Killian was on night duty when she first encountered Gladys Florence weeks ago. Gladys had trouble sleeping. Killian studied her chart and decided against dispensing a sedative. The elderly patients were mostly alone, with grown children either living away or with families of their own. Oftentimes, just talking about their past comforted them.
As Killian chatted with the old woman, she gathered from the old lady’s stories that her dead husband used to give her a back rub when he was still alive. Killian who had a certificate in Acupressure and Massage techniques decided to give Gilly a backrub. She hoped that the touch of her fingers would bring the elderly woman comfort. It seemed to work because Gilly gave sighs of contentment that was soon followed by shallow breathing indicating deep sleep.
The next morning, Gilly came looking for her at the nurse’s station, eyes shining, barefoot, and with her gown flapping in her wake. Gilly claimed she had never slept better in her entire life and it was all thanks to the massage Killian gave her. She begged the nurse to do it again that night. Killian humored the sweet old lady and agreed.
Before Killian realized what happened, Gilly spread the word to the entire geriatric unit. Soon every elderly patient clamored for a massage from Nurse Killian Church. Eventually, Killian earned the moniker “the angel with the golden fingers.” She became very popular among the elderly, giving them massages during her free time. It was tiring and equally fulfilling because it hit a chord about what she wanted to do with her life.
In her mind, it was a clear sign that her childhood dream of setting up a nursing home for old folks was the right path to follow. This dream stemmed from when she was a young girl who spent a summer taking care of her ailing grandma. She didn’t resent having to spend her days indoors. She found her grandmother’s stories about life in the 30s fascinating and how women were only supposed to know how to cook and clean the house. Grandma defied all conventions and studied to be an engineer. She built her own house and headed the team that constructed the first church in their city. Her name was on a plaque hanging outside the doors of that very church.
Before the old woman passed away, she gave Killian a nursing cap. That gift became her most priceless possession and fueled her desire to become a nurse, along the way realizing her ultimate dream was a facility where she could have old folks stay while she took care of them.
Killian was immediately worried about Gilly as soon as she heard the report from Linda. “I’ll go see Mrs. Florence,” Killian assured the charge nurse and headed up the stairs.
The nurse on floor duty was only too glad to see her. She handed the old lady’s chart to Killian like it was biohazard material. The floor nurse’s patience had run its course.
“Be careful when you enter her room,” she warned. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she used her urine bag as a water bomb.”
Killian approached the door to Room 405 and knocked softly.
“Go away, witch, or I’m going to pelt you with my used diaper,” an angry voice replied from inside.
“Gilly, this is Killian. May I come in?” Killian waited a few seconds before the door was pulled open.
“Killian, I’m so glad you’re finally here. You cannot leave me with that witch again,” Gilly looked down the hall for the “witch” then pulled Killian inside with her.
Killian knew the best thing to do was to let the Gilly rant to let the anger and frustration out of her system. Not once did she contradict or blame the old lady. She listened attentively without patronizing her patient. Killian didn’t need to castigate the old woman. She just gave her a look that said a lot without uttering a single word. When Gilly settled down sufficiently, she apologized for being a difficult patient. She swore she would take her medications if Killian returned later in the night and gave her a massage before bedtime. Killian promised she would as she tucked the old woman into bed.
“She’s fine now,” Killian announced to the surprised “witch” nurse on duty.
Killian headed for the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. Upon reaching the lobby, she made a beeline for the hospital exit and crossed a grassy knoll that led to the courtyard of the Medical Arts Building. This was a modern building compared to the hospital where she worked. The MAB housed a restaurant, coffee shop, and a cafeteria on the ground floor. The next couple of floors were occupied by doctor’s clinics.
Killian headed for the 10th floor where she would find the lavish offices of the Maxwell Saint Sr. Memorial Hospital Board of Directors. Killian knew the hospital was run by these powerful men on the 10th floor. She had never met them and only knew of them through the regular memos that emanated from this place. Those communications ran the hospital with efficiency and direction.
Killian had never stepped foot in the building except thanks to a fluke of nature. The cottage in the wood that she wanted to have was an asset of the hospital. Upon learning that, she set about doing everything in her power to get hold of that abandoned asset.
Killian drafted a letter addressed to the Board of Directors stating her intent to lease the property. She knew it was impossible to present her case to each of the nine directors so she handed her letter to the Board Secretary, Miss Mary Smith.
Killian placed all her hopes on a woman who seemed a little hard of hearing and was continually flustered about the many tasks she had to perform for the Board.
Killian entered an office and hoped she was in the right place to find Miss Mary. The room was broken down into partitions of smaller workspaces and each cubicle was occupied by a secretary working on a computer screen. At the rear was a cubicle that was twice the size of the smaller workspaces in front.
