of it."
"I will." I move quickly through the building, my rage building with every step I take. When I get to the ballroom, I scan the room for the table several of the board members are at.
I grab an empty seat from another table and spin it so it's backward. I sit behind Dr. Nelson and the other major influencer on the board, Dr. Petri.
"Gentlemen," I say and pat their backs.
They turn and kiss my ass like they always do.
I hold my hand up. "I've got a situation I need your immediate help with."
"Oh?" Dr. Nelson turns in his chair more.
"I assume you appreciate—no, let's cut the bullshit. I know you don't want to lose any of my support for this project or future ones."
Dr. Petri scrunches his forehead. His voice crackles. "Of course not. What can we do for you?"
I point at Dr. Nelson. "You convinced the board not to allow the new treatment for children with leukemia to start until the new year. You're going to have an emergency board meeting right now and override this decision, or I'm not only pulling all my funding, but I'm also going to get up on the stage with a microphone and tell everyone in this room the situation."
"What situation is that?"
"A little girl is dying without the treatment, and I'm sure other children are, too. And you're the guy allowing her to die."
"I've done no—"
"You are."
"There are logistics for treatment. We have to receive the medication."
"It's in the hospital. I've confirmed it."
His eyes turn to slits. "From whom?"
"None of your business. Your decision is stopping the treatment. So fix this immediately, or you'll see I don't make threats. I implement them."
His face turns red, and he scowls.
Dr. Petri clears his throat. He looks across the table. "Roy. Peter. Get Jenson and Hanover behind you. Board room in fifteen minutes." He scoots out of his chair. "I'll gather the others."
"Why?" Peter asks.
"Emergency meeting. Don't be late so we can get this over with." He walks off.
I lean into Dr. Nelson's ear. "If you fuck this up, I'm taking it personally." I pat him on the back again and walk off.
When the members start to leave, I follow them and wait outside the door.
I pace the hallway but not for long. Five minutes later, the door opens. Dr. Nelson sneers. "You got what you wanted."
"Send notice to the pediatric ward."
"Now?"
"Yes, now," I growl.
He sighs, takes out his phone, and sends an email. "Happy?"
"With your greedy ass?"
He glares at me. "I'd like to get back to my evening now."
I refrain from punching him and go down to the billing department. An older woman with blonde hair and oversized blue glasses is at the counter. She smiles. "Can I help you?"
"I'm here to pay off an account."
"Name?"
"Abby Barello. Her mother's name is Jasmine."
She types quickly, and her eyes widen. "How much would you like to pay toward it?"
"The balance."
Her expression turns sympathetic. "Sir, it's almost one point two million dollars."
I pull out my wallet and put down my card. "Please run it in full."
She swallows hard. "The full amount?"
"Yes."
She quickly types, swipes my card in the machine, and surprise appears on her face when the approval pops up on the screen. A stack of papers print, and she grabs them. She pulls the bottom page out. "I assume you don't want to go over each charge?"
I shake my head. "No, ma'am."
She puts an X on a line. "Sign here, please."
I sign then give her my business card. "Please change the billing for Abby to me. Here's my information."
"Yes, sir."
"Thank you." I turn and go back to the eighth floor. I find the room Abby and Jasmine are in. The door is closed, but the curtain is open. It's dark, aside from a small, dim light. Jasmine lies on the bed. Abby is curled up asleep. Jasmine stares at the wall in front of her, wiping her face.
My heart beats harder as I watch them. Abby has to lose her fever for forty-eight hours to start the treatment. There isn't any way for me to make it happen. I'm not sure what to do to help Jasmine.
My mom appears at some point and puts her arm around me. "I heard you pissed some board members off."
I grunt. "That's why you're the one who deals with them and not me."
"You did good. And I'm still the nice one," she teases.
"Thank God for that," I mutter.
We stay silent for a while, watching through the glass.
"Have you talked