“Yeah, well, seems the director and his band of merry thieves have been dipping into the honey pot, and the place is on the verge of bankruptcy,” Macey sneered.
Holy crap. I’d been lucky to get this job. As a newly qualified DNP five years ago, jobs had been scarce because of cutbacks. Somehow, I’d landed at a small hospital and had been thankful. Now, it appeared everything was about to go pear-shaped. Worried, frightened looks were being exchanged amongst the others surrounding me, and a couple were already on their phones.
Damn, I guess they were checking local vacancies.
“Please come to the conference room,” a woman called, and I vaguely recognised her as being from HR.
Macey huffed and stomped out, and I hurried after her. Staff jammed into the conference room, and I saw four people sitting at a table at the front.
“Sorry to call you all here today, but the hospital has been declared bankrupt…” That’s all I needed to hear. Crap, I was out of a job effective immediately. Some staff were being kept on while the hospital closed, but the rest of us had to grab our stuff and leave.
Fuck my life.
???
“Pour me another,” I said to the bartender. He looked me over, and I knew he was checking my sobriety.
“Bad day?”
“Sure as hell was. The hospital declared bankruptcy; therefore, I’m unemployed. There are jobs in the state I can apply for, but considering the number of staff who’ll also be applying, I’m looking at unemployment.”
“You gotta stay in state?”
Idly, I studied him. Good question.
“Don’t you have some sort of licence that lets you work in other states?” he continued.
“The Nurse Licensure Compact. Yup, I do have that,” I said, perking up. I pulled my phone out and began a search online. There were loads of other jobs outside Colorado. Moving wasn’t an issue for me. I wasn’t emotionally tied to Colorado. It had merely been a state where I could finish my Bachelor of Science in Nursing. Once I’d achieved that, I’d stayed and worked whileearningmy Doctor of Nursing Practice, which opened several career paths for me.
On checking my phone, I was a little surprised at how many jobs existed nationwide. I could afford to move. Most of my former colleagues couldn’t, and would be applying for the local ones, making the competition fierce. I could be magnanimous and leave them to apply… then again, the state with the most vacancies was the very place I’d run from—South Dakota.
“Thanks. Looks like a change of scenery might be in my future,” I said and sipped the drink in front of me. A small voice taunted me: I could go home to Clara. But there wasn’t a chance I’d return to SD. After all, he lived there, and I couldn’t imagine the scene if we crossed paths. I’d apply for jobs far away from SD.
Hell, I could move anywhere; SD didn’t need to be an option. Mind made up, I smiled. I wouldn’t return to SD and risk seeing him. Good for me!
Four weeks later
Frustrated, I scowled at the landlord, who was being an ass and pointing out things that needed repairing. Every time the asshole did, I pulled up a picture and proved the issue had existed before I moved in. The fucker was trying to keep my security deposit, and I wasn’t about to let him.
“That crack wasn’t there!” he insisted. Loudly, I sighed and showed him proof it had been.
“Are we going to continue playing this game?” I demanded as his eyes roamed the apartment, looking for something else to accuse me of breaking.
“I’m not sure…” he began, and I cut him off.
“Look. I’m tired of this crap and need to hit the road soon. You’re being an ass, and I can prove that whatever you claim I did, I didn’t. I’ve more photos of everything that the previous tenant broke or damaged. Now we can keep going round in circles, or I’ll contact a lawyer and take this further. What do you want to do?”
His scowl descended again, and he scratched his chicken chest through a dirty wife-beater. “Fine. I’ll write you a check.”
“Nope. I paid cash, and my receipt proves that. I want cash back,” I replied.
“But I don’t have that amount on me!” he squealed.
“Then hit a bank and get it.” I folded my arms as he glowered, and I raised an eyebrow. That was a neat trick my adopted mom used to use on me, and I was glad I’d learnt it. The weasel squirmed before dashing out of my soon-to-be former apartment.
“I’ll be down in half an hour to collect!” I yelled.
“Leaving?” a woman asked, and I spotted a neighbour—Fiona.
