Page 6

Febe blew out a breath, her lips pursing. “Twelve weeks?”

“It’s standard now, Ms. Aarts.”

“Wasn’t standard when I was in school,” Febe muttered and clenched her jaw. “Find how many clients we need to find coverage for. Then we can adjust. Perhaps hire someone in temporarily.”

“Yes, Ms. Aarts.” Cherish jotted down notes.

“That’s something those résumés would be helpful for.” Febe pinned Haylee in her chair with a look, forcing her to shrink as she sat there.

Haylee’s stomach sank. How could she have known that was what Febe was thinking about? She wasn’t a mind reader. But she had been there for nine months, and she should do better than that.

Although they did have over a hundred therapists working for them, they communicated directly with Cherish for everything. Most also worked remotely with only a few coming into the office. Precious was one of the therapists who dared to venture in on a daily basis. Despite Febe’s hatred of her.

Was this also a stop gap in case they did end up firing Precious?

Haylee bit her tongue. She wanted to make her point. Veterans and their families needed help. Haylee knew that firsthand—anyone in her generation did—and she wasn’t going to let those affected by the ravages of war not have access to good mental health care. They deserved it.

“Cherish, will you bring me the profit and loss statement for the last month?”

“When would you like it?”

“This afternoon. I’ll go over it in the morning.”

Cherish wrote a note down. How many notes did it take Cherish to get through the day? Good thing they weren’t sticky notes, they’d get through a pack every hour. Cherish settled her pen down quietly, and a tense silence reverberated through the room.

Cherish held herself perfectly still as she leaned toward Febe. “We need to talk about the gala, Ms. Aarts.”

Febe visibly stiffened.

Haylee’s ears perked up. Whatever this was, it was important. Something was about to go down. Haylee had heard rumors about the gala last year, but hadn’t been told anything concrete. When Cherish had asked her for help with it, that had been what she’d needed to confirm. And the reaction from Febe told her exactly what she needed to know. Something massive had happened.

And Haylee wanted to know what.

“When is it?” Febe’s voice was almost as cold as it had been when Haylee had dared ask her earlier question.

“In a few months.”

Febe pursed her lips, her eyes closing. Her cheeks reddened. Haylee leaned forward in her chair, attempting not to look too interested. The last thing she needed was to get on Febe’s bad side again. What could she glean from that look? Absolutely nothing. She didn’t understand the mysterious Febe Aarts to save her life. And no matter how many times she tried, she always seemed to fail at that too.

Keep a job?

Fail.

Keep a date?

Fail.

Pay her bills?

Fail.

Figure out her boss so she wouldn’t be fired?

Utter fail.

Spectacular fail.

This would only be the next in the long string of jobs in her wake. There was no doubt in Haylee’s mind of that, but she had to try her damnedest, didn’t she? She couldn’t turn thirty-four and be onto job number ten, could she? Especially losing out on a job like this.