‘Come on, Connor, you knew about her past. She had an illness for a long time. One that prevented her accessing healthcare on any kind of regular basis. She was an addict.’
‘I’m sorry, I know this must be painful.’
‘It happened. And we all have to move on.’ She saw her pain briefly mirrored in his eyes. Then the shutters came down, eradicating any emotion in his gaze. Moving on from tragedy was clearly something they’d both had to do.
She knew Connor’s sister had died a long time ago as a child—she’d seen a picture of a pretty blonde kid. But when she’d asked about it she’d been met with a wall of silence. And she’d never found the courage to enquire again.
For Mim, talking about her mother brought out a fierce love and protective instinct in her. The same, she imagined, that Connor felt about his sister. The same instinct she felt for her burgeoning clinic.
‘The drugs didn’t just destroy her, they destroyed any kind of family life. She was scared to go to the doctor in case she was judged. And she would have been. Dana was judged her whole life for winning and losing and everything in between. For what she could have been. What she wasn’t. Sad when a town pins their hopes on you, and you fail.’
Mim shrugged, fired now to continue. ‘She hated the sterility of the doctor’s surgery, the smell. I thought if I made this place accessible and non-judgemental, open and caring, then more people like her would come.’
He put his pen down and finally looked up at her, rested his chin on his fist. Like he was really seeing her for the first time since he’d walked back into her life. ‘You never talked about it like this. I didn’t realise … I’m surprised you got out whole.’
You don’t know the half of it. ‘Who said I was?’
‘From what I remember, you’re more whole than most.’ He smiled. It seemed genuine enough. Warm honey flecks flashed in his eyes.
Ah, there they are. She relaxed a little. It had taken time, but they were back. At least for now. At least he remembered some of their time together with fondness, then. Maybe he’d be gentle after all.
‘Dana’s dramas were a long time ago, and I had a great role model in my nan. My focus now is on family medicine. Keeping families healthy and safe. Besides …’
She forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood she’d sunk into. No point in dwelling on what had happened. She had a future ahead of her and she was going to make it work. Three months … ‘It fits well. Dana’s Drop-In. Imagine if she’d been called something like Janice or Patty. Janice’s Joint. Very inappropriate. Or Patty’s Place. Sounds like a pole-dancing club.’
He laughed. A deep rumble that teased the dark corners of her soul. Another thing she remembered about Connor. His laughter was infectious and rich. And she’d missed it. The granite softened. ‘Calling it Atanga Bay Medical Centre would have been just fine.’
‘Sure, but where’s the fun in that? I want to remind people of how Dana was before she got sick. How proud they were of her when she left to represent their country. Darling Dana. Not druggie Dana who came home in disgrace, who stole and lied and became an embarrassment.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘You’ve got to admit it’s unique. It’s open house, there’s free tea and coffee. A place to sit and chat. A small free library. Community resources. It works. Until I opened there was nothing in the way of medical services at all. Just look at the increasing patient list.’
‘Yes, I can see. It’s a surprising place to have a practice. The middle of nowhere. Albeit pretty spectacular. And you have a very unusual approach. But, then, you always were … unpredictable.’
His mouth curled into a reluctant half-smile. As if remembering something sweet, a past innocence. He reached out to her arm—a gentle gesture that five minutes ago she wouldn’t have believed he was capable of making. Hidden in the folds of that expensive suit, behind the cool exterior, was the determined and passionate man she’d fallen hopelessly in love with. There’d been a glimmer of him just now. But he’d gone again as he’d withdrawn his hand. ‘Now, on to question two.’
‘So? How’s it going?’ Two hours into the assessment Mim leaned against the doorway of the smallest admin room Connor had ever seen and nibbled the corner of her lip. A nervous habit he remembered of old.
In fact, lots of things had him spinning back three years. The scent of her mango body butter smell lingering in every space. The hesitant smile that was slow to blossom but that lit up her face. That pale, creamy thigh he’d glimpsed earlier. The way she looked at him as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.
The one who’d disappeared without trace and left him reeling.
Walking in and seeing her laughing and dancing on the desk—acting pure Mim—had been a body blow. Hard and low.
He’d thought he’d hammered his heart back together with armour plating. He had vowed never to let himself be so vulnerable again. Loving hurt. Losing hurt more.
His latest ex described him as closed. Cold. Clearly his approach had worked well with her. It had always worked for his father too. He was only doing what he’d learnt by parental example. Don’t let anyone in, and you won’t run a risk of being destroyed in the fallout.
But being here with Mim had the plating cracking already. Despite the million promises he’d made to himself. Take a leaf out of Father’s book. Focus on work. Work was easy. Structured, rigid, predictable. With outcomes he could control. Unlike relationships.
And still she hovered. Could she not see how distracting she was being? ‘Early days, Mim. I’m busy here.’
‘Sorry. If you need anything …’
‘I’ll call. This place is so small you’d hear me if I whispered.’ Uncertainty tainted her chocolate-fudge eyes but she didn’t move. He exhaled and tried to keep the exasperation hidden. ‘How desperate are you to pass this assessment, Mim?’
‘I’m not desperate. Not at all.’ Her shoulders went ramrod straight. He remembered her pride and ingrained independence. He’d been on the whipping end of that before. And it stung.
Her pupils dilated. ‘But getting the accreditation will help. I have plans to expand, and I need more rooms, a visiting physio, counsellor, nutritionists.’
‘Okay, we’ll start with the financial reports. I’ll read through them now. Then have a quick chat about budgets and audit.’
‘Ooh, I can’t wait. You really know how to impress a girl.’ She laughed, then edged back a little as if she’d overstepped the mark. Her voice quieted. ‘Sorry. Must be nerves.’
‘You cut your hair.’
Why the hell had he even noticed that? Let alone said it?
She ran a hand over her short bob absent-mindedly. ‘Not that it matters but, yes. A while ago now.’
‘It suits you.’ It was probably a good thing that the long dark curls he’d loved to rake his hands through were gone. No temptation there.
The style made her look older, more mature. And she was thinner. Her watch hung from her wrist. Her misshapen green jumper draped off her frame.
‘You’re looking good yourself. Very executive. A big change from … before.’ She looked away, heat burning her cheeks. Not for the first time today. She was either embarrassed as hell—as she should be—or just plain nervous. Desperate.
She ran a slow finger across her clavicle. Not a sexual gesture, again it was more absent-minded than anything else. He’d swear on it. But his gaze followed the line her finger traced and a video of kissing a path along that dip played in his head.
Damn. He clamped his teeth together to take his mind off her throat. He didn’t want memories burning a hole in his skull.