Never Too Late by Julie Blair

was treating patients, tying the red ties that were his trademark, or building this clinic. What would be the right way, Dad, to solve this problem? She startled when a voice said, “Good morning.”
    Sara Michaels, her other associate doctor, stood shoulder to shoulder with Don in her doorway. He was lanky and blond, Sara almost his comedy-duo opposite, short and dark-haired and solidly built from years of weight lifting.
    “We wanted to catch you before you got busy,” Sara said as they approached Jamie’s desk.
    “What’s up?” Both had their hands in their pockets, like nervous kids approaching the principal.
    “We want to help,” Sara said. “You’re coming in early, staying late, interviewing during your lunch.”
    “It’s not—”
    “Our problem. We know,” Don said, his deep voice at odds with his build. “We worked with Marjorie, too. We should have noticed something was off.”
    “We can go through files,” Sara said. “Or let us take some of your patient load.”
    “I appreciate the offer.” Jamie stood and cupped Sara’s elbow, walking her to the door. “But it’s easier for me to deal with this myself.”
    “At least let one of us adjust you every week. You’re tired and stressed, two causes for subluxations and tight muscles.”
    “You sound like a textbook, Don. I’ll make sure I stay healthy.”
    Sara stepped into the hallway and then turned back toward Jamie. “Sometimes we can’t solve our own problems. Isn’t that what we do for our patients?”
    “It’s not the same thing.” It was her job to take care of her staff, not the other way around.
    “Remember when I strained my rotator cuff but I kept working out, and it just got worse until it hurt to adjust patients? And you worked on my shoulder but also chewed me out for ignoring the pain? Please let us help.”
    “I’ll think about it,” Jamie said. Returning to her desk she took a sip of coffee. It was terrible, but she hadn’t had time to go by Peet’s for more Kona. One of the songs from the concert was playing, and her eyes fell on Penni’s picture. She’d brought it in one day and plunked it down next to the one of her father “He’s gone, but I’ll always be here for you.” Jamie stared at the blue eyes full of mischief. Penni’s arm was draped over her shoulder, their hair blown back, the ocean in the background. They’d escaped for a day of goofing around at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. “Yeah, I know. You agree with them,” she murmured.
    “Don’t schedule anyone during your lunch,” Betty said when Jamie popped her head in her office to say good morning. “You have an interview.” Her eyes sparkled as she smiled. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up on Friday when I got her resume. I talked to her Saturday on the phone, and I like her. She ran a dentist’s office and has a great phone voice.”
    “Sounds promising.”
    “I don’t know how much longer I can hold Frank off. He threatened to pick me up after work on Friday and hold me hostage until we get to Oregon.”
    “Tell Frank one way or the other he’ll have you back in two weeks,” Jamie said. She needed to be realistic and lower her standards. If this woman was even moderately qualified she was going to get the job.
    “Renee Rapp referred her,” Betty whispered, as if afraid to jinx it.
    Jamie perked up. “Then I’ll risk being optimistic.”
    By the time Jamie settled down to the sandwich and iced tea Betty left for her, she was almost giddy that one of her problems might be solved before her lunch hour was up. She read the resume. It looked impressive, and Renee’s judgment was impeccable.
    Hearing a knock at her door, Jamie set the sandwich aside and rolled down the cuffs on her blue Oxford shirt, then moved to greet the woman she hoped would be her new office manager. Betty ushered in a well-dressed woman in an ivory linen suit with shoulder-length golden-blond hair. Jamie’s mouth went dry, and her skin felt as hot as