AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I told him I would sell to him—but I lied. I want to gut him. And I want to take the prototype to market as soon as possible.”
“Then let’s do it,” Allen said.
Their support was unanimous.
We somehow arranged to get hold of all our major investors throughout the course of the week, which was surely a sign of divine intervention. I relayed the ongoing positive results of the clinical trials to them, and I disclosed the details of what had happened with Clive and the security breach. Every single investor agreed to fund the more intense research in order to stage a rapid launch. Every single one of them said they were still one hundred percent on board. These were the people who’d believed in me from the beginning.
I feared moving forward so quickly, but I had faith—faith in myself, faith in my lab and its workers, and faith in the technology. Clive’s threats had made me feel as if the tide was turning against me, but maybe the opposite was true. Maybe the universe was trying to protect me. Perhaps this was a message that it was time to move forward and that I needed to be brave.
I read a text from Gabe just before I went out to the press conference. The thing we talked about—all set, it read.
I shuddered, knowing it had something to do with Clive but wondering exactly what he meant.
And by the way, I miss you.
Now I shuddered with pleasure.
I miss you, too. I flushed as I hit send, hoping my text pleased him. I felt exposed by my own honesty—where were my microbes and lab slides when I needed them?
Gabe wrote back immediately. I like it when you play nice, babe.
I clutched the phone to my chest.
Hannah smoothed my hair and dotted some more lip gloss on me. With everything going on at the lab, I hadn’t spent much time with her. “You look perfect.” She raised her eyebrow at me, critically scanning my face, taking in every detail. “You’re glowing. Are you just excited about the patch? Did you get a new moisturizer? Or—”
I raised my hand to stop her, cutting her short. “I’ll tell you later. Or not,” I said under my breath, as I headed downstairs.
“I heard that!” she yelled.
I ignored her, taking deep breaths to calm down. I did not enjoy public speaking, but the press conference had an important purpose. I needed to be brave.
Timmy opened t
he doors for me, nodding encouragingly. The light was bright outside, and a crowd of reporters and cameras were gathered. Microphones were set up at a podium, and I strode to it. I could hear my breathing, which reminded me of the other night with Gabe. That thought brought a smile to my lips, and as soon as I felt it, I had the courage to speak.
“As many of you know, Paragon has been developing a biomedical prototype for many years. What many of you don’t know is what our prototype is. Today is the day you find out.”
I cleared my throat as murmurs spread throughout the crowd. “Paragon has created a revolutionary patch designed to scan human cells and detect diseases and mutations…instantly, painlessly, and for a fraction of the cost of normal tests. I’ve called you here today to make an important announcement. Our prototype is ready, and it’s working. We will be making it commercially available as soon as next year, pending all necessary government approvals. In the interim, I appreciate you giving Paragon the privacy it needs to continue this process and to protect its trade secrets. I will be making additional announcements about our progress soon.”
I looked out at them all, and a smile of triumph spread over my face. This was real. It was really happening.
“I am honored to have been part of the team that’s brought this technology from a vision to a reality. Our invention is going to change healthcare as we know it, making the world a better, healthier place to live. I won’t be taking questions now, but if you want to address them to my publicity director, Hannah Taylor, she’s available via email. Thank you.”
A thousand flashes went off, but they no longer fazed me. My baby was finally working and was on the brink of being released to civilization. Nothing was going to get in my way.
I’d stake my life on it.
I called Gabe late that night from the lab. He congratulated me on a successful press conference, and I wished I could be with him to celebrate.
But I had to ask him about Clive. “How did it go with you-know-who?” The weight that had been in my stomach all day over Gabe’s earlier text suddenly felt heavier.
“My men reported that, and I quote, you-know-who ‘almost shit himself’ when they met him in the parking lot of the restaurant he chose for lunch today.”
My jaw dropped. “What did they do to him?” What had I done to him?
“Nothing. They just told him that they were independent contractors, and that they’d been hired to keep an eye on him. And that if he went near you again, or contacted his third-party buyer, they would beat the crap out of him. And that he would never know who hired them.”
“I told you to send him a message. I didn’t say that the message should include the phrase ‘beat the crap.’” I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but hearing this was hard—because I’d been the one to ask for it.
