Adam gave us a quiet update over the intercom, and the plane began to descend over the lights of L.A. Somewhere down there a car and driver would be waiting on a private runway. It would be a twenty minute drive to my hotel, and I’d spend the night working in the living room instead of sleeping in the Frette sheets or drinking the 2002 Cristal that Cheryl always made sure to have on ice in my room. All that luxury, and not a single person expecting me at any of it. Just the way I’d built it.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed a night in a hotel, instead of just passing the time there. Then again, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed a night anywhere.
This Charlie guy better be worth it. I had more on the line here than I’d ever risked—and I wasn’t talking about my portfolio.
2
CHARLIE
Two minutes. Two more minutes to finish configuring these sensor parameters and?—
“Charlotte.”
I jumped at Richard’s voice, nearly knocking over my coffee. Cold, I noticed as I steadied it. How long had I been working? The windows behind my workstation had gone dark. The rest of the lab was empty—had been for hours, probably. My phone showed nothing but the time. No missed calls, no texts. Just me and the hum of the equipment, same as every other night.
“Sorry to startle you.” He wasn’t. Richard Sterling never apologized for anything. At least, he never meant it. “But we need to talk.”
“Just give me one second to finish this.” My fingers flew over the keyboard, muscle memory taking over. I had set and reset these so many times, I could probably do it drunk. The Safety, Environmental, Acoustic, and Sensor Network prototype—SEAS—had consumed my life for the past three years, but after countless setbacks and breakthroughs, we were finally close to having something revolutionary. Something that might save someone’s life one day.
I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. “OK, what’s up?” I spun my chair around, plastering on a smile. Positive attitude, always. Mom’s voice in my head:You catch more flies with honey.
Richard’s face told me honey wasn’t going to help here.
He stood in the doorway of my lab, his Italian suit jacket buttoned, tie still perfect, even at six p.m.. At forty-five, he probably still turned some heads, just not mine. Silver threaded through his blond hair in just the right places and his ice-blue eyes were pretty ... but in a cold way. And they had been focused on me more and more lately, in ways that made me uncomfortable.
“The board meeting tomorrow morning has been moved up to eight.” His words were careful, measured as he stepped into my space. Even at this hour, his cologne lingered. “There will be some ... changes announced.”
The chill that ran down my spine had nothing to do with the lab’s aggressive air conditioning. The same air conditioning that kept my complex array of testing equipment at optimal temperature, their soft hums and occasional beeps the soundtrack to my endless hours here. “Changes?”
“I can’t discuss the details yet.” He moved closer, examining my computer screen over my shoulder. His eyes moved over the SEAS data the way they moved over quarterly reports—assessing, calculating. Three years of my life reduced to whatever dollar figure he’d assigned it. “But I want you to know that your work here ... it’s been noticed. By some very important people.”
Important people. Hopefully not the same important people who’d been promising funding and support for the past two years, but with conditions. With strings that would compromise the safety parameters I refused to budge on. Richard was alwaystrying to drum up funding, and was always more willing to compromise than I was.
“Richard—”
“Get some rest, Charlotte.” His hand brushed my shoulder as he straightened. A touch that lasted a second too long. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” He turned to leave, then paused in the doorway. “And ... I’m sorry.”
Sorry? Richard Sterling was apologizing?
My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and texted my best friend, Mia.
Charlie: Need a drink.
The response was immediate:
Mia: Corner booth at The Edison in 20. I’ll bring chocolate.
I didn’t smile, the sinking feeling in my stomach that told me Richard had made a decision that I wasn’t going to like was too strong, but damn I was grateful for Mia.
Charlie: Make it 30? I need to call Sarah.
Mia:
I flicked over to another app and soon Sarah’s sweet but tired face was filling my phone screen. It was two a.m. in London, but she’d always been a night owl, and she liked to talk to me at the end of my workday.
“Hello love, how was your day?”
Now I did smile, if I didn’t, I knew she’d worry. She’d been my mentor so long she was practically family now, and she always fussed over me. Which I sometimes needed, but never noticed until she did it.