Killian headed towards it and spotted Miss Mary. She crossed her fingers hoping for some news even as she tried to stop the feeling of gloom. She had made so many follow-up calls and never had any luck.
Mary Smith stared at her through thick-rimmed glasses. Killian wondered if the secretary even remembered her.
“Nurse Killian. I’m glad to see you.”
Hope bloomed in Killian’s heart. “Has my letter gotten any response?”
Mary Smith clucked her tongue. “The board has read your letter. But they cannot give you the answer you need because the property is a personal asset of the Chairman, Maxwell Saint.”
Killian felt her spirit sag. “Can I make an appointment to see the Chairman then?”
“Mr. Saint is a very busy man…”
“Oh, please Miss Smith,” Killian begged. “I promise I won’t take too much of his time. I just need to convince him to give me that lease.”
The secretary looked uncertain, then replied. “I am not promising you anything. He might not even want to see you. But if you can come around 9 p.m. tonight, you may catch him in his office.”
Killian was elated. She would definitely make it back here. Nothing would stand in her way from talking to Maxwell Saint and make him understand how important the cottage was to her. The only problem was that she knew nothing about the man.
Chapter TWO
Maxwell Saint signed the last of the letters. He tossed the pen so hard it bounced and landed on the floor. The hospital messenger retrieved it and placed it gingerly back onto the table top as the Chairman thrust the official documents bearing his signature toward him.
“Make sure every fucking board member gets a copy of that,” Maxwell Saint spat angrily, the scowl on his face failing to diminish the innate sex appeal he exuded.
“Yes, sir,” the messenger replied scampering out of the room.
The glint in the golden-brown eyes didn’t diminish even as he downed the contents of a brandy glass. He sauntered towards the wooden drinks cabinet and poured himself another shot of Remy Martin.
Maxwell Saint refused to consider what he just did. He realized there could be an enormous repercussion. Right now, he didn’t give a fuck that he just fired the entire 9-member board of the Maxwell Saint Sr. Memorial Hospital. The anger had been smoldering in his gut for days now.
The old farts had not been keeping their discontent a secret. He heard complaints about his frequent absences from board meetings, delays in release of important memos, contracts, and paperwork needed to keep a hospital running efficiently. He was often nowhere to be found when the board needed to discuss programs or schedules with him because he was at the country club instead.
It didn’t help that he wrecked his fucking Range Rover when he jumped a highway guardrail and ended up in a ditch. It was all over the news that his blood alcohol limit was off the charts and he was being charged with DUI, reports that only enhanced the bad-boy image.
What pushed him beyond the limit was finding that letter on his table. It was signed by all the members…. with the exception of Lady Julia Saint who was his mom and Uncle Tony, his dad’s brother who sat as the corporate secretary of the Board.
The rest of the Board cited his conduct unbecoming of a Chairman and demanded that he resign his post or they would be forced to expel him. The letter further cited an article in the by-laws that gave them the authority to do so if he was perceived as a liability to the corporation.
Max was furious at the audacity of these medieval farts. The hospital was his dad’s legacy, setting it up from a 10-hospital bed to the current 2000 beds with an overall satisfaction rating of 87% from its patients. Max had every intention of bringing up that rating to 100%. He just kept getting sidelined with his other “interests” and all he really needed was time to make things alright. That was his justification. He thought he had all the time in the world to make up for whatever it was the Board was complaining about. Until he read that letter today. Then he just lost it.
He commanded the legal department to immediately furnish him a copy of the articles of incorporation and by-laws. Together with a lawyer, he pored over the document until Max found what he wanted. Satisfied he was doing the right thing, Max signed the termination letters. It gave him a feeling of pure satisfaction as he imagined the look of shock on each of the fucking board members faces.
Suddenly, he remembered his mom. The sense of triumphed went down a notch and was replaced by anxiety. He would tell his mom tonight and make her understand the situation. They didn’t need these wheezing old men on the board if all they ever did was criticize him for the way he lived his life.
Max stared at the empty glass and placed it on the console. Deep inside he knew that there was a bit of truth on the complaints about his behavior. He could try and convince the whole world but he couldn’t lie to himself. He had been slacking off lately. The wrecked Range Rover, the unplanned trysts abroad to be with this model or that actress, spending enormous amounts of time at the country club playing golf.
Max knew that things were coming to head weeks ago. These board members were old-school. Some were former friends of his dad when his old man was still alive. That gave him a false sense of security they would understand. When he heard the talks and comments, his annoyance started to grow. However, he did not expect that they would actually threaten his position as Chairman.
“They crossed the line,” he muttered.
Had they forgotten that it was he who got the new wing of the hospital constructed? They couldn’t source any funding. The capital wasn’t approved as part of the financial expenses and the board was against borrowing from the bank because the interest alone would eat into their annual budget. He approached one of his mom’s society friends who made a substantial donation so they could begin construction. Each time the funds run out, he found sources until the building was completed.
