Chapter Fifteen

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You sat in the overpriced, overstuffed leather chair, trying to piece any coherent thought together in the tornado that seemed to overpower your mind. Not only had your colleague of many years turned in his resignation without so much as a warning, but was conveniently replaced with New York City's most notable douchebag physician. You looked between Amilyn and Enric, hoping one of them had more answers on this fucked up situation than you had been given thus far.

Pryde sat next to you, fingers interlaced together over his crossed legs, shoulders back and head held high, as if he were the most powerful man in the world. He was a very smug man, notorious for running off staff members left and right due to his tantrums, leading to a nursing shortage in the clinic he had worked in previously. His face looked like one that was begging to be punched in.

If he runs off any of the nurses, I will rain hellfire upon him, I swear, you thought to yourself, biting your lip.

"Did he give you any reason for his resignation?" you asked, your voice cracking from lack of use in the last hour. You looked to Holdo, who was biting the inside of her cheek, glancing between you and Pryde.

"No. He just...left." She said, frowning.

"Not that it's any of your business, but the situation has been handled. Perkins is gone, leaving a position open on Medical-Surgical, which has now been filled. By me." Pryde sneered at you, his tone that of one someone would use when addressing a child. Your insides nearly roiled in rage, your fists clenching and unclenching as you attempted to calm yourself.

"Well then, now that it's been handled, is there anything else that I need to be here for? You seem to have everything taken care of without my presence." You sneered back at Pryde, your tone equally as demeaning as his was previously.

"Actually, there is." Holdo spoke up, sitting up straighter in her chair, her famous gleaming smile creeping back up. You cocked an eyebrow at her, intrigued by her change in demeanor.

"The hospital is hoping the throw a fundraiser event to raise money for expansion. Administration has been tossing the idea around for what feels like eons, but have never been able to figure out exactly what and how to go about it. You both are highly regarded by other employees, as well as many administrators, so your input is valuable to me." She smiled, pulling out a small lavender notebook and pen, almost chomping at the bit to brainstorm ideas.

"Might I suggest a gala of some sort? Find some art from obscure artists here in the city to auction off, collect donations, provide dinner, maybe even a show?" Pryde questioned, sitting up even straighter in his chair.

Sit up any straighter, Pryde, and people will think you have a rod shoved up your ass, you thought, smirking to yourself.

Amilyn wrote his ideas down, nodding her head as she scrawled across the paper in her expansive, swirling cursive, the room filled with the soft scratching of her pen on the paper. You looked around her office, attempting to contribute an idea better than some snooty gala, filled with two-faced rich people with too much money than they knew what to do with. Your eyes caught on a framed piece of art behind Amilyn, a ballroom filled with people in lavish gowns, intricate masks gracing their faces as they danced around the room.

"What about a masquerade ball?" you asked, looking at Holdo. Her eyes sparkled as a brilliant smile broke out across her face.

"And who in the world would come to that?" Pryde sneered, seeming appalled by your idea. You got up from your seat, the leather almost screaming out from your abrupt exit, as you paced the office.

"Think about it, a small orchestra in a grand ballroom, all the guests dressed up, masks on their faces, couples dancing around the dancefloor. Of course, we can auction off art pieces and serve dinner, if we so choose. Invite New York City's elite, they're always looking for a party. Why not give them one?" you said, smiling.

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