Page 85 of Ten Day Affair
I press my foot a little harder on the gas and slam the heel of my palm on the wheel when we catch a red light.
I shove the door open and power through the hospital’s main corridor like I’m running late for a trauma consult.
Kip hurries to keep up. “You sure you’re okay to do this?”
“Nope. But I guess we're about to find out.”
We reach the boardroom. I grab the handle, exhale, and push.
Inside, the air's thick with silence and suit jackets. Board members turn one by one, heads swiveling like chess pieces.
Dad sits near the head of the table with his arms folded and his expression unreadable. The midmorning light cuts across his face in stripes. He nods once, and I nod back.
“Dr. Taylor,” Chairman Wilson says, gesturing to a seat.
"Good morning."
“We’re glad you could make it. It's important to have feedback and participation from the doctors as well as the board.”
“Thank you,” I say, sliding into the chair.
The assistant sets a glass of water in front of me. I nod my thanks and scan the room. Grimaldi is here, too, and as stone-faced as ever.
Then I spot the CFO and three members I know by name, though their smiles look thinner than the paper in front of them.
But the one person I'm nervously anticipating, Cole, isn't here.
At the exact moment I realize it, the doors open and he walks in.
Every cell in my body lights up and screams. He looks like sin in a suit. As always, he's sharp, sporting the clean lines and not wearing a tie.
He projects raw power. He doesn’t look at me, not right away. He confidently moves to his seat like this is any other vote on any other day.
“Mr. Houston. Good morning. We were just beginning,” Wilson says.
Cole doesn’t sit.
He steps around the table, walking toward me. He's calm and controlled, like he’s walking into a negotiation and already knows the terms.
My heart bangs in my chest. His eyes flick to mine, then away.
He stops at my chair. Close enough to feel. Close enough to remember.
“Before we begin,” Cole says, addressing the room, “I’d like to disclose that Dr. Taylor and I..."
Oh, shit. What is he saying? My pulse rips through my chest, worrying he is about to out me as his fuck buddy to everyone here, including my father and Dr. Grimaldi.
"...have had recent discussions regarding the Evelyn Taylor Wing.”
Heads turn like dominoes. Grimaldi narrows her eyes, and my father leans forward, visibly tense.
I shoot him a sharp whisper. “What are you doing?”
He keeps his eyes on the room. “We spoke about alternate restructuring models, ways to modernize without eliminating the program entirely.”
Wilson’s brow lifts. “That so? And what did those models propose?”
Cole pauses. Just enough to make it feel deliberate.
