“Definitely on Tuesdays,” Olivia said as they sat down, and she proceeded to douse her tacos with the bottle of hot sauce. “For whatever reason, spicy food settles my stomach, too.”
As Olivia took a bite, winced from the heat, and quickly took another, Jessica enjoyed a decidedly more temperate bite of shrimp. She tried to decide whether making a throwaway comment—It’ll all be worth it in the end—would prompt a line of questions she definitely didn’t want to answer.
No kids of my own. Stepkids. Sort of.
We met while I was in school.
He’s in biomedical technology, too.
His name? Um . . .
At that moment, however, Philip walked by the table as he scanned for a place to sit.
“The Area 51-ers shouldn’t commandeer the community seating area the way they do,” Olivia said. “No one else feels comfortable taking any of the open chairs.”
“There certainly doesn’t seem to be a lot of cross-pollination between departments around here.”
“You’d be surprised,” Olivia said. “Everyone works such long hours, paths cross more than you might imagine. And then there’s the coed, interdepartmental softball team. They get pretty rowdy after the games. From what I hear, one of the clinical research coordinators and a new girl in marketing ended up getting jiggy in a car outside a local tavern.”
Jessica snorted. “That has to violate something in the Cancura nondisclosure documents.”
“Only if they were talking about work, which I doubt very much.”
Jon had said Olivia was cool, smart, funny, and great at her job when she wasn’t puking her brains out. Jessica wished she didn’t have to keep her distance. But anything else was just too risky, at least for the time being.
“I feel sorry for Philip,” she said, watching as he resigned himself to standing with his tray balanced on the corner of a nearby counter.
“He’s been kind of lost since Graham left the company,” Olivia said.
“Who’s Graham?”
“His BFF from data analysis.”
“I thought the idea was to insulate everyone from the outside world, keep them so fat and happy they’ll never leave.”
“A Silicon Valley start-up dazzled him with the promise of sunshine and stock options. Jon was peeved, to say the least.” Olivia took another bite of her taco.
The comment was perfectly timed given that Kate, whom Jon apparently placated at all costs to keep her from being poached, had just made her way from the line into the dining area.
“Komodo Kate,” Olivia whispered conspiratorially.
Jessica stifled a giggle. “Komodo . . . ?”
“Her bite is notoriously lethal,” she said.
“I’m aware,” Jessica said. “I questioned her on something entirely legit given our positions and responsibilities, and she didn’t take it well.”
“By all accounts she’s a brilliant scientist, and Jon respects and depends on her more than almost anyone, but she’s definitely got the ego to go with.”
“I guess it’s comforting to know she’s equally brusque to others.”
“Typically straight guys who feel compelled to mansplain in her attractive presence,” Olivia said.
They watched as the crowd parted, and a prime seat materialized the moment Kate arrived at the Area 51 tables.
“You don’t suppose it’s possible Jon has a soft spot for Kate that goes beyond his . . . professional admiration, do you?” Jessica asked, hoping she sounded nonchalant.
“Around here, nothing surprises me,” Olivia said. “But I do know one thing for sure: Jonathan Wright is completely devoted to his wife.”
“That’s so sweet,” Jessica said, hoping she sounded sincere—and wondering what Olivia would think when the truth finally came out.
Chapter Fifteen
HOLLY
Rebranding is rebirth.
—“How I Lied about My Name and Discovered My Truth,” a TED Talk by Jon M. Wright
Arriving later than planned at Village Hall, Holly parked quickly and hurried inside, eyes watering from the cold north wind. Brian wouldn’t be joining her, because one of his daughters had a stomach bug and Nancy was stuck in traffic. Despite the awkwardness that had followed his recent declaration, Holly missed having him by her side. She still trusted him—and trust was suddenly in very short supply.
Seeing the Yadaos on the right-hand side in the exact same seats as before, Holly sat on the left, in the front row. The seats were sparsely occupied. Since the board of trustees would not be taking testimony for or against Holly’s issue, simply voting yes or no on last month’s board of appeals’ recommendation, she and Brian hadn’t bothered to rally the troops again. The seven trustees were talking quietly on the short dais, shuffling papers and sipping water as they prepared to begin. Something about seeing the backs of heads as she came down the aisle triggered another unbidden memory of her wedding day, and she scarcely noticed when the board president gaveled the meeting to order.
The memory this time was of her dad’s expression when he glanced into the sanctuary to confirm Jack was in place by the altar, standing next to his best man, Craig, who in the years since had disappeared from their lives. The look on her father’s face was of cheerful reassurance, but in his eyes she’d seen sadness, a final recognition that it was too late to steer his daughter to safety.
Grandpa Walt and Nana Charlotte adored Jack now because his money and success had buoyed not only their daughter but themselves. Their shares of Cancura stock, purchased on the first day of the IPO at a rock-bottom price, had year after year exploded in value, allowing for an early and comfortable retirement with two elegant homes completely paid for. But did they remember what they’d originally thought about Jonny Wright? Despite his lofty-sounding given name of Jonathan Mitchell Wright III, he was from a perfectly ordinary family in a perfectly ordinary part of Bloomington, Indiana, the only child of an insurance salesman father and a stay-at-home mom. Jonny himself was an on-again, off-again student who dabbled in community college before finally grinding out a BS in science at IU and suddenly deciding to become a doctor.
To this day, Holly had no idea
