Page 89 of Ten Day Affair

“I’m not here to be anyone’s white knight,” I say finally. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? I did more than anyone else in there.

I glance away. Bringing it up in the room, putting a new model on the table, was putting my own neck and profits on the line. I could’ve just stayed quiet, voted, and cashed out. That was the plan.

I've been up since four this morning, running and rerunning the numbers, trying to think of any way to buy more time. This was all that was left. But I'm only one vote on the board.

He watches me for a long second, then nods once. “Well. Good luck in there.”

I watch his back disappear around the corner before turning to the boardroom. Hand on the handle, I pause and then step back in.

The energy’s different now. There's less tension and more transaction, like the vote was the climax, and now we’re in cleanup.

A few heads glance up, half acknowledgment, half curiosity. No one asks where I went. No one mentions her. But that unexpected speech I gave, and then following her out, will inevitably raise questions.

I don't give a fuck, I'm out of here after this anyway.

Dr. Morris adjusts his glasses and leans forward, tapping the folder in front of him. “Alright. So the motion carries. Let’s talk post-vote logistics.”

Wilson nods. “We’ll issue a statement to department heads by the end of the day. Communications has a draftqueued up depending on which way the vote went, so we should be able to roll pretty quickly.”

Beside me, Nadine Weller, the VP of finance, speaks up. “Just to reiterate for the record, this morning’s vote satisfied the terms of the acceleration notice we received.”

They think the lender forced their hand. In a way, I did.

I sent the notice three days ago because I had to, because the deal needed movement or it risked rotting. I didn’t expect it to trigger guilt.

But when Sam and I talked the night before last, suddenly I needed a way to slow it down, not speed it up.

That’s why I've been up since four, running scenarios I already knew the answers to. I wanted to buy her time without stopping the train.

I told myself I could slow it without compromising the deal. I thought if I floated the hybrid idea, maybe the board would take the bait.

They didn’t.

She continues, like she’s reading from a script. “We were given until the end of next week to produce a credible restructuring plan or face default.”

I don’t blink.

“Is that what prompted the vote to be moved up?” Someone asks.

Weller nods. “Yes. Once legal reviewed the terms, it was clear the board needed to act before Friday. Any delay would’ve removed any wiggle room, and if we fell short, it would have triggered a full technical default.”

“Messaging to staff?” someone asks.

Lansing glances at his notes. “Framed as modernization, patient-focused and improved access, personalized care, reduced delays. You know the playbook.”

The next few minutes are a blur of logistics, legalnotices, staffing realignment, and partner onboarding. My job here is done. I was here only to get through the vote.

“We’ll need to engage new provider groups within the next sixty days. Some physicians won’t transition under the new model.”

“Timeline to rollout?”

“Three months for initial conversion. Six months to full execution. Sooner if we keep moving cleanly.”

Cleanly.

I glance at the empty chair where Sam was sitting less than an hour ago. There’s nothing clean about this.

The boardroom empties slowly once the meeting is over. Folders close, suits adjust, and chairs scrape back.