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The question was blunt. An unexpected shot of tequila poured down her throat with no promise of a chaser. Bunny blinked, her eyes widening in disbelief. She didn’t think she’d said anything—as sarcastic as she was—against the hospital or any of her coworkers. Why the hell would Julian think she was being ungrateful? She’d even gotten out of bed hours before her shift in order to make it to this meeting. Now she was ungrateful. She’d been having a fantastic dream about Jason Momoa taking her out to dinner.
When he realized she wasn’t going to respond, Julian leaned forward over his desk and continued. “You haven’t attended any of the free grief counseling sessions we arranged for you,” he pointed out gently, as though expecting her to go off like a bomb. “And you haven’t taken any bereavement leave. You didn’t even take the day off for your mother’s funeral, Bunny.” He pressed his lips into a thin line that made him look like Adam Sandler’s evil twin. “These are not the actions of a person who is coping… well with grief.”
“I’m coping just fine,” Bunny sighed, flapping a hand impatiently. “I don’t need anyone down in Psych to tell me that. Nothing about my ability to do my job has changed.”
Julian quirked a sandy-blond brow. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Bunny felt the initial tingling of rage prickling the base of her spine. She lifted her own brow, her jaw set in a way that didn’t bode well for her boss. She was fifty-two years old, for fuck’s sake. And she had once had to manage a tracheotomy on her own in the ER waiting room. And she sure wasn’t scared of Julian, or anything her coworkers had said behind her back. “Excuse me?”
It was Julian’s turn to squirm in his chair as he realized he was moving into damage-control territory. “You’ve been with us a long time, Bunny. You’re an extremely skilled and knowledgeable nurse. You’re a valued team member. But I’ve received some feedback from concerned colleagues.”
A loud, disbelieving snort escaped Bunny’s nose before she could stop it. “Concerned colleagues?” she asked wryly. Her expression shifted, broadcasting her disgust and abject disdain. “You’re firing me?”
“I’m not firing you,” Julian retorted hastily. “Yet.”
Bunny’s expression deepened. “Then what?”
Julian straightened, physically priming himself for what was coming next.
“The board—”
“—Jesus, Julian, you took this to the board?”
“The board has decided that unless you choose to undertake grief counseling and get the all-clear, we can’t have you on the floor.”
She felt like one of her lungs had collapsed. For a second, it was hard to draw a breath. She was scared breathing would make this real. Bunny relied on her job, now more than ever. Her long shifts kept her safe, away from her empty apartment where she could spend way too much time dwelling.
“What the hell, Julian.”
But her boss had hit his stride.
“I’m sorry, Bunny. You know the pressure the emergency department is under. You know the kind of environment you’re working in better than anyone else on the floor. That’s why you will understand that it’s a risk the hospital just isn’t willing to take.”
Bunny didn’t reply. She couldn’t. She didn’t trust anything other than curse words to come out of her mouth. When it became clear that she didn’t mean to speak, Julian continued.
“Effective Monday, you’re being sent on secondment to Arcadian Waters Care Home.”
“Geriatrics!?” That got a rise. “You’re sending—by your own admission—your most experienced, most skilled triage nurse to work in geriatrics?”
The rage inside of her that started as a tingle was now almost a full-blown seizure. This was unbelievable! He was using her situation against her, and he knew it, by why wasn’t anyone’s guess. Had Allison complained? Which of her coworkers would have gone to Julian with concerns instead of just speaking to Bunny themselves?
But none of it mattered now. She could see that Julian’s mind was made up. And she’d been stupid enough to refuse the counseling sessions. Bunny had all but handed him the loaded pistol to shoot her with. She pressed her back into the chair, ignoring the way it jutted into the soft flesh below her ribs. Tilting her head back, she looked at Julian defiantly.
“I have three shifts over the weekend. You’ll never get anyone to cover them on such short notice.”
Julian didn’t answer. He pursed his lips again and averted his gaze to the window, a light flush in his cheeks.
Her shifts were already covered.
“Exactly how long have you been planning this?” Bunny demanded.
His gaze drifted back to her. There was genuine discomfort in his eyes, but she didn’t give a rat’s ass. It wasn’t him who was being shipped off to a job he hadn’t asked for.
“We’re just looking out for you,” he insisted gently. “Despite what you might think right now, everyone here cares about you a great deal.”
She was done. A thousand percent done. Bunny clamped her teeth down tight to keep herself from losing her shit.
“You’ll retain your current salary, and all other benefits,” Julian continued. “And once you have the all-clear, we’ll make arrangements to transition you back to triage.”
After a few seconds, she stood and gathered her purse. “That’s very generous, Julian,” she told him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I suppose I should be grateful.”
Without offering her former boss so much as a goodbye, Bunny left.
