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  “No. She’ll manage my office while I resolve my business problem.” What was the point of explaining to Sheryl that she’d met her before? All that mattered was having a competent office manager. Jamie rubbed her temple. The headache was spreading.

  “We’re so close to getting it all, Jamie.”

  “We have each other. Isn’t that all we need?”

  “You’re such a romantic.” Sheryl made her sound childish.

  “You won’t be late, will you?”

  “I don’t know. Better not wait up for me.”

  “But…” Jamie heard a woman’s voice in the background. Was it her secretary? She didn’t know any of Sheryl’s staff.

  “Gotta go. Another crisis.”

  “Love you.” Jamie turned on the iPod and “That Voice” filled the room. She ignored the sandwich, her appetite gone. For twenty years she’d done the right things, according to her father’s standards. Why wasn’t she reaping the rewards of all her hard work the way he had? She grabbed the file from the top of the stack and opened it. She’d solved one of her problems by hiring an office manager. Now she had to figure out what Marjorie had done.

  She tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting to Carly. She shook her head, irritated with herself. No, Carla. What were the odds of their paths crossing again? She mouthed the lyrics to one of her favorite songs as the present conceded to the past. So long ago, but she’d never forgotten that weekend—the music festival, the unexpected Melissa concert… Maybe those memories were a good thing, reminding her how far she’d come from that scared new doctor. Ten minutes later a knock on her door brought her back to reality. Time to face an afternoon of patients. She shoved out of her chair. I’m doing my best, Dad.

  *

  Carla clutched the steering wheel tight to stop the trembling in her hands. Had she just agreed to work for the woman who’d been on her mind lately? Sadness replaced the shock. Jamie hadn’t recognized her. She fingered her hair. It wasn’t much different. That night just hadn’t mattered to Jamie the way it had to her. Her heart sank as twenty years worth of fantasies crumbled and left her feeling exposed, and silly. Could she say she’d made a mistake and turn down the job?

  Curiosity wiggled its way into her thoughts. What was Jamie like now? Certainly any lingering feelings would fade in the light of current reality. She’d get this crush out of her system or…if Jamie was single, maybe something would spark between them.

  Two blocks from the office she realized she was going in the wrong direction. She pulled into a parking lot and sat, engine running, air conditioner blowing cold air on her, as she tried to calm her racing thoughts. How was it possible the woman who’d changed her life was now back in her life? Was it fate? Stranger things than this happened in the romantic comedies she loved. She smiled as she pulled back onto the street. Jamie might not recognize her, but anything was possible.

  Chapter Six

  Carla pulled into her driveway. She gripped the steering wheel and let the car idle, her thoughts a muddled mess, her body hot in spite of the air conditioning. She wasn’t tired from her first full day of work in months but…angry. She hadn’t been this angry since her battle last year with the principal who accused Lissa and Steph of flaunting their relationship.

  Why had she thought she could be in close proximity to Jamie for eight hours and survive it? She felt like a hormonal teenager—elated by being close to the woman of her fantasies, then close to tears when she searched Jamie’s face for any inkling of recognition and found only polite professionalism. It had to be fate to have that night and its importance brought up so clearly at this moment in her life, but what kind of fate? Was Jamie single? She still didn’t know. She didn’t wear a ring and she’d heard nothing about a partner. Carla shivered. Jamie single scared her more than Jamie with a partner. Then she’d have to act instead of staying safely tucked in fantasies.

  On the surface it had been an uneventful day. She’d worked the front desk, setting appointments, taking phone calls, and talking with patients; then with Betty on the insurance billing. After she got up to speed on the billing codes specific to chiropractic, this would be a replica of what she’d done for Dr. Rose. Except for the volume, which was mind-boggling. Jamie saw more patients in a day than Dr. Rose had in a week.

  By lunch she’d been ready to jump in her car and not return, sure she couldn’t contain the volcano threatening to erupt and incinerate her manners. Feelings fenced inside the boundaries of memory for twenty years were now free to roam. She’d never reacted this way to any of her female friends, not one of Lissa’s teachers, not a grocery clerk, not the cute woman who walked dogs in her neighborhood. But a day around Jamie and her body had taken off at a full gallop. Being a lesbian in her mind was one thing. The full force of desire ruling her body was another. It took her a minute to realize Mike was tapping his knuckles on the window. She turned off the ignition and stepped out.

