Where I starve myself, she binges. I know this because I like to eat vicariously through her. My stomach cramps, all that burger mush threatening to regurgitate. I swallow down and clear my throat.
“Excuse me, are you Professor Lin?”
I jump as a man in an all-black ensemble stops beside our table. He sounds gruff. Weathered. He’s a skinhead with tattoos wrapping around his neck. Very tall with a Viking warrior’s build.
“I’m not working in the university anymore, but yes, that’s me.” I quickly wipe my hands on my pants then hold one out to him.
He shakes it woodenly. He doesn’t acknowledge my friend’s existence at all. It’s like she’s invisible.
“I’m Ingar Lunden, I am the acquisitions director of Moriarty Organics. We would be honored if you would come work with us.”
My brows knit together at this. As far as acceptance notices go, this one was very unconventional.
“Uuh, of course! I’d love to work with you guys.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. I don’t remember what companies and universities I applied for, but Moriarty Organics was a name you couldn’t miss in my profession. It’s one of the biggest companies out there who claim to manufacture “all-natural” remedies. There’s always some bad press about them, but underneath all that is a professional milestone I coveted. Working with them as a researcher is peak achievement when you’re a botanist.
What was so important about me that a director had to personally come here for me? An email would have been fine. This seems very…suspicious.
Crystal kicks me under the table, and it is enough of a warning for me to get my guard up. She’s wary of this hulking man, too. I don’t blame her. Who wouldn’t be?
“That’s fantastic.” His face says anything but fantastic. “The reason for my presence here is I have a time-sensitive project I would like you to lookinto—immediately.”
My gaze flicks toward Crystal and her eyes are telling me to refuse. I’m uncertain, but my desperation to leave my situation wins. I want to have a better life for myself away from Mother’s grasp. This is my chance.
Ingar sees the look in my eyes. He knows he has me hooked.
“Let’s speak somewhere more private.” I tell him, folding my napkin and throwing it on the table.
Crystal makes it clear I’m crazy for agreeing to such an abrupt job acceptance from a clear grifter. I’m not swayed by her. I know it when someone knows what they’re talking about. Ingar sounds too well-versed with botany to be pretending. Plus, what will they get out of me? I’m worth next to nothing with a professor’s salary. Mother would rather gouge her eyes out than spend a dime for ransom.
“We’re going on an expedition in a few days. The edge of Tierra del Fuego, there’s an untouched island there with flora affected by insular gigantism. We’ve been keeping an eye on it for months. We’re gathering a few discreet experts who could be of great addition to our team. Your accolades speak for themselves, Professor.” He talks in a very matter-of-fact tone.
I’d been pursingmy lips, crossing my arms over my chest when he spoke. I’m convinced he isn’t lying about the job, but there’s an air of danger around him that makes me question his motives.
“I would need more info regarding the work before I accept.”
“Of course, ask away.”
“Any pictures, documents for me to look through?”
He shakes his head. “All information is confidential until you sign the NDA. After that,” he pulls out a folder with my name on it. He slams it on the coffee table of my home. “Your list of commitments and contract.”
I ball my hands into fists. I feel oddly coerced. Like he’s going to hurt me if I decline the job.
My eyes narrow at him. Maybe I’m extra wary of him because of the tattoos? Mother doesn’t like tattoos. She thinks they are dirty and disrespectful to one's body. She also thinks they belong in a cult that worships an evil god—whatever that means. I know Mother’s views are extreme with regards to many things, and it has unfortunately trickled down to me. I’m trying to be better—more open-minded, but like my eating habits, it’s tough to change a life-long habit.
I need to stop thinking about Mother and be my own person…
He slides the NDA over to me.
I read it a few times. It seems harmless, just Moriarty protecting their brand. I click my pen and immediately sign it.
“Let’s see it.”
I sense relief in him when he releases his breath. He hands me the folder and I carefully read through everything. Page by page, word by word that I notice it’s missing page six. From five,it skips to seven. I want to ask him about it, but it must just be a misprint…right?
“I feel like I’m in a clandestine movie right now.” I blurt as I flip through the pages.
His eyes bore into mine. “It seems that way, yes?”
