Prologue
He inhaled deeply as the harpist began to play Pachelbel’s Canon in D. As the sun sank below the horizon, the soft plucking swelled over the sound of the waves crashing onto the beach. A hidden gem enclave, Miami’s Mid-beach provided an idyllic setting for the wedding. The day he would stand before God and his family and vow to love, honor and cherish the woman who’d changed his life completely.
Between the narrow expanse of dense foliage surrounding the boardwalk, the love of his life emerged.
Mena Nix.
Barefoot, she stepped down tentatively on the sand. Arm looped casually in her father’s, she blessed him with the most brilliant smile. His heart skipped a beat. Dozens of their closest friends and family stood between the rows of white folding chairs. Cameras flashed as she passed down the aisle.
Mena was breathtaking. The white strapless gown clung to her svelte curves. From the moment he met her, he’d known he would never be the same. His only desire was to make her happier than she ever thought was imaginable.
Mena’s eyes locked onto his as he gave a nod to her father, Caleb Olivier. Caleb gave a low grunt as he stepped away from his only daughter. Mena pressed her soft hands within his. Her eyes danced with excitement and pure unadulterated love. A love he probably didn’t deserve.
The minister’s words faded in his ears as he mouthed “I love you” to her. Mena giggled slightly, then blew him a kiss before responding softly, “I love you more.”
Few men were lucky enough to find their soulmate. The one woman who gave life a new perspective and direction, a reason to be the best man he could be. He was lucky to have found Mena. Lucky that she saw the good in him and loved him in return. He vowed right then and there that he would never take her for granted. She was the most important person in the world to him. He would spend every minute of every day making sure she knew it.
“… do you take Mena to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?” The minister’s words jolted him from his thoughts.
He squeezed her hands. “I do.”
“Mena, do you take—”
A knock tapped lightly on the door.
Dr. Michael Marsh reached absently across the desk for his mouse and pressed pause on the video playing on the laptop. He stole one last glance at Mena. The camera focused on her beautiful face, caught in a slight smile as she stared back at him. She would look at him that way again. He would make sure of it.
Closing the laptop, Michael called out, “Come in.”
His assistant poked her head in his office. “Sorry to disturb you, Dr. Marsh, but your two o’clock appointment is here early. Should I send him in or ask him to wait?”
Michael gestured for her to send him in.
She nodded, then disappeared for a moment before reappearing with a man behind her. “Dr. Tufa, please go inside. Dr. Marsh is expecting you.”
Grabbing the laptop, Michael slipped the bronze key from the pocket of his white lab coat and unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk. Resting the laptop on top of the wedding photo album, he closed the drawer and pulled against the handle to check that the automatic locking device had triggered.
Dropping the key back in his pocket, he looked up as Dr. Tufa entered, closing the door behind him. Michael leaned back in his chair, appraising the man as he strode across the room with an air of confidence and defiant swagger. A demeanor not unlike his own. Guess it came with the M.D.
Michael had researched the Ethiopian doctor. Dr. Tufa could single-handedly pave the way for an expansion of Michael’s human clinical trials with one generous donation.
Michael stood, reaching an arm across the desk to shake Dr. Tufa’s hand. “Good to finally meet you in person.”
“Likewise,” Dr. Tufa responded, cool and distant.
Michael said, “I’m surprised at your interest in my research. It’s not in your field of expertise, Dr. Tufa.”
Dr. Tufa raised an eyebrow, a slight challenge in his gaze. “I’ve read the articles on your breakthrough protocols in several medical journals. Embryonic stem cells are the hallmark of the work you are doing. Isn’t that correct?”
Embryonic stem cells were more than the hallmark, they were the single most important aspect of his work. Without the stem cells, his protocol wouldn’t exist. But stem cell therapies still garnered scrutiny. Regulation of obtaining and using stem cells was Draconian and excessive, stymieing his ability to expand his human clinical trials to more patients.
Moving to the Rakestraw Blake Center in the Aerie Islands had solved half of his problems. The governmental oversight of medical advancements in the tiny island nation was liberal and relaxed, allowing cutting edge medical breakthroughs to flourish.
Now he just needed more financial backers to procure a continuous source of stem cells for his research.
“Yes, that is correct,” Michael said.
“My family owns the largest portfolio of cryobanks in the world. We specialize in the storage of embryos for hundreds of thousands of couples desperately trying to have children. We also recognize that many couples will be burdened with the decision of what to do with excess embryos. While destruction is always an option, we counsel couples on alternative methods that exist. And we go the extra step to provide rewards to those who choose these alternative methods,” Dr. Tufa explained.
