Page 56 of Sinful in Scrubs

“Do you think you’d be available a week from signing?” she asked. She didn’t sound so certain that it was a good idea.

I started to say I’d be there, but I realized a week was too soon. I had to pack up and move, and find a place to live out there, and the list grew exponentially as I started to think about it. The idea of packing up and moving was one thing. The reality of it was quite another. I could give notice and leave Manhattan Memorial in a week, but could I wrap up my job and take care of everything I needed at the apartment in that time?

“Could we say two weeks?” I countered.

“Two weeks sounds perfect. And you’re good with the compensation package as discussed?”

“I had some thoughts…”

The discussion continued as we finalized the negotiation of my package. I was fully pleased with the deal I was getting. After all, not only would I be getting out of New York, but I would also be getting away from all the random bullshit that had become my life recently.

By the time the call ended, I felt completely energized. I couldn’t wait. I scanned my gaze around my apartment—packing up and getting out of here was going to be easy enough. I didn’t see any reason to move my furniture. It was all basic. I could probably lease this place out furnished for even more money than I could if it were empty. I didn’t plan on selling my apartment. After all, I owned it, and with its prime location in the city, I shouldn’t have any problems getting a tenant.

I just needed a couple of extra-large suitcases for my clothes. I paused in front of my bookshelf. Maybe a box or two for the books. But those I could ship. I would call Sylvia Pink back. She could probably even give me a recommendation of where I could ship my belongings. I could probably even have them shipped directly to the hospital since I didn’t have a place to live yet.

It took twenty-four hours before the email arrived with the official offer. I signed it and sent it back immediately. The countdown to my leaving New York had begun. Two weeks. I was going to be out of here in two weeks.

I let work be work and not the focal point of my life. If I saw Marcus, I barely acknowledged him. He barely acknowledged me. It was as if we had had some kind of massive fight and breakup—but there hadn’t been anything. We had simply been together one moment, and then we clearly weren’t the next.

I had daydreams of waltzing into James’s office, literally dancing with twirls up on my tippy toes, and announcing that I quit. I needed to officially give them some notice, and I felt a week was enough, and then I would have a week free from work of just packing and moving. Only, somehow, that’s not what happened. And with each passing day, I realized I was running out of time.

I would just have to accept that it was how this particular interlude of my life went—as long as Kevin didn’t interfere, I thought I would be fine.

Unfortunately, even without having to deal with Kevin’s presence, he was interfering with this move. I had two small storage closets in the hallway—one I used for linens and backup bathroom supplies, and the other was where I stored out-of-season items and those random things I didn’t need in my everyday life but inevitably needed at some point in time.

“What the hell?” I muttered as I came across another box of Kevin’s things in that closet. The man had tucked away various items around the apartment in places I had barely even thought of. The storage under my bed was mostly his stuff. I had thought these were things that had left with him when we broke up.

I lifted up another trinket that he would have corrected me and called a collectible and moved aside a few comic books. He had been convinced that these were not wastes of time but were actually investments. To me, they looked like toys.

Well, he’d have to come and get them. Only, I wasn’t speaking to him, and I certainly didn’t want to reach out and let him know what was going on before I turned in my final resignation.

That moment did not feel like the victory I had hoped it would. I didn’t dance into James’s office. I walked in like the defeated person I was.

“Emma, glad you’re here. I wanted to?—”

“Tell me about another mark on my permanent record?” Inside, I wanted to snap at him and be snarky and bitter and have the tongue of a viper. But I was beaten. He and Kevin had won. I shook my head. “Look, James, I’m just here to let you know I’ll be emailing my official resignation letter. I didn’t want it to be a surprise and wanted to tell you in person.”

“This is unexpected,” he started.

“Really? Cause it certainly feels like you’ve been trying to push me out. And the way everyone has been reacting to the presentation I was blindsided into having to make, yeah, that’s all felt like a coordinated effort to get me out. Well, I wanted to let you know it worked.”

“That certainly wasn’t my intention, Emma. You’re a good doctor, and we’ve valued your contributions here at Manhattan Memorial. I’m sorry if you misinterpreted any of my words or actions as trying to force you out.”

I shook my head. His words weren’t even a proper apology. “Intended or not, that’s what’s happened. I have to be in L.A. in a week. So, if you don’t mind, I back-dated the resignation by a few days. I would like to take the holiday time owed to me for the rest of my time here, and then of course, I do expect any back-owed holiday pay to be included on my last paycheck.”

“I don’t know if that’s going to be possible,” James said. He didn’t want to pay me for my due compensation.

“I’ll be sure to attach the page from my initial hiring contract that outlines that the hospital will compensate me with any unpaid vacation time with the email that has my official resignation.”

He let out a heavy breath and adjusted his necktie. “I’ll see that the proper information gets passed along to the HR department. I’ll take you off the schedule beginning tomorrow. For what it’s worth, I really am sorry to see you leave this way.”

The look on James Collins’s face made me feel like I was a coward and running away. And maybe I was.

But I was running away to L.A. Sunshine, beaches, and so much traffic. I was going to have to buy a car.

26

MARCUS

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