Twenty minutes later, I’ve done the minimum to justify disappearing.
The administrative department is foreign territory. White, pristine walls and plush carpeting replace the scuffed tiles and antiseptic smell of the surgical wing. I pace outside the frosted glass doors, my reflection warped and shifting in the glass.
I just need to ask. They can’t keep this from the medical staff. Not if it affects our patients. Not if it affects us.
I pivot again, my sneakers making no sound on the carpet.
A custodian pushing a cart offers a quick smile as hepasses. Two administrators in matching navy blazers barely glance my way.
"I can't believe we're still talking about this," one says to the other.
"Another all-day financial restructuring meeting," the second replies with a sigh. "Third this month. They're doing this, it's now just a matter of when."
I slow my steps, suddenly invested in pretending to check my phone while I eavesdrop. The two continue walking, voices fading.
"Has the board approved it?"
"No, but the writing is on the wall."
Their voices disappear around the corner, but that one word stops my breath.
Suddenly, the legacy I've wanted to escape my entire life is the one thing I need to protect, now. How can this even be on the table?
I don't understand the business side of medicine, but I need to learn fast and find out if this is a real possibility.
My phone buzzes in my trembling hand. Kip's name flashes on the screen.
Where are you? Grimaldi's looking for you, and she doesn't look happy.
Shit.
I sprint down the hallway, dodging a med cart and narrowly avoiding collision with a patient transporter. My Danskos squeak against the freshly waxed floor as I round the corner to the surgical board.
Kip paces beneath the electronic display, tugging his earlobe and checking his watch. His lanky frame straightens when he spots me.
"Where have you been? Grimaldi's on the warpath."
"Administrative floor. I told you." I catch my breath, glancing around to make sure we're not overheard.
"Pull it together, Taylor."
"What exactly did she want?"
"To eviscerate you for missing pre-rounds, probably. But I covered. Told her you were with a coding patient in the ICU."
"You lied to Grimaldi?" My eyes widen.
"Don't make it weird." He shrugs, but I catch the hint of a smile.
"You're weird."
Kip crosses his arms, watching me as I rejoin him outside Grimaldi's office. “So? What’d you find out?”
“Not much,” I admit, still catching my breath. “I couldn’t talk to anyone. But I overheard two administrators on their way into a meeting. They mentioned the ‘concierge proposal’ being all but a done deal.”
His brow tightens. “Damn.”
“I don’t even know what that means exactly, but the way they were talking... it sounded serious.”