Page 25 of Ten Day Affair
“Any movement on the rezoning approvals in Charleston?” I ask.
“Still delayed,” Lawrence says. “Which means no movement on pre-sales.”
Marcus leans forward on the screen, voice grave. “We need to start talking about asset strategy. If these trends continue, divestment or operational consolidation might be necessary.”
I finally look up. “Let’s hold the fire sale talk until we hit the fire.”
“There’s another matter,” Victor Reeves cuts in, his Boston accent thick with importance.
"What is it?"
“We need to schedule in-person meetings in West Palm. These virtual sessions aren’t cutting it for the scope of decisions ahead. We need boots on the ground to make sure this goes through.”
My calendar app is already open. I scroll past next week’s board review, thumb hovering over the block I’d already marked for Palm Beach.
“I’m already scheduled to be in Palm Beach next Thursday through Saturday morning for the Q2 facilities and staffing review,” I say.
"I think we need more time than that."
“If it helps calm the waters, I can extend my stay. What do you think? Monday meetings?”
“Two weeks would give us the full window between the initial board session and the finance committee’s end-of-month presentation,” Cavanaugh says, jumping in like it was his idea all along.
"Two weeks?"
“That gives you time to meet with key staff, assess department buy-in, and prep a full proposal for the next restructuring vote. We're going to push for a Friday vote.”
I nod once. “How about Wednesday to the following Sunday? That's twelve days. I can work from there on the other things. I have a few in-person meetings that week, but I'll get Angela to move some things around."
I tap a finger against my desk, the only movement I allow myself. The others wait, their faces a gallery of practiced patience. They think I’m considering numbers. Weighing optics. Playing the long game.
I already made the decision last night when I texted her. The only problem is, she left that one on "Read," too.
“I need specifics on what we’re telling the public. Are we announcing operational changes or maintaining the current messaging?”
Lawrence exchanges glances with Reeves. “Maintaining, for now. We emphasize our commitment to community healthcare while we explore optimization strategies.”
Optimization. Corporate-speak for cutting anything that doesn’t return a high enough yield.
“The Taylor Wing remains untouched in any restructuring proposal,” I say, not phrasing it as a question. I hadn't planned this, but something about seeing the connection with her, I want to try to protect that.
A beat of silence.
“That particular wing operates at a thirty percent loss annually,” Reeves replies, trying to keep his tone neutral.
I let the silence stretch until it gets uncomfortable. “The Taylor Wing remains intact, at least in the initialplan. Non-negotiable at this point. There are still lots of other opportunities to increase revenue.”
That ends the conversation. No one asks why it matters. They’ve learned not to question me. It's one of the benefits of being feared more than liked.
As they sign off one by one with practiced corporate goodbyes, my jaw tightens. It's not from the pressure of work. Pressure has always been my element. It's something else swirling inside of me, something foreign.
My phone buzzes against the glass.
Depends on the day. I’d have to check my schedule… but I’m definitely intrigued.
Her name on the screen pulls more from me than I expect. A spark of something I haven’t felt in a long time. Not just want. Anticipation.
Not a yes. Not a no.
