“First, Henrik Bergland, a former director-general of the World Health Organization, will be joining the Cancura board of directors. Second, we have almost completed phase two testing of specially designed nanoparticles that are sending back an amplified signal when they bind to cancer cells in the brain.”
Jon looked directly at her as the room filled with excited whispers.
“I’m counting on all of you to keep this confidential until we’re ready to make an official announcement,” Jon said. “But if all goes according to plan, the Revelate will be enabled to detect brain cancer markers, including glioma and neuroblastoma, by the end of the year.”
“That’s definitely great news,” Randy said, now looking reluctant to continue pressing Jon. “But—”
“Randy, this is the first time we’ve allowed people outside a lab to operate our machines. I think the next step is to move a team of our techs on-site to analyze performance in a working environment.”
Bill Nelson, the CEO, cleared his throat, quieting the room. “We have faith in Cancura, Jon, but I’m wondering if we were somewhat premature in bringing the machines into a clinic setting. For both our reputation and yours.”
“The FDA certainly doesn’t think so, Bill,” Jon said. “But if this isn’t right for you, that’s fine. We’ll go to the people who are already number one and looking to retain their spot. Or we can help you knock them off their perch.”
The CEO was a cool customer, but Jessica realized he’d stumbled into an awkward position—a sales negotiation in front of his most trusted staff. She wasn’t a mind reader, but she had a sense that the room was on Jon’s side, and nobody wanted to be part of the team that passed up medical technology that made biopsies and spinal taps look like diagnostic tools from the Middle Ages.
But why hadn’t Jon or Marco mentioned to her either the new brain cancer detection advances or that Cancura had other big suitors besides AHS?
“We certainly don’t need to make any hasty decisions,” said Bill. “After all, the Revelate pilot program isn’t replacing anything just yet. We’re looking forward to having your techs on-site and continuing our great relationship.”
“It’s not lying,” Jon said, working his way down the buttons of Jessica’s blouse. “They just needed some incentive to choose their own best interest.”
“But there isn’t another company that wants the Revelate?”
“There are many,” he said, reaching the last button and gently pulling the sleeves over her arms. “All I have to do is make a call.”
“What about Dr. Bergland?”
“We’re in advanced talks, and I expect a favorable conclusion.”
As appealing as Jon’s confidence was, she wished she felt as comfortable as he did about playing so fast and loose with AHS. “What about the comparative test results between the Revelate and—”
Jon kissed the small of her back. “Don’t worry, my love. AHS was well aware there would be a shaking-out period.”
“Well, they were definitely feeling shaky,” Jessica said, enjoying a rather pleasant quivering sensation herself.
He unfastened her bra. “Which is why you’re there to hold their hands until they’re comfortable implementing. Lucky bastards.”
“I had no idea we were so far along with brain cancer markers.”
“I’m full of surprises,” he whispered, unzipping her skirt.
“I’m afraid that—”
“You need to learn to live a little more dangerously, Jessie.”
“Aren’t we doing that right now?” she asked as he led her to the living room couch in the Cancura corporate apartment. “What if someone comes here tonight?”
He slipped off her panties as she raised her hips. “Someone is definitely going to come tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-One
HOLLY
Don’t let people use your history to predict your future.
—“How I Lied about My Name and Discovered My Truth,” a TED Talk by Jon M. Wright
“I think we’re ready. Do you?”
Brian looked at Holly and nodded. “All systems go.”
She leaned back and let herself laugh. “I thought this day would never come.”
“I had faith,” he said, before smiling and sipping his coffee.
They were sitting at Holly’s kitchen table with their laptops open and paperwork scattered all around. Holly’s own coffee was down to the dregs, and she was resisting the urge to cut off a second piece of the amazing apple strudel Brian had brought all the way from Bennison’s in Evanston. The kids were back in school after winter break, Jack was out of town, and Galenia was shopping and picking up the dry cleaning. Holly and Brian had the place to themselves.
For propriety’s sake, it would have been better to meet in a coffee shop, but Holly wasn’t sure how much she cared about that anymore.
The Hay Bale Ball would take place in three weeks, and thanks as much to Brian’s efforts as her own, everything was set for a drama-free evening. They had given a final head count to the caterer (slightly padded to account for any last-minute additions); sent in the liquor order; delivered the down payment for the bartenders; confirmed the tables, chairs, and centerpieces; printed programs and place cards; booked the jazz band; and created a schedule with duties for Horse Stability volunteers, all while attending to a host of other essential details she’d already forgotten. Every year, she thought the job would become more routine, but somehow each time was just as hard as the last.
“We sold eight percent more tickets than last year,” Brian said. “I’d call that respectable growth.”
“Very respectable growth,” said Holly.
“Jack’s idea to put our challenge with the Yadaos front and center seems to be paying off,” he said. “It’ll be ironic if I’m able to solve it before the party. I think the thing to do is find something Larry wants. He’s a real estate developer, you know.”
She tried hard not to let anything show, but apparently the sour look on her face after hearing Jack’s name was too obvious to ignore.
“What’s wrong, Holly?”
She opened her mouth, closed it. Thought, Don’t tell him. But suddenly it was either that or she would burst
