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?
‘A letter came this morning.’ Glenda handed it over, oddly hesitant.
Anna scanned it, blinked, scanned it again and then her temper exploded. ‘Where is he?’
Glenda flinched. ‘If you mean Dr McKenna, he’s just parked his car and he’s walking through the doors as we speak. But, Anna—’
Anna whirled round, lights flashing in her brain as she came face to face with him. ‘Of all the miserable, vile, small-minded b—’
‘We’ve got an audience, Riggs,’ Sam interrupted her, an answering flash of anger in his blue eyes as he faced her head on. ‘You might want to hold onto that temper of yours.’
‘I don’t care who hears this.’ She tossed her hair back, her gaze furious as she waved the letter under his nose. ‘You were supposed to offer him the job, McKenna. You were supposed to tell him that he was the one.’
‘He wasn’t the one.’ Sam tried to step past her, a muscle flickering in his jaw. ‘I didn’t think he was the right person for the job.’
‘Well, I did!’
He turned on her. ‘I’m well aware of that.’ He growled the words like a man goaded to the extremes of his tolerance. ‘You made it perfectly clear how much you liked him.’