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“What’s in it for Dynamica? What’s in it for you, Gabriel?”
“Money. Power. Influence.” A slow grin spread across his face. “And by all means, please call me Gabe.”
Chapter 3
I stalked around my office for the rest of the afternoon, feeling off-kilter. Gabe’s offer was unexpected and unwelcome. It was also, however, a great offer. If Paragon partnered with Dynamica before we launched, we could offer our technology to labs and third-party providers all over the world.
I could curate similar contacts over time, but the partnership would make those avenues immediately accessible. The alliance’s attraction was undeniable. The financial compensation Gabe outlined at the end of our meeting was fair. It seemed like an offer I couldn’t refuse.
The problem was, I had to say no. I didn’t do partnerships.
I’d built Paragon by myself, from the ground up. After I’d quit MIT, I moved to northern California and used some of the money my parents had left me to secure a tiny lab space. Then I used more of it to build my first prototype. At the time, I slept at the lab on a futon. I worked sixteen-hour days, alone, fleshing out the idea for the technology. I’d known then that I would one day be successful, but I’d also known it wouldn’t be easy.
I’d been correct—years of trial and error were ahead of me and Paragon. I’d continued my work with the prototype, but I’d finally reached the point where I needed funding to expand my research. I’d made some friends at MIT, and from time to time, they checked in on me. Some of those friends were wildly successful, some of them had family money, and all of them believed in me. They knew my single-minded determination to make my ideas work. They’d become my first investors, and they were all still with me today. With their initial investment, I’d moved into a larger lab space. I formed Paragon Laboratories, hired more staff, started the FDA approval process, and began the technical trials on my prototype.
My mother had no taste for luxury, but she’d always loved diamonds. She admired their strength, their clarity, and their beauty. I’d named my company Paragon after the perfect diamond of one hundred or more carats. If you included all the microbes, the human body contained over one hundred trillion cells, and I planned to use my technology to help analyze them.
But I’d always been very clear that it was my technology.
I’d gained more investors as I’d grown, but I’d never shared the exact results of my research or the nature of my technology with anyone. Instead of filing for patent protection for the patch, which would have released some of the technology publicly, I protected it as a trade secret. Trade secrets were only secure while they were confidential—so I guarded the information fiercely. Only a core group of employees had knowledge of the most up-to-date specs, and even then, they only knew the portion that directly impacted their day-to-day functions. My investors, and later my board of directors, only had a general sense of what I worked on and how I achieved my results. That was okay with everyone because they believed in me, my commitment to the company and to the research.
I never planned on going public. I never planned on sharing what I’d made with other companies—only customers. I’d always wanted to be in complete control of Paragon’s present and future. As its single parent, I knew no one could love it and care for it like I could.
If I partnered with Dynamica, I would have another person to answer to—Gabriel Betts. If he became unhappy about something I did, he could criticize me as an equal. But that wasn’t what worried me. The idea of trusting him, relying on him, and the possibility that he could fail me worried me the most.
I trusted myself because I knew I would never fail—because all my failures were leading to success, and I would never give up. But I couldn’t put that sort of trust in someone else. Not many people were as driven and single-minded as I’d been.
The sky darkened as the options ran through my head. I had a duty to present Gabe’s offer to the board, and they had a duty to analyze it and advise me about whether to accept it. Their answer would be yes, we should partner with Dynamica and reach international customers more quickly than we’d ever planned. We’d make more money to invest back into our research, and then we’d make more amazing things to help people.
They would say yes, and they would be right. We should partner with Dynamica.
But I kept thinking about Gabe. His easy laugh. Those shoulders. How he’d said I was lovelier than my pictures. I imagined working with him on a regular basis, seeing the twinkle in his eyes, seeing that dimple. Having a reason to call him. Often.
And all I wanted to say was no.
“What are you doing home?” Hannah asked, stupefied, from across the kitchen.
I coughed and looked at the clock. The fact that I was home from work at six-thirty on a Friday night shouldn’t be remarkable—but it was, and I knew it. I also knew the reason was going to push my sister into a state of ecstatic rapture.
“I have a date.”
She clapped her hands together. “Is it with Gabriel Betts? I knew it. I knew it!”
“Calm yourself. It’s not with Gabriel. It’s with Clive Warren.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Huh? I thought he moved to China.”
“He did, but now he’s back. He’s been hounding me to go to dinner for the past six weeks. So I’m going.”
Hannah poured herself a seltzer and frowned at me. “Since when do you go on dates?”
Since I can’t stop thinking about Gabe Betts. I figured that was a clear sign I needed to get out more. Or at least once. I also wanted to prove to myself that I could have a meal with an attractive, intelligent man without breaking into a cold sweat. I’d failed to do that at my lunch with Gabe. I clearly needed practice with social interaction.
And if I happened to like Clive Warren on a personal level, so much the better. So much the better because that would put another layer between me and Gabe Betts, who seemed to pop into my every alternating thought since I’d met him.
“It’s not really a date—not to me anyway. I want to catch up with him about his latest patent. He’s been texting me twice a week. I figured if I finally had dinner with him, he’d stop.”
