A Doctor To Heal Her Heart. Annie Claydon

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      She nodded, smiling. ‘I see you’ve grown since then. You’re operating from two locations now, this office deals with admin and public awareness, and there’s a separate clinic, where you work directly with your clients. You’re practical in your approach, providing both medical and social support for drug abusers and for their families. Your community-based approach has had a lot of praise from both drugs agencies and local healthcare providers—’

      David cut her short with a chuckle. ‘I doubt you got all of that from our website.’

      ‘No, I didn’t. Your website could do with an overhaul. You have good information on there but it’s not organised to make it easy to find. I imagine that’s not helping the public awareness side of your operation.’

      She was well informed, astute and honest. And beautiful. Like a siren on the shore, calling to lost sailors... Euan put the thought out of his head, telling himself that he was neither lost nor was he a sailor.

      ‘You have a point.’ David glanced at Euan and he nodded dutifully. ‘We’re thinking of doing something with it, aren’t we?’

      ‘Yeah.’ Euan hadn’t been aware that he was thinking any such thing, but this was David’s department. His was primarily medical care, and he was still to be convinced that a computer program had anything to offer in that context.

      ‘Perhaps we should start by looking at the program.’ Sam Lockyear had effortlessly taken control of the meeting now. ‘I’m sure you’ll have some questions for me.’

      ‘Yes...’ David reached for his notes.

      ‘I hope that the software will answer some of those. I think it speaks for itself.’ She leaned forward, proffering the tablets with a smile.

      ‘That’s what we’re hoping.’ It was impossible not to be drawn in by her smile and suddenly, almost against his will, Euan wanted her attention. When he got it, it jolted him into a new level of wakefulness. The kind where every nerve tingled at the slightest touch.

      ‘Then we’re off to a good start.’ Her grey eyes held just the right amount of quiet humour, trapping his gaze for an endless moment, before she turned her attention to her laptop. He almost sighed with relief when she pressed a couple of keys and the tablet in front of him flashed into life.

      Neat. David had dragged him along to a few of these software demos, and they usually involved a data projector and a lot of pointing at the wall. She had this down to a fine art. He ran his finger tentatively across the screen and tapped. Another screen flashed up in front of him.

      She gifted him with a look of gentle reproach. Euan wondered how she would look with her hair spilling around her shoulders, instead of tied up in a dark gleaming knot at the back of her head.

      ‘You can play with it in a moment. Let me take you through the basics first.’

      ‘Right. Sorry.’ He was grinning like an idiot and Euan composed his face into a look of stern assessment. He and David had a business decision to make, and however mesmerising Sam Lockyear was the software was the only thing that mattered.

      The software was just as impressive as she was. She’d paid attention to the list of requirements that David had sent and had set the program up to demonstrate how it could meet their needs. By the time Maya brought in the sandwiches and a pot of coffee, David was clearly already sold.

      ‘I’d like to see the reporting module.’ David received a plate from Maya and left it undisturbed in front of him. ‘It’s essential for us to be able to report back to our funders on the various projects we have under way. Many of them have specific questions concerning targets and outcomes, and whether or not we receive ongoing funding depends on our answers.’

      ‘Ah.’ She leaned forward slightly, a look of unreserved happiness on her face, as if she had a real treat up her sleeve somewhere. Maya put a cup of coffee and a plate in front of her, and she flashed her a smile. ‘Thanks...Maya.’

      ‘You’re welcome.’ Maya pushed the plate of sandwiches towards her, clearly deciding that Sam deserved preferential treatment and that Euan and David could fend for themselves, then slid from the room.

      ‘Mmm. These look nice.’ Her hand hovered over the sandwiches and she selected a few, pushing the plate back towards David. The tricky balance between eating a sandwich, drinking coffee and typing was accomplished effortlessly, and she demonstrated how questions and keywords could be entered onto the system and individual reports generated for each funding body.

      ‘Good. Very good.’ David was obviously impressed. ‘Euan, have you any questions?’ He was already glancing at the agenda in front of him, clearly expecting the answer to be no.

      ‘Yeah. I do have a couple...’

      * * *

      In meetings like this it was necessary to know what you were up against, and Sam had already made her decision about the directors of the Driftwood Drugs Initiative. David Watson was the organiser, the one who kept things running. Dr Euan Scott was the wildcard. Unpredictable, not yet convinced, and clearly capable of coming up with a few tricky questions and off-the-wall suggestions.

      She focussed on his face, making herself look at him. ‘Fire away, then.’

      He leaned back in his seat, his brow furrowed in thought. Euan Scott was one of a kind. Handsome certainly. But even if she hadn’t researched his career before coming here and been duly impressed by his qualifications and achievements, she would have known there was a lot more to him than surfer-blond hair and a tan. Behind his caramel-coloured eyes there was a cauldron of thought and emotion, none of which she could quite interpret.

      Sam applied a mental slap to the back of her own head, trying to steady herself. Don’t let him draw you in. It’s going well, don’t blow it now.

      ‘The program’s not being used by anyone else yet?’

      His first stab, and he’d instantly found her Achilles’ heel. ‘No, not yet. I’m looking for someone who’ll take that challenge on.’ Sam paused, wondering whether that had been the right thing to say. Of course it was. The curl of his lips told her that this guy just loved a challenge.

      ‘And you think that’s us?’

      She leant forward slightly, narrowing her eyes. Six years ago, when she and Sally had first ventured out together to sell their software, Sam had been awkward and terrified. Sal had taught her all the little tricks and techniques, when to hold back and when to be candid, and the two of them had been a great team. But even Sal’s wisdom couldn’t help her now. Imagining Euan Scott naked was not going to calm her down.

      ‘This is the deal. New software, particularly third-sector software, isn’t easy to get off the ground. Not many people want to stick their necks out and be the first to use a program that has no demonstrable track record, however good it is. I need an organisation that’s forward looking enough to try something new, and in return I’m willing to work with you to make sure that the software meets your needs.’

      ‘Bit of a catch-22 situation, really.’ He ran his hand through his short-cropped hair, although whether it was to smooth it or create further disarray she wasn’t sure.

      ‘No more than the one you’re already in. I’ve done some research and you fit the profile for the kind of organisation I want as clients. You’re small, innovative and successful, and you’re looking to expand. A good software system will help facilitate that, but I’m guessing you don’t have a lot of spare cash to spend on it.’ She took a breath. Her profile stipulated a drugs charity as well, but they didn’t need to know that.

      He nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. ‘I imagine there’ll be some surprises along the way.’

      ‘I’m hoping we’ll be able to learn from each other. That always involves an element of surprise, doesn’t it?’ She gave a small shrug to indicate that the question was a rhetorical one, even though she wasn’t very confident about the notion. Sam