Page 9

Nova

“ N ova, hey, are you busy?” Stephanie, my administrator asked, barging into my office like she paid the bills..

Fuck. Forgot to lock the damn door again.

“No, Steph. What's up?” I said, forcing a smile. As administrators went, Stephanie wasn’t horrible.

Young, Black, educated, always put together.

Only thirty-five, and already running one of the toughest buildings in the company. I respected the grind. I really did.

But sometimes Steph forgot something critical.

I didn’t work for her.

We were equals. Coworkers. I ran clinical. She ran operations. Two lanes, stay in yours. Praying this wasn’t about to be one of those "forget your lane" moments, I sat back in my chair. She stepped in, looking serious.

“We’ve got an emergency corporate meeting at two. Byron just called. Said it's about a change in the corporate team.”

I glanced at my Apple Watch. 1:20 p.m. I sighed. “What do you think it's about?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “We’re due for a new owner. It’s been two years. It’s about time.”

“We’ve had what? Three owners in the last five?” she said, sighing.

“Exactly. You really think it's just a new team member being added?” Steph shrugged. “Guess we’ll see.”

I nodded and stood up. “Cool. I’ll go grab my squad. Meet you in the conference room.”

My management team consisted of myself, my assistant director of nursing Kim, and my two unit managers, Tyra and Cortney.

For the most part we were a solid team. We all complemented each other's strengths, which was a good thing in management. My first stop was Kim’s office.

Lucky for me, Tyra and Cortney were already posted up at her door, running their mouths.

“Ladies, conference room. Thirty minutes. Emergency meeting with corporate.”

Kim groaned. “What now?”

“We're getting sold, ain’t we?” Cortney chimed in, grinning.

“Why does everyone automatically think that?” I asked, laughing.

Tyra, arms folded, before she laughed and said, “Because these companies switch owners faster than a hoe switches tricks. And Covid only made it worse.”

We all burst out laughing. Tyra didn’t care what flew out of her mouth, and honestly? I loved her for it.

“No matter what,” I said, chuckling, “residents still gotta eat, still gotta shower. Whatever changes, we stay focused.”

As I turned to leave, Kim called out, “Nova, before you go. The new ombudsman’s coming Monday. She’s got complaints from Mr. Hightower.”

I rolled my eyes so hard my brain shook. “What now?”

“Showers. Food. Call bells. Us breathing air he don’t like. The usual,” Kim deadpanned.

“Set up a time. I’ll fit her in,” I said, heading to the conference room.

When I got to the conference room, most of the department heads were already seated which was strange since they usually dragged in late like kids avoiding school.

I slid into my usual seat near the back, watching everyone file in.

The air buzzed with nervous tension. Then the projector screen flashed on and Byron’s goofy mug popped up, the tension snapped tighter.

"Good afternoon, everyone," Byron said, smiling too wide for what was about to drop.

Short, round, and full of bullshit, that was Byron. A man who loved hiring pretty faces with empty heads, while every building under him rotted.

“I won’t drag it out. As of the twenty-eighth, this facility has been sold to Phoenix Healthcare Group,” he said, voice chipper like he just handed us free lottery tickets.

"An email will go out with details about jobs, benefits, and payroll.

Phoenix's team will be here Monday to start the transition. I’ve loved working with you all. If you have questions, hit me up."

The click of the Zoom ending was deafening around the large room. Then all of a sudden cue chaos.

“Man, what the fuck?” Bobby from Maintenance barked. “Two week’s notice? Really?”

“And who the hell is Phoenix Healthcare Group?” someone else snapped.

Rumors flew like bullets.

“They bought four other buildings. Big changes. Big money,” Moe from the kitchen said.

“I heard they fired half the staff and brought in their own people. But they pay better than anybody,” Connor from Admissions added.

The noise blended into a dull roar. I wasn’t stressing. I was a nurse. If it got too crazy, I'd bounce. Simple.

Monday hit quicker than a backhand. After the morning stand-down, everyone sat on edge, as everyone stood, clock- watching like our lives depended on it.

I had tried to research the new owner but he was a goddamn ghost. Net worth articles, corporate mumbo jumbo, but no face, no background, no anything.

Who the hell was he?

Suddenly, Tyra crashed into the room like she'd been running a marathon.

“They’re here,” she gasped. She gave me a weird smirk before practically falling into her seat.

The room froze. The door swung open. Two middle-aged women in power suits. Four men trailing behind them. All tailored, all polished. But none of them were the reason Tyra looked like she saw a ghost. No. He walked in last. And my heart fucking stopped.

Six-foot-four of pure danger. In a three-piece suit that molded to his broad body. His gray eyes were intense and sharp enough to slice glass. And when those eyes locked on mine and the world disappeared.

Seconds .

It was only seconds. But it cracked something inside me wide open. He broke the gaze first, and somehow, the air felt colder because of it. He moved with the kind of control that made you wonder what he’d be like without it. I barely kept my jaw from dropping as he sat directly across from me.

Crew Sanderson.

It was him. The man from the gala that I had allowed to fuck me into a coma this weekend. The man who ruined me with one weekend and a thousand memories I never planned to have.

He slid off his glasses, leveling the room with that stare. As he positioned himself at the head of the conference table.

“Good morning,” he said, voice deep, steady, lethal. “If you’re unclear, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Crew Sanderson, owner of Phoenix Healthcare Group.”

No soft welcome. No warm speech. Crew didn’t deal in sugarcoating. He was straight to the muthafukin point.

“Some of you will continue on this journey with us. Some of you will not," he said. "Effective March first, the following individuals are terminated.”

The silence was deafening. Crew rattled off names like reading off a grocery list with zero emotion. Admissions. Kitchen. Maintenance. Gone.

"Collect your severance from the front desk. You’re excused," he said simply, leaning back in his chair, every inch a king in his court.

It was ruthless and efficient. But it was also sexy as hell and I hated myself for thinking it. The rest of the meeting covered facility upgrades, expectations, upcoming evaluations. Everything he said screamed one thing:

Change was coming so get on board or get run over.

As the meeting ended, individual team meetings were scheduled.

Clinical just so happened to be first. I stayed seated, pretending not to be stealing glances at him while also pretending not to be undressing him in my mind.

But Crew? He wasn’t pretending at all. The way he looked at me said one thing.

He wanted me, and this time, he wasn’t letting me run.