by Katie Cross
I Am Girl Power
Chick Lit
Text copyright © 2017 by Katie Cross
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, or incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity or resemblance to events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover designed by Jenny Zemanek with Seedlings Online
Typesetting of print editions by Chris Bell with Atthis Arts LLC
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All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the author. For information regarding permission, send a query to the author at [email protected]
Published by THHS Publishing.
KOBO EDITION • ISBN 978-1-946508-06-5 • VERSION 1.7
Also available in a paperback edition (ISBN 978-1-946508-08-9)
Visit the author at katiecrosschicklit.com to learn more about The Health and Happiness Society.
To Megan Gray. You are the girl power in me.
Chapter 1
Sterile Breaks
Sweatpants, flip-flops, and a braid never let me down.
Despite the luxury of my boyfriend’s elegant, low-lighted dinner gala unfurling around me, I couldn’t stop thinking about my comfortable sweats. My dress itched in all the wrong places, digging into my ribs like teeth. The arch of my left foot spasmed. I gritted my teeth and smiled through it for the tenth time.
With a sigh of resignation, I searched for Nathan again. Empty chairs ringed the tables laden with glittering crystal and vases of orchids. The floral scent gave me a headache. How he managed to mingle so effortlessly, I’d never understand.
Luckily, no one paid attention to me. I slipped my left heel off and groaned when my tense foot relaxed against the cool tile floor.
Heaven.
“Ah! Megan. There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Nathan swept up to my side, setting a hand on the small of my back. He reminded me of a hawk. Shrewd. Sharp. Intelligent to a fault. With his straight nose and strong features, he looked like a Greek god.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked.
“Working the room.”
Nathan could mingle with a school of sharks and still cut a business deal. His studious gaze hadn’t stopped scanning the room, but the edges of his lips twitched upward. Something must be happening.
“What’s going on?” I drawled, popping my right heel off and suppressing the urge to toss the heels into a punch fountain. Instead of rubbing my feet—I had some sense of social decorum—I wiggled my newly freed toes.
Nathan nodded toward the other side of the room where a lanky man with wisps of thin hair around his temples lingered near the punch bowl.
“See him?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s the CEO, Marshall Grant. I just spoke with him.”
A prickle of intuition raised the hair on the back of my neck. CEO? Nathan had been salivating over a promotion ever since we started dating six weeks ago. “Nate,” I said, eyeing him. “Do you have something important to tell me?”
His composure broke, and he gave me his signature, sparkling smile that buckled my knees.
“Oh, nothing big. Just a little promotion. To Director.” He paused. “In New York City.”
I squealed. He threw his arms around me, swept me off my feet, and spun me in a circle. Once he set me down, I clutched his shoulders.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Nate!” I smacked his shoulder. “Great job! You’ve been working forever for this.”
He ran a hand through his hair. His perfect locks skewed to the left in the most adorable way. “This is huge. Megs, I can’t tell you. This is … Titanic if it never hit an iceberg. Atlantis if it never sunk.”
Neither of those things would have been legends without their terrific failures, but I let that go.
“Congratulations!”
“There’s so much to do. I’ll be moving. Probably next week. Sooner? No. Tomorrow is just too soon. Although I could rent a hotel room…”
His voice trailed off in a mumble. A wave of exhaustion swept over me as the clock caught my gaze. One in the morning. My bed and my sweats and braless freedom called for me.
“Let’s talk about this in your car,” I said around a yawn, collecting my discarded heels. Maids crept across the room with trash bins. The lights dimmed. Nathan muttered as he followed my insistent tugs toward the elevator and through the parking garage, unaware that I walked barefoot. He jerked his head back and forth as if answering his own questions, and we slipped inside his cherry-red Mustang.
Fifteen silent minutes later, he pulled up in front of my townhouse but didn’t turn the car off. The seatbelt slid across my shoulder with a hiss when I released it, reaching for the door handle. He stared at the odometer with a fixed gaze.
“Nate?” I asked. “You okay?”
He blinked, as if coming out of a daze, and frowned. “No. Well, yes. Meg, we need to talk.”
“Talk?”
“I’m worried that … I think this promotion will complicate things between us.”
“Nate, we’re both workaholics. Things are already complicated.”
“This is different. Long-distance relationships suck.”
“So do breakups.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I don’t think this will work anymore.”
This, he’d said. What did this mean? My heart beat a heavy staccato in my ribs as the ugly truth wormed into my brain. No way. No way was he breaking up with me this evening.
“Whoa, Nate. Don’t do this. Not on a whim. Listen, long-distance can suck, but it can be fun in its own way.” Mostly miserable. “A-and visiting New York City will be fun!”
He scoffed. “Maybe for you.”
My brow furrowed. “You don’t want me to visit?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not that. It’s just going to be different. You’re wonderful, Megan.”
