Page 32 of One Reckless Night

“A single minute?” I questioned.

“You know what I mean.”

“What’s up?”

Shawn sat and swiped through his iPad, pulling up a chart. “You remember that case we discussed last week? The one with the rapid cognitive decline?”

I leaned back in my chair. “Yeah. The genetic mutation. What about it?”

“Well, I’ve been working on the drug trial protocol. We’re targeting the mutation directly. It’s risky, but if it works, it could slow or even halt the progression.” Shawn looked at me, his face a mix of excitement and caution. “But we’re going to need FDA approval fast-tracking. And… well, I need your signature on the proposal.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Fast-tracking? You think they’ll bite?”

“They might,” Shawn said, leaning forward. “This isn’t just a niche case anymore. We’ve got three more patients showing similar symptoms. If this mutation is as widespread as I think it is, we could be looking at a new class of neurodegenerative diseases. The FDA won’t ignore that. And they like you. Your name on the trial would move mountains.”

I tapped my finger against the desk, thinking it over.

“This could be huge,” he said, his tone serious. “If we can slow the progression, it’ll change everything for these patients.”

I was still mulling the idea over when Clair waltzed into my office. Her usual upbeat, caffeine-fueled energy filled the room. “Hey, Jared,” she said, plopping down in the chair next to Shawn. She turned and looked at him with a smile. “Shawn.”

“Clair,” Shawn mumbled without making eye contact.

“Is everyone up early this morning?” I asked.

“Just wanted to let you know I’ll be spending the next few weeks working directly with Amelia. We’re combining labs.”

I frowned, leaning forward. “Why? I don’t want you off your cancer research.”

Clair waved a hand, dismissing my concern. “Amelia found some kind of connection between her TBI work and my cancer research. We’re going to start experimenting, see if we can find a crossover. It’s exciting, Jared. This could be big. She’s got a lot to offer. And even if we don’t find a connection, I want to learn from her. She’s so smart. Purposeful. I like her style. You’re never too old to learn something new.”

I felt a flicker of irritation to have my lab dynamics upset, but I kept my expression neutral. “Fine,” I said, nodding. “I trust your judgment. Keep me updated.”

Clair grinned, standing up. “Will do. Oh, and Jared? Try to get some sleep. You look like hell.”

She left, and Shawn raised his brows at me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Sounds like Amelia might be coming for your ‘mad scientist of the century’ crown.”

I wasn’t going to let him get to me. “She’s good,” I admitted, my tone begrudging. “But she’s not there yet.”

Shawn chuckled, shaking his head. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be the genius around here, you’re not giving her enough credit. She’s sharp, Jared. And she’s driven. That’s a dangerous combination. I don’t know if we can call her your protege, but the master may have finally met his match.”

“Doubtful,” I muttered.

“She’s pretty fucking brilliant.”

“I can’t argue with that,” I said absently. “I’d love to open her head and see what goes on in there. She’s an amazing researcher. She’s so driven. Dedicated. I don’t get it.”

Shawn’s smirk widened. “Why is she under your skin so much?”

I hesitated, debating how much to say. “I met her informally before she started here,” I admitted. “At the awards ceremony. I hit on her, and she didn’t appreciate it. It’s been tense between us since.”

Shawn raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing there was more to the story, but he didn’t push. “Ah, I see. You want to dissect her brain to find out why she’s the one woman on this planet who is immune to your charms.”

That wasn’t entirely true but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Whatever,” I said. “I’ve got enough shit on my plate. I don’t need to worry about stupid drama.”

He nodded. “You’re right. Bad weather’s on the way. You don’t need to add to the chaos.”

“Have you heard if it’s just a thunderstorm or are we getting a jumpstart on hurricane season?”

“I think it’s just a regular storm,” he said. “Phone hasn’t gone off with emergency alerts.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to write up a proposal for this trial. Do I have your support?”

“Write it up and I’ll review,” I said without committing.

Shawn left, leaving me staring out the window as the rain hit the glass. I needed sleep. I was getting all moony.