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If she did more ‘girly stuff’ then he probably wouldn’t be leaving.
Anger and frustration burst free inside her. ‘I’m crying because I hate you. I hate you, McKenna.’ She sniffed loudly and scrubbed the tears away with the back of her hand. ‘I really hate you for making me feel this way.’
His hands were still by his sides but she noticed that his fists were clenched. ‘What way?’
‘Angry.’ She blew her nose hard. ‘And—and—as if I could strangle you with my bare hands. And sad.’ Her eyes filled again. ‘You make me sad.’
He was looking at her in horror. ‘Sad?’
‘Yes, sad. Because what we had was good and it couldn’t last.’ She blinked and sniffed again. ‘Oh, damn. This is all so stupid. It’s fine. I’m fine. The sooner you go, the better. At least I get to run this practice in peace, without your input. Your ideas never work anyway, McKenna. You’re always wrong.’
‘I’m never wrong.’ He frowned and raked long fingers through his hair. ‘And my ideas always work. Which one didn’t work? Name one that didn’t work.’
She dropped the tissue in the bin and swallowed, back in control. She could do this. She could watch him walk away and she could carry on her life without him. ‘Well, the teenage clinic, for one. We’ve got the entire village youth congregating here every Friday. It’s a nightmare.’
He folded his arms across his chest and looked smug. ‘So, in other words, I was right and you were wrong. I said people would come.’
‘You were not right. Half of them don’t even bother talking to the doctor or the practice nurse. We’re not supposed to be running a youth club.’
‘But they have the chance to talk to someone if they want to. And don’t underestimate the power of peer pressure. If a few of them are talking to the doctor, the others will. Admit it. I was right.’
‘They’ll stop coming as soon as winter sets in.’
‘They won’t stop coming.’
She glared at him again. ‘Well, you don’t care anyway. You won’t be here to see it. You’ll be back in your fancy television studio, advising people on ingrowing toenails.’ Except that wasn’t what he did. She knew that now. ‘I’m going to ring that guy, that Dr Hampton, and offer him the job.’
‘I’ll do it.’ He held out his hand and took the details from her. ‘That way I can co-ordinate dates with him.’
She felt the tears start again and bit them back. ‘Fine. Just as long as someone is here to do the work.’
‘Fine. I’ll arrange it.’
* * *
Sam stared at the details of the doctor.
Anna liked him.
The thought made him want to smash his fist into something.
And he was about to offer him the job. Once he picked up that phone, this guy would become a GP in a village practice. He would surf in the evenings and at the weekends, he’d eat Hilda’s beautiful seafood dishes and lemon tart and he’d join the lifeboat crew for drinks on the quay. He’d walk the cliffs, run on the sand and sail yachts. But most of all he’d work alongside Anna. They’d make decisions together, develop the practice together, plan for their patients.
Would they sleep together?
Sam’s fingers tightened on the pen he was holding and he reached for the phone.
He’d better get it over with.
* * *
‘There’s a trailer for Sam’s new series this afternoon. I’ve set the TV and video in the coffee-room,’ Glenda said happily as Anna handed her a pile of forms. ‘He and Polly have been thick as thieves all day.’
Anna gritted her teeth.
She shouldn’t mind. It shouldn’t matter to her. She and Sam were over.
‘Have you heard anything from Dr Hampton?’ She was surprised that he hadn’t been in touch with her. It was all very well for Sam to have confirmed all the details, but surely the man would still want to contact her?
