The walk was short and before long we were outside the Omega Center gates. Comprehension dawned in Nathan’s eyes, but he had the decency not to comment on my living situation.
“Iamsorry I can’t invite you in for coffee or something. The director would get the wrong idea if I brought an Alpha inside.”
Nathan cleared his throat. “We wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression. Thank you for letting me take you home. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re okay.”
I waved over my shoulder as I hurried up to the gate and entered my code to unlock it. I felt Nathan’s eyes on me the whole way. There would be plenty of time to analyze the events of the day, but first I needed to grill Steffi and see if she had any idea how my mother could have found me.
Maybe a shower first, I thought, catching a bit of Andrew and Gabriel’s lingering scents on my hair. An Alpha’s scent on me might actually cause Steffi a heart attack from excitement.
Chapter 7 - Nathan
Lisbeth calling me into her office didn’t fill me with the same amount of dread it used to. I’d spent my first three months in her lab convinced she was on the verge of replacing me at any moment, and while that fear lingered, it wasn’t as intense as before.
“Could you close the door?” she asked as I stepped into the room. Her window looked out onto another bleak January morning.
All the possibilities for a one-on-one, closed-door meeting flashed through my mind. But my first thought was she’d somehow discovered my obsession with Bridget. Perhaps I wasn’t as good at hiding my feelings as I thought. Had Bridget complained about me? If she had, I would be strangely proud of her.
“You don’t need to look so serious all the time,” Lisbeth joked. “Things are going well, lighten up a bit!”
“Things are going well,” I acknowledged. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
She settled back into her chair and surveyed me over the top of her thick, square glasses. Unlike me, she didn’t wear descenters in the lab, and her peppery rose scent permeated the room. “Partly, yes. Since we are seeing such strong initial results, I want to petition the IRB for an expansion cohort.”
“Do we have the material to add more subjects?” After the mold debacle, we were still recovering and trying to make up for lost ground.
“I’ll handle the supply issues.” Lisbeth waved her hand as if she were fanning away the difficulty. “If we can expand the study, it’ll help us prove the viability and bring the treatment to market faster. And the funders are highly incentivized to help us achieve that goal.”
I’d never had to deal with private funding before. Apparently, it made me uncomfortable, judging by the squirming in my stomach. “Wouldn’t it be better to finish the initial study with these ten subjects?”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Lisbeth’s voice went flat. “Nathan, I don’t think you realize the pressure I’m under here. The funders want to see a return on their investment, and an expansion cohort is the best and fastest way to do that. You don’t need to concern yourself with what's best for the study. That’s my job.”
“I don’t mean to overstep,” I said quickly. Lisbeth could be prickly if she thought someone was undermining her. Replacing someone who ‘thought they knew best’ was how I’d gotten my first leadership role in her lab. “What do you need from me?”
Lisbeth rewarded me with a smile. “Two things. First, I need you all to produce the documentation necessary for an expansion cohort. Work with Bridget on getting everything together as quickly as you can.”
“Of course,” I said, even as the squirming feeling intensified. Adding more subjects without knowing the long-term effects made me nervous. They’d only had a single injection. But, as Lisbeth said, it wasn’t my job to worry about that. “What’s the second thing?”
“Dr. Davis is throwing a fundraising gala Friday, and I’d like you to attend,” she said, peering at me over her glasses.“He wants to show off his research team to potential donors for future studies.”
I schooled my face into calm, even as my palms began to sweat. A gala, and its attendant crowds and forced social interactions, sounded like my personal hell.
“I’ll send out an email with the details,” she said and turned back to her computer. “Keep up the good work.”
Effectively dismissed, I plodded back to the lab. Anvi and Bridget were chatting as they ran an assay. Bridget and I made brief eye contact. Things had returned to normal after I escorted her home, but she seemed less guarded around me.
“I watched that movie you were talking about, the old one,” Anvi said, tapping her fingernails against the countertop. “The one about Philadelphia?”
“You watched The Philadelphia Story?” Bridget gasped, clutching her chest and looking delighted. “What did you think?”
Anvi wrinkled her nose. “I hated the ending. Why did she get back with her ex? She should’ve just been single and rich forever.”
Bridget laughed. “Because he’s Cary Grant! Did you like the rest of it, though?”
Anvi shrugged. “It was okay.”
Based on Bridget’s expression, this indifference was worse than if Anvi had excoriated the film from top to bottom. Her face fell before she caught herself and schooled her expression back into a smile. My heart contracted painfully.
“I thought Tracy and Mike should have ended up together,” I said without thinking. I immediately regretted it.
