Page 112 of Sex Positive

Sitting in the conference room in the Archwood student union that students can book for group meetings and study sessions, Charlie glares at the screen, arms crossed over her chest, not bothering to act professional.

Victoria, seated beside her in a periwinkle shift dress and a gray blazer, smiles warmly at Gabriel’s smug face. “I cannot thank you enough for meeting with us today. Your offer to invest in The Wild Rue is beyond anything I could have imagined, especially in light of what happened recently.”

Gabriel nods in understanding. “Yes, the fire was very unfortunate, but I’m glad it led us to this.”

Charlie rolls her eyes, failing to hide her irritated sigh. Victoria flashes her a perplexed look.

She should be ecstatic, over the moon with joy at the prospect of not having to worry about the clinic failing. But she absolutely hates the idea of being associated with Gabriel Quinn in any way, leaving the victory hollow.

In the five days since Wes told her his intentions, she’s seen him twice—once for tutoring, and another time for dinner, during which she argued against his plan and he told her it was already done.

The next day, Victoria called her, alerting her to the meeting with Gabriel and asking if she knew of a place they could meet since the clinic was out of commission.

Gabriel continues blathering about plans for remodeling the clinic, and Charlie wants to throw the laptop across the room. She can’t believe she ever thought he and Wes looked similar. His smarmy face is nothing like his son’s, whose softness shines through so beautifully.

“Now, I have a few suggestions for cutting costs. I went through the information you provided about employee salaries, clinic services, and weekly schedules, and I noted a few things.” He flips some pages on his desk. “You have one medical assistant per clinician, but on days you provide abortions, you have two. Why is that?”

“We like to have one sit with the patient in case they don’t have a friend or family member with them,” Victoria explains. “The other one works with our registered nurse in the recovery room where our patients rest after receiving sedation.”

“Is that necessary?” Gabriel rests his chin on his fist. “Could one medical assistant do both roles?”

Victoria frowns slightly. “Research suggests that having someone with the patient before and after the procedure helps with both emotional and physical support. I also don’t want to stretch my staff too thin, and performing both roles could do that.”

Gabriel nods. “Certainly. Well, we can discuss that at a later date, I suppose.”

Charlie clenches her teeth, digging her nails into her arm to distract herself from her rising anger. She releases a slow breath through her nose. Of course, she’s not surprised that Gabriel Quinn—amanwith no medical degree—is trying to tell Victoria how to run her clinic.

“Is it imperative to provide abortions two days a week? Could you do one day with longer hours?”

“We like to make sure there is enough time for the clinician to see each patient without feeling rushed. Patient safety is also very important, especially with sensitive matters like procedural abortions,” Victoria says. Hearing the slight hesitation in her voice, Charlie glances at her and sees that she’s frowning.

“Of course.” Gabriel smiles placatingly. “The patients’ safety is always of the utmost concern.”

Charlie’s blood boils, ire sparking in her veins. Victoria built this clinic from the ground up. She created a place for people to come when they need help, when they feel they can’t go elsewhere for fear of judgment or lack of respect. Does Gabriel Quinn seriously think he can change how things are done? Does he really think he can undermine all that Victoria has built at The Wild Rue?

Gabriel flips the page. “I see that there’s a budget allotted for the Advocacy and Outreach Committee.”

Charlie sits up, bile rising in her throat.

“A large part of that seems to be set aside for the sex education program, but since that doesn’t commence until the fall, would you consider reallocating those funds to other resources?”

When Victoria looks at her, Charlie sees her shock mirrored back at her.

“That money has been instrumental in helping Charlie create her program.” Victoria frowns. “She and her team need those funds to prepare documents and lesson plans leading up to the start of the program in September.”

Charlie spent her entire childhood feeling like she was never good enough, like her opinion didn’t matter. It took leaving her hometown for college for her to untangle the threads of shame and expectation that her parents—namely her mother—thrust upon her by raising her to do what she was told and remain whole and pure.

Whatever that means.

Eventually, she found her voice, chose a different path, and learned to be okay with her decisions even when her parents disapproved. She wants to make sure other people who grew up like her can find their voices and make their own decisions as well. That’s a core part of her program. It’s why she’s worked so hard these last few months to ensure the expo is nothing less than a roaring success.

She trusted herself enough to risk doing something that would change her life. She didn’t know Theo would agree to the podcast, but he did. She didn’t know it would be a success, but it was.

After everything she’s worked for, everything she’s accomplished, why doesn’t she trust herself enough to know she can do this on her own?

Before she can second-guess herself, she clicks the screen to mute their side of the conversation, then jabs the volume button, silencing Gabriel.

Victoria gapes. “Charlie! What are you—”