Free Georgie's Heart by Kathryn Brocato

and her instant need for a job after her divorce.
    As he had hoped, she described a happy childhood — up until the day both her parents had died in a car wreck and she went to live with her father’s brother. She glossed over that by asking Zane about his career in medicine.
    Zane was conscious for once that the woman he was telling his life story to was really interested. He had never told anyone about the incident that led him into pediatrics, but he found himself telling Georgeanne.
    â€œIt was a case like the ones that inspired Dr. Baghri to open his Saturday Children’s Clinic.” He wondered if he could drown in Georgeanne’s velvety eyes. “A couple brought an unconscious little boy, who was in a deep diabetic coma, into the Emergency Room one night. When I finally got him stabilized and went out to lecture his parents about why they had waited so long to see a doctor, I discovered they were hard-working people with no insurance who couldn’t afford regular doctor visits. I learned a lot that night about pride and compassion.”
    â€œThose are the people Dr. Baghri wants to help.” Georgeanne’s voice quivered with emotion. “They can afford the twenty dollars at the Saturday Clinic, and their pride isn’t attacked.”
    Zane nodded. He wondered if Georgeanne knew how beautiful she was when emotion animated her face. “The people who need help these days are those caught in the middle.”
    â€œAre you still treating the boy?” Georgeanne asked.
    â€œOf course.” Zane laughed at her expectant attitude. “I charge twenty dollars a visit, which covers a supply of insulin and syringes and his checkup.”
    Georgeanne lowered her gaze to her plate, smiling.
    â€œThat’s why I’ll never be a particularly rich doctor. But you don’t care about that, do you?” He stared at Georgeanne and wondered how she was going to react when he kissed her. Because he was going to, very soon now, and he was already looking forward to it tremendously.
    Georgeanne laughed. “I’ll never be a particularly rich secretary-receptionist, and for much the same reason.”
    â€œAccording to Dr. Gant, you could have taken a much higher paying job last year with an advertising agency in Beaumont.” Zane wondered why Georgeanne’s expressive face whitened suddenly. “Why didn’t you?”
    â€œI didn’t want that long drive every day,” she said. “Also, I prefer lower-stress work.”
    â€œI see.” He thought he did. Georgeanne was the kind of woman who valued working with friends and with the patients she’d gotten to know. “You don’t consider the extra work you’re doing for Dr. Baghri’s clinic stress?”
    â€œDr. Baghri’s clinic is a lot of fun.” Georgeanne contemplated the dessert menu a moment. “My idea of stress is a flu or measles epidemic. Besides, if I’d taken the advertising job, I wouldn’t have been in on Dr. Baghri’s Saturday Clinic. I’ve never enjoyed anything so much.”
    â€œAnd I’d never have met you.” Zane willed her to believe him. “Do you believe in destiny, Georgie?”
    She looked at him, then away. “I’m not sure. There are so many meanings that can be attached to that word.”
    He leaned forward, shoving his plate aside. “Do you believe there’s a man out there for you? One created especially for you?”
    â€œHeavens, Zane.” Georgeanne’s lashes fluttered uncertainly. “What a question.” She thought a moment. “At one time, I did believe that, but now, I’m not sure. I think the proverb: ‘Love isn’t so much about finding the right person as it is being the right person’ is more likely to result in true happiness.”
    Right there, under his watchful eyes, Georgeanne swallowed and looked away. Zane wondered what on earth had crossed her