been his attitude toward her.
“Karan.” He didn’t even have the grace to utter any social niceties. No “Pleased to see you.” No “You look well.”
Of course not. The man stood there looking as if he was above everyone and everything and wished he was anywhere in the world rather than facing her.
Karan’s feelings might have been hurt had she not been so surprised to see him. And had she cared what he thought about her. She didn’t.
Of course, she wasn’t rude. “I’m surprised to see you. What are you doing here?”
“I’m Dr. Camden, Karan. Please call me Rhonda.” The blonde behind the desk extended her hand. “Turns out we have an unexpected situation.”
She shook the doctor’s hand. Rhonda wasn’t a natural blonde like Karan herself, but Karan did approve of the highlighting job. Skillfully done to look natural. Not like so many of the streaky chicken-yellow horrors on the streets nowadays.
“I’m bracing myself.” Karan meant it. Bracing herself for the shock of yet another unexpected situation. Bracing herself to be standing two feet away from this man.
And darned if her heartbeat hadn’t already kicked up a few notches. He’d always had that effect on her. He was too attractive. Tall with that baseball player’s body. A perfect blend of athletic and muscular. And darned, too, if she didn’t remember exactly what the terrain beneath his lightweight black sweater and gray pants looked like.
Far too attractive for her good.
Rhonda’s mouth quirked. “I wasn’t aware of your history with our director when I agreed to participate in the alternative sentencing program.”
“You’re the director?” she asked Charles, surprised. “Not spending every waking moment in surgery anymore?”
Where he’d spent the majority of their marriage.
“Codirector, actually,” he replied in that deep voice she remembered so well. He inclined his head at Rhonda. “We’re partners in crime around here.”
Karan bristled, unsure exactly what he meant by that. Was he taking a jab at her legal trouble? Or referring to something personal between him and his codirector?
“So you didn’t know Charles was involved with New Hope, either?” Rhonda asked.
As if Karan would want him to witness her humiliation. The woman must be as crazy as her patients. Karan managed to say politely, “No. I’m afraid I didn’t.”
Charles and Rhonda exchanged a glance.
Personal, definitely.
“Okay then,” Rhonda said. “We need to decide how to proceed.”
“Conflict of interest,” Charles offered, pointedly ignoring Karan.
Rude man.
Rhonda ignored him, which pleased Karan to no end. “Karan, how do you feel about all this? What are your thoughts about volunteering at New Hope now you know Charles is on staff?”
Any possibility of getting a gun? She wasn’t sure yet whether she’d shoot herself or him. “I can’t answer that until I know how he might impact my…work.”
As good a way as any to phrase it, she supposed.
Rhonda folded her arms over her chest. “I’m in charge of the program, so you’ll report to me. But Charles is often around. There’s no question about whether you’ll run into him.”
“Any idea how often?” Karan pointedly avoided looking at him. Two could play this game.
“I’m not sure how we can put your skills to use yet, so I can’t say if you’ll run into each other a lot or a little. Depends on where you’ll be. He’s kind of everywhere.”
“Conflict of interest,” Charles repeated.
Rhonda scribbled something on the outside of a file folder with Karan’s name. “I still don’t think so. Not if all parties are aware of the situation and are consenting. But I can always check with the police chief to be sure.”
“The police chief is the one who suggested the alternative sentence, remember?” Charles was positively scowling. The man obviously didn’t care if he hurt her feelings.
Rhonda only shrugged. “The judge then.”
“I’d rather not if you don’t mind.” The last thing Karan needed was Wannabe Jenny taking another stab at her. She’d already had to beg permission to drive her car to New Hope.
Rhonda shifted her gaze between Karan and Charles. “Then what’s it going to be, people? We need all hands on deck. Are we up to working together for the benefit of families in crisis or would we rather cut our losses now?”
If nothing else, Karan appreciated the woman’s frankness. And the fact that she’d hadn’t mentioned the mandated therapy sessions. Karan’s sentence wasn’t governed by state privacy acts or confidentiality. Anyone could visit the sheriff’s website and get a good chuckle at her expense.
Charles didn’t reply.
Neither did Karan. The therapy part of the alternative sentence was contingent upon a facility offering the services, which was precisely why Wannabe Jenny had waived the three-hour substance abuse class. She didn’t have too many choices that didn’t involve wearing orange.
“So, Charles and Karan,” Rhonda said brightly. “Does silence mean we all agree to play nice?”
Karan almost smiled. She wasn’t sure why. The playground metaphor, maybe. With every fiber of her being she knew Charles wanted her to agree there was a conflict of interest to save him from forcing the issue. He’d been here first.
Unfortunately for him, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. If he wanted her off his turf so badly he could help her get time off for good behavior.
“I’d like this nightmare over with,” she told them. “If that means dealing with Charles Steinberg for three hundred and fifty-nine hours and—” she glanced at her watch “—thirty-one minutes then so be it.”
Rhonda inclined her head in approval. “Charles?”
He nodded, still refusing to look at her. Honestly. How juvenile could a grown man be?
“You’re done with me, Dr. Camden?” he asked.
“I am, Dr. Steinberg. Thanks for making the time.”
“No problem at all.”
Charles meant what he said. Karan could tell he liked Rhonda. The sentiment appeared to be mutual, which made Karan wonder again if these two were involved in more than work. Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake?
But she didn’t care about Charles’s love life. No way could she have possibly kept up with him. Not according to the Bluestone grapevine. Apparently, he dated anything that moved, and Karan couldn’t