  “Are you all right, honey?”

  He seemed surprised when she wrapped her arms around his waist. “What are you doing home? I thought you and Rob were going to a Giants game.”

  “I cancelled. I want to celebrate your new job. Champagne on the patio, and then I’m taking you out to that new Italian restaurant. Hey, why are you crying?”

  “Just…everything,” Carla said wiping away tears. “Don’t mind me. I’m just being silly.” Mike took her hand, and they walked up the flagstone path to the front door like two teenagers on a date.

  “You’re never emotional without a reason. Bad day at work? Boss yell at you? Spilled coffee all over her desk?”

  Carla smiled at his attempt to cheer her up. “Something like that.”

  “Maybe it’s not the right job for you.”

  “Maybe.” Mike led her to the patio, where he’d set two glasses and a bottle of her favorite champagne.

  “This was so sweet. I can’t believe you gave up a date.” Carla sat and kicked off her low-heeled shoes, propping her feet in Mike’s lap. She groaned as he dug his thumbs in.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Can I ask you something personal?”

  Mike poured the champagne. “Is there anything you don’t know about me?”

  Carla took a long sip. The bubbles tickled her throat and the alcohol hit her stomach with a calming thud. “It’s different with Rob. In bed, I mean.”

  Mike choked on his champagne. “How do you mean?”

  “It feels right, doesn’t it? Like in a movie? The music swells and stars paste themselves to the inside of your eyelids?” Carla brushed hair away from his forehead. Who was she without him? Without their marriage?

  “You’re a hopeless romantic. I love Rob differently than I love you, but not more.”

  “I’m not asking for reassurance.” Well, maybe she was—the reassurance it felt right to be in the arms of someone who ignited passion in you.

  “Yes, it feels right sexually. Can I ask you something?”

  “Turnaround?”

  “You think you’re gay because you’ve been attracted to a few women over the years.”

  Carla looked away. Should she tell him about Jamie? He’d understand, but her feelings were so jumbled she couldn’t talk about it right now. And if she quit it would be irrelevant.

  “But how do you know? I mean, don’t you want to have a one-night stand or something? To see what sex with a woman is like?”

  Now it was Carla’s turn to choke on the champagne. “No. I can’t imagine—”

  “I know it’s scary, but you can’t be a lesbian without a girlfriend.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “You won’t want to be. You’re beautiful and smart and the most loving person I know. You need to find someone who gives you all the passion you deserve.”

  “Romance novels make it sound easy.” Carla’s laugh came out choked and she reached for Mike’s hand. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  “You can find gay-oriented groups and activities online. Maybe a b
ook club?”

  “I never thought past getting Lissa off to college and helping you move out.”

  “You’ve always taken care of us. Now you need to focus on you. We have a chance to follow new dreams, honey.” Mike squeezed her hand. “Honest dreams. Not what our parents and upbringing told us we should want. Don’t make me set you up on blind dates.”

  Carla smiled. Would she ever find someone as loving and caring as Mike? Passion had been a small sacrifice over the years.

  Mike’s cell phone rang. “Hi, Lis. Yep, right here.”

  “Hi, sweetie,” Carla said, taking the phone. Her mood lifted at the sound of her daughter’s energetic voice.

  “Steph has a craving for your spaghetti sauce. How do I make it?”

  Carla’s world circled around her as she recited the recipe, reminding Lissa to use fresh marjoram and oregano. “Give Steph a hug for us.” She handed the phone back to Mike. “I hope the reasons for our divorce don’t throw her into a tailspin. For all the books out there on coming out, I’ve never seen one that explains how to come out to your teenaged daughter.”

  “She’ll be fine. We’ll all get through this and be stronger for it. Promise me you’ll think about dating?”

  “Think. That’s all.”

  Mike kissed her on the cheek. “I made reservations for eight. Plenty of time for a hot bath. I’m sure you need one.”