“Don’t you dare—”
“But this promotion is going to be intense.” He slipped into a robotic tone that made me want to fizzle all his circuits. “And I don’t think it would be fair to you if I moved to New York City and buried myself in work. Besides, this never felt easy. You can’t deny that.”
“Good things are never easy!”
“But good relationships should be. We didn’t have that it factor, you know? And I’m looking for it.”
“What’s it?”
“I don’t know! I just know I’ll feel it.”
Oh, you’re going to feel something in a minute. My nails dug into my palms. This relationship hadn’t sunk yet. I could forgive this conversation. Forget the trapped fear in his eyes.
“Good relationships are hard work, Nate. Not even some magical it factor would change that.”
He sighed and lifted his hands. “Meg, I’m ending this. I’m sorry. Thank you for all the time we’ve had together, but I think it’s best we split ways.”
A livid current of hurt and rage swept through me. “So that’s it? You aren’t even going to try?”
He tucked his chin to his chest and closed his eyes.
“No. We’re done.”
What about the good times? I wanted to say, although I couldn’t think of one right then. We’re both career oriented. We both…
My mind stuttered to a stop. Surely, we had something else in common. Some fantasti
c date to draw from? But my mind rang with empty silence. Besides, I’d been down this road before. Many, many times. Once he didn’t want it, there was no reason to fight.
Sterile breaks like this were the hardest. Clean. Clinical. The lack of emotion left me feeling lost. I preferred sparks and livid shouting. Accusations hurt far less than passive silence.
“You’ll be fine.” He waved a hand through the air. “You’re one of the strongest girls I’ve ever met. I know you’ll meet someone who fits.”
Be strong, then, Meg. That’s what they all expect, isn’t it? I clenched my fists. Girl power and all that.
“Right. Well. Best of luck!” I said brightly, reaching for the door handle. “Thanks for everything.”
The words faltered only a little. He opened his mouth to say something, decided against it, and rested a hand on the back of my seat. To my delight, a hint of disappointment lingered on his downturned lips.
Yep, I wanted to say, I’m already over you.
“Uh … yeah. See ya around, Meg.”
I wouldn’t come near you even if you paid me, lover boy.
His eyes followed me as I unlocked my door, shoulders straight and chin high. Once inside, I tossed the heels into a corner and ripped bobby pins out of my hair. I stormed through my townhouse, Medusa-style curls flowing in every direction as I peeled my dress off.
“Good riddance, Nathan,” I yelled, tossing it out the open window. With outrage burning in my veins, I stalked to my bedroom to find the warmest pair of sweats I owned.
The World’s Worst Breakup Excuses
“We have different life experiences. You’re way ahead of me.”
“You’re not really my type.”
“Let’s get married. No? Okay. Let’s break up.”
“You don’t need me, and I want to be needed.”
“You do single so well!”
“We didn’t have that it factor, you know?”
After lounging in my sweats all day Sunday—and avoiding my phone lest Nate call—I stepped into the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit on Monday morning with renewed determination.
Forget ex-boyfriends. Lose myself in work. Worked every time.
I stopped near the front desk and drew in a deep, relieved breath. The smell of alcohol and cleaning solution filled my nose with a comforting, familiar tang. At last, I could fall into the safety of nursing. Forget the cutting pain of rejection. Forget the lonely ache of my bruised heart.
Ah, work.
“You never let me down,” I murmured to a bank of cardiac monitors as I swept by them, headed for the charge nurse’s office with a spring in my step. Conversations buzzed in the air like human drones. A few bleary-eyed night shift nurses waved at me.
Work is always here, I thought. Nathan can dump me like all the rest of my failed relationships, but work never will. It always has my back.
“Here!” I announced as I slid into the charge nurse’s office. “Is the floor busy today? I could use a crazy assignment.”
Tami, charge nurse for the day shift, sat behind a computer. A clipboard, a stethoscope, and a copy of the patient assignments were splayed around her. Her left hand curled around a coffee mug like a sleepy cat. She regarded me with suspicion in her teardrop-shaped eyes.
“What happened to you?” she asked, straightening. “You look like the monster from a science fiction movie.”
“Ah, Tami. You always did have a way with words.”
She pointed to my feet. “Your shoes don’t match. Why are you here? You’re not on the schedule.”
“Don’t ask. Can I pick up an extra today?”
She blinked. “You came in here at 6:45 in the morning on the offhand chance I needed an extra nurse?”
“Yep.”
“Don’t you have a life?”
“Of course I have a life.” I lifted both arms. “It’s here at work! Just like yours.”
Tami shook her head. “You’re insane.”
Desperate, I wanted to counter. It’s a fine line.
“We always need an extra nurse these days,” I said, perusing the patient assignments. “Give me the craziest assignment on the floor. Something that’ll keep me running all day.”
“No one requests that, you psycho. What happened?”
“Life,” I muttered.
