It’s just a dream for now.
But it’s starting to feel more like a calling.
“Ashley,” Wilks starts again—
“Aspen,” I snap, sharper now.
He still doesn’t notice. “I just don’t see how we can keep funding these ‘initiatives’ without seeing the actual return.”
He says initiatives like it’s a disease.
I take a deep breath, trying to lower my voice and my blood pressure.
“Mr. Wilks, we’ve decreased maternal mortality, surgical errors, and readmissions. We’ve improved overall patient outcomes dramatically, in the last eighteen months. Those resultsarethe returns on investment.”
With an ‘S’ you condescending ass hat.
I can already feel it—the way my voice pitches just slightly too high, the way the air shifts in the room.
They’re about to ring theAngry Black womanbell.
Cecilia steps in to smooth it over. “I think what Aspen is trying to say—”
“I thought her name was Alice,” Wilks mutters under his breath.
Okay, now see. This motherfucker, right here?
“We can’t put a dollar value on patient lives,” Cecilia continues.
“Wanna bet?” Wilks says, and I have to inhale deeply through my nose to keep from launching a chair across the table at his wrinkly head.
The back-and-forth drags on for another thirty agonizing minutes before the meeting finally ends, and I can retreat to my office.
I love my job. I love my job. I love my job…
Right?
***
I’m checking in with my staff about a few upcoming discharges when a sudden ripple of commotion moves through the hallway. Heads turn, and voices drop into a buzz. I glance up from my clipboard to see what’s causing the stir, only to catch a glimpse of one of Cinnamon Grove’s most eligible bachelors: Eros Beaumont. Co-owner of BSN, the Beaumont Sports Network.
Before I can fully process what I’m seeing, one of the nurses leans in and whispers in my ear, shamelessly giddy. “I heard he’s been coming in every week to read to his aunt.”
I blink. “Who’s his aunt?”
She looks at me like I’ve asked her how to spell ‘hospital.’ “Ms. Lilly Rose, your BFF! How have you not known that?”
I stare at her, stunned. “I—uh—guess it never came up. And I’ve been on such weird shifts lately, I must’ve just missed him whenever he came by.”
Eros and his brother, Ares, are more than just tall, athletic, and heartbreakingly handsome. As former college and pro stars turned media moguls, they’ve built BSN into one of the fastest-growing sports networks in the country. But it isn't just their stats or their suits that made them famous, it’s their mission. The Beaumont brothers revolutionized the industry by centering women and diverse voices, making fans from all walks of life feel like they finally had a seat at the table.
And now, one of them is sitting in our hospital. I blink, realizing I never made the connection between the Rose family and the Beaumonts, but the prestige and power between the two families makes all the sense in the world. Since it’s Ms. Lilly’s discharge day, it’s my job to stop by to say my goodbyes on behalf of the hospital. If I just so happen to catch a glimpse of Eros Beaumont in the process? Well, let’s just call that VIP service with a smile.
When I step into Ms. Lilly’s suite, she’s already dressed in her Sunday best, despite it being a Thursday. With her lipstick on and her curls freshly laid from the "wash and set" I gave her yesterday—complete with the sponge rollers she prefers—she wears a signature proud smile. It’s a look that says, quite clearly, she is ready to resume her life of fabulosity.
“About time you showed up, girl,” she says, then gestures to the man standing beside her. “Aspen, meet my nephew. Eros Beaumont.”
Eros turns, and for a second, I forget how to blink. He’s tall—ridiculously tall—with a kind of smooth, dark complexion that makes you wonder if God had extra time when He made him. His beard is immaculately groomed, salt just beginning to show at his chin. He’s handsome and smooth in that African Black soap kind of way. Pure, cleansing, and a little too rich for my blood.
