Her fiancé used to tease her about her lack of a social life too. Maybe that was another part of why he’d dumped her. If anything, she owed some of her seriousness to her mom, who’d raised her all by herself after Carly’s dad died, working hard to make sure her daughter had everything she needed. It was something she didn’t take for granted.
But that didn’t mean Carly didn’t know how to have fun. She tipped her chin up. Hadn’t she said she wanted to shake things up? Well, maybe now was the time. She could start doing things differently.
“Just because you haven’t been lucky enough to see me in the dress doesn’t mean I haven’t worn it.”
You haven’t, Carly.
“I never said you haven’t worn it. But you’re right in that I wasn’t lucky enough to see you in it.”
Oh, perfect. Now she’d come across as conceited. “Maybe some other time. Now if you’ll excuse me...”
She waited for a moment, but he didn’t move. He wasn’t exactly blocking her path, but since the door behind her had already swung closed she would need to sidestep to make it around him.
“Do you have a few minutes? I was actually going to try to catch you at the clinic. I’d like to discuss some changes for the community midwife program we’re putting into place.”
Accent or no accent, she found herself bristling. “The women in that community need access to what we can—”
“Relax. I’m not taking anything away. I was here at the main hospital asking for additional funding for the program. It was approved. We’re adding two mobile ultrasound machines. But we’ll either need additional technicians or a few midwives at the clinic to be certified in their use.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest. She’d put in a request last year for portable machines, but never dreamed...
She took a careful breath. Then another. Trying not to let her thoughts run away with her, although that was almost impossible with him standing so close. Looking so devastatingly handsome. She did her best to force back those thoughts. “I would like to be in on that training.”
“I thought you might. So I hoped we might talk over tea. Does the request seem more attractive now?”
Yes. And it wasn’t just the request that looked more attractive. How did he do that? No wonder he had a reputation.
“Okay. Can I meet you in the canteen after I take my dress to the car?”
“Of course. I’ll see you there.”
Five minutes later, her shaky hands free of everything except for her purse, she headed toward the canteen. She wished she felt a little more centered—a little more in control of her emotions. Crashing into him must have shaken her more than she realized, because as soon as he was out of sight, muscles that she hadn’t realized were balled up tight went limp. So much so that she’d had to stop and lean against a wall for a few seconds to steady her legs.
But portable ultrasounds. He had no idea how much she’d wanted them—how much they would help everyone involved with the program. Or maybe he did, since he’d requested the funds.
They would no longer have to ask patients with issues to come into the clinic to have the imaging done. Some of her patients didn’t trust government institutions, even hospitals, and were wary of such requests.
Reaching the canteen, she quickly spotted him at a table in the corner and took a deep breath, before giving him a cheerful wave and heading up to get some coffee. When she was stressed or nervous, her American roots came out, and she opted for that dark bitter brew her mom drank. Dumping a measure of powdered creamer into the coffee, she went to join Adem.
As soon as she dropped into the chair, he poured something from a little silver pot into a teacup. It was very black, almost thick looking. There were no tea bags anywhere. “Is that coffee?”
He glanced up. “Yes. Turkish style. I grind the beans at home and normally brew it in my office. Today, I had to make do with an electric kettle. I see you’re not drinking English tea either.”
No, and she didn’t really want to go into the reasons why. “I guess my heritage comes through sometimes too.”
“Your mum teaches music at the International University?”
She hesitated and wasn’t sure why. “Yes, she does. It’s how I came to be in London years ago. When it came time to choose whether to continue my education here or in the States, I decided to stay near my mom.”
“Same here. My parents moved to the central part of Hackney when I was in high school. My father owns a restaurant not too far from the clinic.” Adem smiled. “I think he wanted me to take it over when I grew up. Luckily my brother showed a lot more promise in that area than I did.”
“No sisters?”
“Nope, just me and my brother.” His voice tightened slightly. “You?”
“Only child. Just me and my mom actually.” She glanced at him. “My dad was an archaeologist, but he died while on a dig when I was ten.”
“That must have been tough.”
She smiled, her nerves finally beginning to settle a bit. “It was. But I have good memories of him.” She’d been a tomboy growing up and had loved digging around in the garden pretending to find old bones and carefully cleaning them with a brush.
“You didn’t want to become an archaeologist?”
“No. I thought about it, but my mom had complications during a pregnancy when I was young and lost the baby. She was never able to have another one. So, I guess it awoke an interest in prenatal health and delivery.” That interest had become bittersweet as she wrestled with her own fertility issues.
“I’m sorry. About your mum, not your interest in babies.”
Babies.
The way he’d said that word sent a shiver through her. She hadn’t said she was interested in children. But he obviously hadn’t meant it the way she’d taken it. There was no way he could know about her struggles. She decided to clarify, just in case.
“I’m interested in the moms and their babies.”
He took a sip of his coffee, regarding her over the rim of the cup for a few seconds with those dark-lashed eyes of his. “That is what I meant, of course.”
This time, the ripple of awareness had nothing to do with children and everything to do with the man himself. Oh, Lord, what was wrong with her?
“Of course.” She decided to change the subject to something less sticky. “So we’re getting portable ultrasounds. What’s the certification process?”
“I looked into it when I put in the request. If I understood correctly, if you have a nursing degree—which you’re listed as having—you’ll need to do a year-long course. For midwives without that, it would probably take two years. Another option is to schedule the use of one of the machines in the field and request that a tech accompany you to the appointment.”
That would work. “Will we have enough techs to go around?”
“That’s where having extra staff would help.”
“Frieda is a tech here at the hospital. We’re friends. She might even donate an extra hour or two a week like some of us who already work at the clinic.”
Adem set down his cup, hands resting on the table. His head tilted. “You’re donating hours?”
Uh-oh. He didn’t sound happy about that. “Is that a problem?”
“I’m just not sure why you would.”
She was right. He wasn’t thrilled. “The Queen Victoria