It was said with obvious sincerity and Jo felt her heart warm again. She managed a fleeting smile. ‘I wouldn’t either. Ah…’ She pointed ahead. ‘That’s my car at the end, the white hatchback.’
Brady looked at the gleaming paintwork and grinned. ‘Been through the carwash for the occasion, has it?’
‘Something like that. But by this time tomorrow it’s bound to be nice and dusty again,’ she predicted ruefully.
Brady’s dark brows peaked. ‘You don’t work here in the city, then?’
‘Haven’t for ages. I love my relatively quiet existence in a country practice. What about you?’
Brady released her hand abruptly as they came to a halt beside her car. ‘For the moment I’m staying with my parents at Bardon. Taking off to a new job shortly.’
‘Well, good luck, then.’ Hurriedly, Jo delved into her bag again for her keys. Unlocking the door of the car, she stood back for a second. ‘It was…nice meeting you, Brady,’ she said, a bit stiltedly.
‘You, too.’ He stretched in front of her to open the door of the car. His shoulder nudged her arm and the side of her breast before she could step out of the way.
‘Thanks.’ Jo’s thoughts were in wild disarray as she slid into the driver’s seat. Suddenly, everything that was male about Brady had assailed her. Everything from the clean crisp smell of apple-scented laundry softener on his shirt to the subtle male aftershave on his jaw as he’d swooped across her to open the door. ‘Take care, then,’ she said from behind the safe haven of her wound-down window.
‘And you.’ Brady sketched a casual salute, before turning away.
Jo watched as Brady loped back along the row of parked cars and then dodged through the line, obviously to collect his own vehicle.
What was it all about? She gnawed her lip thoughtfully. Perhaps they’d meet up again one day. After all, they had friends in common. The thought wasn’t too far-fetched. Jo shivered involuntarily and admitted she would have liked the chance to get to know Brady McNeal better. A whole lot better.
* * *
He should have asked for her phone number. Brady started the engine of his car and shot towards the exit sign. He huffed a self-deprecating laugh. Hell, he didn’t even know her surname. But Sophie would. His heart somersaulted.
Was he ready for even the most tenuous kind of relationship, though? But in terms of area, Queensland was a vast state. For all he knew, Jo’s country practice could be at the opposite end of the state from where he was going. But they could always email. Relationships had been sustained by much less personal contact. His hopes rose briefly and then flagged. Best forget it. Forget Jo with the tiny freckles across her nose and the very sweet way she smiled.
Get real, he admonished himself silently. What woman in her right mind would want you and your baggage, McNeal?
* * *
The morning at Mt Pryde Medical Centre began to unfold like a typical Monday. Even before Jo had time to stow her case and switch on her computer, Angelo Kouras, one of the partners, poked his head in.
‘Welcome back, stranger. Nice holiday?’
‘The best.’ Jo’s parents ran a bed and breakfast in North Queensland and it was her idea of the perfect holiday; with her mother’s fabulous cooking, her dad’s extensive wine cellar and nothing to do but swim and snorkel, day in and day out.
‘Good trip back?’
‘No dramas. What about here?’
‘A few, but we handled them.’ Angelo tilted a wry smile. ‘Ah, staff meeting at one o’clock, Jo. I’ve asked Monica to cater lunch. We’ve serious business to discuss.’
Jo frowned. Was a patient about to sue? Or were they simply running out of funding? ‘What’s up?’
Angelo came in and closed the door. ‘Ralph’s decided to retire.’
‘What—just like that?’
‘Said he’s been thinking about it for a while. And Lilian’s keen to relocate to Brisbane to be near the grandchildren apparently.’
Jo’s mind began racing. She hated these kinds of changes. They’d have to advertise for a new partner, cull the applicants, make a short-list, interview…She clicked her tongue. ‘I’ve only been out of the place for a month and all this happens.’
Angelo parked himself on the corner of her desk. ‘Ralph dropped his bombshell on Tom and me the day after you’d left on holidays. So at least we’ve had a bit of time to get cracking. Got some ads in pronto.’
‘Any luck?’
‘Six replies. We knocked it down to a short-list of three and selected someone. Sorry, you weren’t here for the interviews but I think you’ll be happy with our choice. He’s been working in rural medicine in Canada for the past couple of years. Seemed to latch on pretty quickly to what we wanted here. And he wants to put down roots.’ Angelo grinned. ‘And the best part is he’s had experience in anaesthetics, which will no doubt please Pen.’
Jo nodded. Angelo’s wife, Penny, was the sole fully qualified anaesthetist at the local hospital and was constantly on call. Still, Jo felt slightly miffed that they’d gone ahead and made the selection without her. Her chin came up in query. ‘Does this paragon have a name?’
‘Brady McNeal. He trained at the Prince Alfred in Melbourne. Excellent CV.’
Jo felt the wind knocked out of her, dropping into her chair as though her strings had been cut. ‘Brady McNeal’s coming to work here?’
Angelo’s dark eyes blinked a bit behind his steel-framed spectacles. ‘Well…yes. Is there a problem?’
Make it a thousand. Jo’s thoughts were spinning. ‘It’s just odd, that’s all.’ She gave a jagged laugh. ‘I actually met Dr McNeal at my friend’s wedding on Saturday. He was the best man.’
‘You’re kidding!’ Angelo’s head rocked back in disbelief. ‘And he didn’t mention his appointment to Mt Pryde at all?’
Jo made a gesture with the palm of her hand. ‘I spoke to him only briefly after the wedding. We’d left our cars at the same parking station and walked along together.’
‘Odd he didn’t make the connection, though. I mean, he was made aware Josephine Rutherford was our female member of the practice.’
Except she’d introduced herself merely as Jo.
‘And we certainly made a point of telling him you’d have been at his interview, except you were on leave,’ Angelo went on.
Jo switched her gaze from Angelo’s puzzled face to her framed medical certificate on the wall behind him. ‘I don’t think I used my surname.’
‘Ah, that would explain it.’ Angelo looked relieved.
‘So, when is Dr McNeal joining us?’
‘Officially next Monday. But he’ll be here today to sign a contract with us and I believe he wants to organise a child-minder for his son.’ Angelo slid to his feet. ‘I know you have an interest in paeds and you’re up to date with the child-care facilities in the town, so I told him you’d be the best person to help him with that,’ he added ingenuously.
So the man was obviously married. Jo pushed back a sick kind of resentment. He certainly hadn’t acted married—giving her all that attention in the car park. Holding her hand, for heaven’s sake! Yet she wouldn’t have put him down as a sleaze either.
It was puzzling and