Max’s expertise was generating funds which required him to attend high profile events to meet investors willing to invest their money in the hospital. It was a tiring and thankless job and most often he felt lonely. But he plodded on because it was something he wanted to do in memory of his dad.
For the board to forget everything he had done for the hospital infuriated him. There was nothing more he could do. He had given in to his anger. The letters had been dispatched. No use worrying about it.
He decided to go to the country club. A round of golf was exactly what he needed. The fresh air and walking in the greens would ease his mind that he actually did more damage because his ego was hurt by a few wheezing gizzards.
***
Dusk had fallen when Max returned back to the club. He wasn’t very happy with his game today. He couldn’t focus however hard he tried. His personal caddy, Jake, gathered his clubs as Max headed for the showers.
When he emerged, he was met by a waiter who handed him a note. It was from Uncle Tony who wanted to have a word with him in one of the private function rooms on the second floor.
Max knew instantly why Uncle Tony was here. The man must have heard from the other members about the letter terminating them all from the corporation. Max expected that. Uncle Tony was like a second dad after his own dad passed away from stage 4 cancer. It was ironic for someone who owned and managed a well-known hospital not to have spotted cancer early enough to cure it.
Uncle Tony was an impressive 70 year old with silver gray hair and the physique of a man in his 50s. He took pride in the fact no one ever guessed correctly how old he really was.
Max liked Uncle Tony. The guy never dished any bullshit. He spoke the truth whether one like it or not. Max respected that. With Uncle Tony, he knew exactly where he stood.
The older man hugged him when he entered the room. Uncle Tony was always the epitome of discretion, thus the choice of a private room to talk.
“You wanna order anything from the menu?” Uncle Tony asked.
“Nah,” Max declined, chugging down mineral water from a bottle in his hand.
Uncle Tony grinned and looked the younger man straight in the eye. “You know why I’m here, right?”
Max smiled sheepishly. With him, there was no need to pretend.
“You plan on stirring up a shit storm firing everyone on the Board?” Uncle Tony asked.
“I just wanted those fuckers to know who’s the boss. They can’t go around threatening me. I won’t tolerate it. Half of them should have retired a long time ago. We keep them out of loyalty to honor dad’s memory,” Max fumed.
“And it is because of your dad’s memory that those men care enough to want you fired because you are not doing your job,” Uncle Tony countered. “Cut the bullshit, Max. You know that you have been slacking. I’m not one to meddle in your private affairs, as long as your affairs don’t hurt the company. We were about to close a deal in Canada. A hospital facility bearing the Saint name outside US territory until your car accident was splashed all over the newspapers. Our Canadian counterparts got scared because you came across as unreliable. They want to cancel the deal. Unfortunately for them, their government is tied down to us on a legal clause that says we have an option to negotiate with other Canadian firms if the first deal fails.”
Max kept quiet, embarrassed that he had forgotten all about that deal in Canada. Uncle Tony sighed in exasperation, then added. “Do you realize the kind of publicity the hospital will face once the news breaks out that you have fired the entire Board?”
Max rolled his eyes. He had to admit that had been at the back of his mind. He allowed his anger to overcome reason. The desire for revenge was so strong he didn’t think things through when he fired the entire corporation. Suddenly, he just felt petty.
“It’s too late now. Word must have gotten out by this time,” Max replied feeling remorseful. It hurt him to think of the damage he had done to the very company his father built from scratch.
“Maybe not,” Uncle Tony countered picking up a manila folder from the table. “Here,” he said, tossing it over to his nephew.
Max peeked inside the envelope and exhaled loudly. The contents were all the letters he sent out earlier in the day. “How did you…”
“You got lucky this time. I intercepted the messenger and read one of the letters. When I realized what it was, I took them all before he had a chance to deliver any of it,” Uncl
e Tony explained.
Max tried to hide the surge of relief he felt. He didn’t want Uncle Tony to tease him about this particular gaffe in the future, but truthfully Max never felt more grateful to anyone in his life. Suddenly he remembered the letter from the Board asking him to resign. His annoyance returned.
“I will not allow those senile old men to tell me what to do. Never.” He said hotly.
“Oh, get off your high horse, you punk,” Uncle Tony retorted. “Do you really think I will allow them to pull that kind of stunt? I have dirt on each of them. I can use that as blackmail, err, bargain, to leave you alone,” he added jokingly.
“What do they want from me?” Max asked.
“Nothing that you shouldn’t have done months ago. Pull your shit together. It wouldn’t hurt if you showed some signs of settling down, you know. Get one of those actresses you love so much to pretend she’s a doctor …or even a goddamn nurse, and then announce to the world she is your girlfriend. That should appease those old fuckers.”
The Boss's Fiance Box Set Page 48