“It’s good to see you,” she said, after a quality kiss.
“You have no idea,” he said. “But what’s with Callie?”
“She thinks it’s her job to be suspicious of everybody. I guess we were both scarred by Dylan.”
“She couldn’t possibly think there’s anything wrong with my intentions?”
“Of course not.” She kissed him again, thinking he looked, smelled, and tasted very fresh for having gotten off a red-eye. He’d probably already gone to his hotel to shave, shower, and brush his teeth. “Also, the office space may literally be an issue.”
Trip laughed. “That’s what’s bugging her? Well, if it will put her mind at ease, she’s more than welcome to have it.”
“She doesn’t want it herself. We’re interviewing marketing directors, and that might be a useful perk to offer.”
“Well, that’s fine, too. Use it however you want. We can get more space on this floor if you need it.”
“But where will you work?”
Trip lifted her chin. “Baby, I’m not the important one here. You are.”
The phone on her desk trilled. She tugged on the cord until it was close enough to pick up.
“Your coffee and your next interview have arrived, Miss Robinson,” said Sandro. “May I send them in?”
“One minute,” said Lark, hanging up and sliding off Trip’s lap. “How long are you in town?”
“Just until tomorrow, so we’d better make it count.”
“I’m busy all day, unfortunately.”
“Me too. Dinner in Santa Monica? Walk on the beach?”
“Deal,” Lark said, kissing him one more time and showing him to the door.
Neither he nor Callie acknowledged each other as he left.
Chapter Twenty-Three
JESSICA
Always stay the course.
—“How I Lied about My Name and Discovered My Truth,” a TED Talk by Jon M. Wright
Now that a team of Cancura techs was working on-site to troubleshoot the performance of the Revelate in a hospital environment, Jessica was winging back and forth between Omaha and Chicago. One day, she was in Omaha, and the next she was back at headquarters triaging tasks that seemed only to increase in number no matter how much work she did remotely. The pace and the promised payoff were exhilarating—if only she didn’t feel like a human pinball, hitting spinners and bumpers and dropping into kick-out holes. She hoped she was headed for a flipper and not the drain.
The advisory boards Jessica had formed per her job description, during her first weeks on the job, were either deadly boring or further unfocused her view of the big picture. Particularly the client-experience board, of which Kate and Arjun were cochairs.
How could she have missed that they were a pair? They were usually together, agreed on everything, and, when they were in the same room, were always within arm’s reach even though they never actually touched—not at work, anyway.
Watching them made Jessica wonder what people would say about the body language between her and Jon when they found out.
If they ever found out.
She was starting to wonder about that almost as often as she thought about the Revelate’s alleged inability to detect the one cancer for which it had FDA approval.
“The fundamental problem is that AHS wants the Revelate to do something it was never truly designed to do,” said Arjun.
“Shouldn’t a test that identifies precursors to a disease also be able to confirm when the actual disease has manifested?” asked Jessica.
“Not necessarily,” Arjun said. “Nanotechnology, by its very nature, is strictly targeted and infinitesimally precise.”
“We weren’t trying to reinvent a process that already exists,” Kate said flatly.
“There have to be modifications we can make,” Jessica said, hearing a pleading note in her voice.
“We aren’t in the business of performing parlor tricks for some hospital exec who needs to assuage an overcautious board,” Kate added.
“We are investing our time, research, and money in the discovery of formerly undetectable proteins, as well as antibody, DNA, and RNA fragments,” Arjun said, slightly more diplomatically and definitely playing the good cop role. “Not working backward.”
“That’s our mandate from on high,” Kate said.
Jessica rubbed her temples. “Meaning from Jon?”
They nodded in unison.
Jessica willed herself to focus on a particularly complicated cost-benefit analysis of multiple hardware parts suppliers during her next meeting, which was with the finance committee.
Three-quarters of the way through the discussion, Philip appeared outside the conference room window, as though instinct had told him he was missing a gathering of his tribe.
Lorna, the chief financial officer, waved him in. “I asked Phil to brief us on the financial ramifications of transferring the production of gold nanowire from Tarius in Palo Alto to Deacon, here in Illinois.”
Phil, as Lorna called him, brushed his hair out of his eyes and stepped tentatively into the room. He fumbled open a red binder and began to rattle off facts and figures in his oddly deep monotone.
Jessica lost track almost immediately as her mind went back to the meeting with Kate and Arjun. How would she address client concerns when the same issues became even more pronounced once new tests came online? Why was Philip the only person at Cancura who seemed willing, however reluctantly, to acknowledge a potential problem?
Without looking up from his notebook, he stopped as abruptly as he began and then stood there as if waiting to be dismissed.
“A very succinct summary,” Lorna said, looking at him appreciatively. “Thank you for taking on that little side project.”
“I had the time to do it,” he said, eyes still downcast.
“It sounds like there are multiple benefits to changing suppliers, once we determine the right time to do so,” Jessica said. “If there are no further thoughts or comments, I think we can adjourn.”
As everyone stood to leave, she asked Philip, “Do you have a second?”
“Can you stop by my office, Phil?” Lorna asked, collecting her papers, electronics, and water bottle.
He nodded noncommittally.
“I just need a minute,” Jessica said, wondering if she’d interrupted plans between yet another stealth couple that she and everyone else had failed to identify.
“What did you want to