  Carla groaned. The last thing she needed was a bath.

  Chapter Seven

  One day at a time. Carla repeated Mike’s advice as she pulled into the parking lot, 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 about the exercise program you noted in the chart? You don’t bill for that either?”

  “Not usually.”

  “So you’re under-charging the insurance companies.”

  “I don’t look at it like that.” Jamie tried to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. This was one area she and her father had been in complete agreement. “I’m a big believer in getting patients to do even a little exercise because it gets them involved in their healing process. I consider it part of the treatment package I provide.”

  “It’s a lot different than the dentist’s office.” Carla looked at the stack of files on Jamie’s desk.

  “I’m sure the billing system is very different.”

  “Yes, that, but I meant what you do. I’ve never been to a chiropractor so it’s all a little mysterious. Several of your patients tried to describe how it works, but each one had a different explanation.”

  Jamie leaned back in the chair. She always expected it to gently cradle her, but it felt stiff and unyielding. “Some people want me to pin down an exact scientific explanation of how chiropractic works. But you can’t pin down healing. So I give them the basics of what a subluxation is, how it affects their health, and how adjusting joints helps relieve their pain.”

  “Sounds like Greek to me.”

  “Why don’t you shadow me this morning since Betty won’t be in. You need to be able to answer patients’ questions about what we do.” She wasn’t thrilled by the idea of having Carla in close proximity all morning, but it was true Carla needed to know what she did.

  “I’d love to,” Carla said. “I mean, it’s probably a good idea for me to know what goes on in the treatment rooms. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

  Jamie rubbed her face. There was always some awkwardness with a new employee, but the employee wasn’t usually someone she’d slept with, and memories cropped up unexpectedly. Like when Carla had pulled her sweater around her shoulders. She was competent and catching on quickly, according to Betty. Patients liked Carla. Her staff liked Carla. If she was honest with herself, she liked Carla. But it was hard to have a past she’d so thoroughly left behind invade her present. And she still nurtured that pang of anger at being used and left.

  *

  Carla stood stiffly in the corner of the treatment room, unsure what to do with her arms. Folding them across her stomach seemed unfriendly, yet letting them hang at her sides felt awkward. She clasped them behind her back, but that didn’t dissipate the uneasy intimacy of the small room. Three steps and she could be in Jamie’s arms.

  Carla cringed when the middle-aged woman yelped in pain as Jamie helped her lie facedown on the dark-brown
adjusting table. The woman had needed help walking to the treatment room. Carla grimaced, hoping she was never in the same position.

  “I know it hurts, Priscilla, but I promise the pain isn’t permanent.” Everything about Jamie’s movements spoke of confidence. The white Oxford shirt was snug over shoulders that were still broad. She laid her hands on the woman’s back, and Carla wondered what they would feel like on her body now. A shiver went through her and she crossed her arms.

  “But I saw the doctor yesterday and he gave me pills and said it would be a couple weeks before the pain went away.”

  “I have a different approach than your medical doctor,” Jamie said, her hands still moving over the woman’s back.

  “We’re supposed to leave on a cruise next week.” Priscilla’s voice broke. “I haven’t had a vacation in two years.”

  “Let’s see how you do in the next few days. Now I know you’ve never been to a chiropractor—”

  “Is it going to hurt? My husband swears by you, but I’m afraid of that cracking sound.”

  “It might hurt a little when I do the adjustment.”

  Priscilla’s head popped up from the headpiece.

  “It won’t hurt more than it already does. I’m going to adjust you using a drop table. You won’t hear a cracking sound.” Jamie wrote something in the file on the small counter against the wall. “You’ll feel me press on your back, and part of the table will drop away under you. Now take a breath and let it out slowly.”

  Jamie adjusted something on the table and then settled her hands on the woman’s back. The movement was so fast Carla almost missed it. A quick thrust and the sound of the table as the section below the woman’s abdomen dropped. Jamie’s hands never left Priscilla’s back, and she continued to work her fingers over the muscles.

  “Okay?”

  “That wasn’t so bad.” Priscilla sounded less frightened.