“As a general rule, don’t lie. Especially when you’re talking to someone who’s an expert in communications. You’re not any good at it. And I’m very good at spotting liars.”
Her face falls. “I’m sorry,” she says.
This time, it’s not a question. Thank God. I definitely couldn’t have stomached an apology question.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s try this again. You know about the McPherson Fellowship?”
She nods.
“I assume you know how prestigious it is?”
She nods.
“For Max.” I deliberately use his first name. Not his title. He doesn’t intimidate me. And she needs to know that. “And for the university.”
For a second there, it looks like she’s about to correct me on the “Max” thing. Again. But I don’t give her the opportunity. “And for you.”
Her mouth snaps shut.
“Don’t you think it will look good on your resume? Having studied under the man who received the McPherson Fellowship?”
“Yes.” She nods. And then a burst of words comes out of her mouth so fast and furiously I feel like she’s been bottling them up. “He deserves this. He really does. He’s so brilliant. And the work he’s doing is groundbreaking. I just wish everyone could see and understand how important it is.”
I try not to roll my eyes at her dewy-eyed worship of Max.
With minions like this, maybe I should be thankful he’s not more arrogant.
“That’s all I want, too,” I say with exaggerated patience.
Gwen is nodding enthusiastically. “This kind of recognition would be huge for the entire field. And—”
“I’m going to stop you right there. You don’t need to sell me on the idea that he deserves to win this grant. You need to sell him on it.Weneed to sell him on it. And as enthusiastic as you are, the McPherson committee is not interested in you. They’re not interested in me. They want Max. So I need to talk to him. Because unless those soil samples contain proof of intelligent life outside of our galaxy, or the cure for cancer, or the answer to renewable energy, they are not more important than this meeting.”
Before Gwen can respond, I set my bag down on the counter and head for the clean room. I almost make it to the door to the little foyer outside the clean room, when Gwen bodily throws herself in front of it.
“I can’t let you go in there.”
“I don’t think you can stop me.”
“It’s locked.”
I glance down and see a keypad by the door and badge reader.
Yeah. It’s locked.
I’m not going to pretend I have mad skills as a pickpocket or anything. But I have four brothers. I’ve played a lot of keep-away in my life. And, locked or not, this place isn’t exactly as secure as Fort Knox. Gwen has her badge around her neck and it’s on one of those little retractable strings. I make a grab for the badge and have it in my hand and at the badge reader before she can stop me. The door clicks open.
“It’s not locked anymore.”
As I reach for the door handle, she squeals. “Oh my God! You’re going to get in so much trouble for that! I can’t believe you did that!”
I just shrug, not bothering to point out that my boss couldn’t care less. And since Ramsey’s boss is Clive, the man who begged me to do this job in the first place, I’m not too worried about the repercussions of using Gwen’s badge without her permission.
She pleads, “Please, don’t go in there. He will literally kill me.”
I pause, sigh deeply, and turn back to her. “He will literally kill you?”
“Yes.”