She glanced down at the papers with a rueful sigh. “That I can understand. I have five kids who insist on eating more than once a day. If our stupid CEO keeps running the hospital into the ground, it won’t happen.”
“Is that a yes?”
“No. But I think Karen may be looking for you. She asked whether you’d be here today.”
“What did she want?”
“Dunno.”
Why would my floor manager want to speak with me? I snapped my fingers. “I just took the test to get my certification in Critical Care Nursing. She probably got the results.”
“Still hoping for a spot on the flight team?”
“Yep. Right on track, just as I’ve planned for the last six years.” I tapped a picture of a helicopter and three of our nurses in flight suits. Working as a nurse on a helicopter required guts of steel; flight nurses were the tip of the sword. Skilled. Versatile. Talented. Flight nursing required intense training in life-saving procedures and flawless execution. Simply put, they dropped into ugly situations and saved lives while flying through the air. It had been my goal since I graduated nursing school.
Tami held up a fist. “Go get ‘em, girl power.”
I ducked out of the office, ignoring Tami’s low grumbles about fewer vacation days, and headed toward the management alcove. A wedge of light spilled across the floor from the back-corner office.
“Karen?” I called, advancing into the room. “You in?”
“Come on in.”
Karen, nurse manager for the CICU, stood behind her desk. Her shoulder-length, coffee-colored hair stuck out from a messy bun. A single diamond earring glittered in her left ear, and her usual wide grin had been replaced by a tight, weary expression. If she hadn’t been wearing her official unit jacket, I’d have thought she’d come in drunk.
“Oh, hey, Megan. I didn’t know you’d be coming in today.” She frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“I came in to see if there were any extras. Tami said you were looking for me. Have you gotten my results from the CCRN class yet?”
Her mouth bobbed up and down for a second before she motioned to a chair. “Oh, uh, no. I haven’t heard back yet. Have a seat. I’m glad you stopped by. I need to speak with you.”
My backpack fell to the floor with a thud as I lowered myself into an old chair. “Looking good,” I said with a little smile, surveying her haggard expression.
Her lips twitched. “I could say the same about you.”
“You need coffee.”
“More like an espresso drip.”
“Seriously, Karen. Are you—”
She waved me off. “Fine. I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”
Paperwork lay scattered across her desktop. Minutes from a meeting. Immunization records. Next month’s schedule. Licensure renewals highlighted in red, the word URGENT screaming across the top. Karen steepled her hands in front of her and drew in a deep breath. My stomach knotted like an old necklace.
I sat back. “This can’t be good.”
“As you know, the hospital is struggling financially and has been for a while. To stay ahead of The Game, our CEO is asking every unit to cut back.” Her eyes fluttered closed, and her shoulders slumped. “On staff.”
The light in her office clouded. My mouth worked like a fish for ten seconds before any words came out.
“Cut back?”
“We have to downsize by one full-time nurse.” She sucked in a deep breath through her teeth. Her voice had become a monotone. “Unfortunately, that’s you.”
My mind whirled. I had no seniority at West End. Before hiring on last year, I’d been at another hospital in a Pediatric ICU. For the past six years,
I’d moved units often so I could gain more experience in preparation for flight nursing.
My blood iced in my veins.
“Me?” I whispered.
“I know it’s unexpected. An ironic twist of fate to lose one of our best nurses because of a numbers game. Unfortunately, I have no way around it.” She shuffled through a stack of papers. “I’ve tried to negotiate. I’ve looked for someone else to let go, but I don’t have enough documentation of error.”
She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. A long silence filled the vacuum. The marrow of my bones had been sucked away. Not only would I lose my job but possibly my perfectly structured career. My chance of becoming a flight-nurse teetered on thin ice.
Karen’s heavy exhale drew me out of my winnowing thoughts. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.
“Megan, I wish I could tell you how sorry I am.”
“The flight team,” I said, stuttering. “I’m so close! I’ve done every certification class. There’s a new opening on the flight team in just a few months. Blake accepted my application two weeks ago.”
“Maybe Blake can work magic that I can’t. Trust me, Megan.” She put a hand over her face. “I’ve tried everything.”
My fervor died. This cutback would hurt more than just me. The entire floor would suffer, including Karen.
“It’s not your fault.” I swallowed. “I can see that you’ve tried, and that means a lot.”
“One of my friends, Jodie Renner, is a nurse recruiter for EveryHealth Corporation. I’m going to send your name her way. She’ll get you a job.” Karen’s voice softened. “Just … not at West End.”
The words settled in my mind, trailing into a numb haze.
Not at West End.
Karen set her shoulders. “The severance package is minimal. Four weeks paid. Unfortunately, I need you to clean out your locker and hand over your badge before you leave. I’m sorry, Megan, but we won’t be staffing you anymore.”
I drifted into a numb stupor while Karen moved into the details about severance pay and insurance benefits through the summer.
