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Filled with gratitude and an intense urge to bury our competition, I hustled downstairs so I could get back to work.
Chapter 20
My head whirled from my meeting. In an attempt to calm down, I paced in my office, watching the sun set. And I went over my myriad lists. There were so many lists and so little time.
I was thrilled that the board continued to support me, but my nerves were shot, nonetheless. I should have known they’d want the process sped up. I wanted that too, because on the other side of a public launch lay safety—safety from Jiàn Innovations and safety from corporate counterattacks. Even if my Chinese competitors eventually launched a similar product, Paragon’s patch would have the advantage of being the premiere technology in the field. We would have the established relationships, contracts, and public trust that Jiàn would struggle to emulate. They would continue to play catch-up while we ruled the marketplace.
If they got to market first, Paragon would be the perpetual second fiddle. That wasn’t going to happen. Not on my watch. That was a failure I would not tolerate.
My phone buzzed, and I jumped. I’d been so wrapped up with my meeting, I hadn’t called Gabe to check in. I scrambled for my phone.
Stuck at the office for now, he wrote, but at least I’m no longer incarcerated.
Can you talk? I texted back.
Not now. In a meeting. Meet me at my house later tonight. Security knows to let you in. I have the house under surveillance.
Okay, I wrote.
Okay, he wrote back immediately. I would tell you that I love you, but that seems odd to do via text.
A minute passed before my phone buzzed again. By the way, I love you anyway.
I love you anyway, too.
Because I was alone, I smiled and clung to my cell phone, clutching it against my chest. I was so glad he was out of jail and I got to see him tonight.
A hot rush of desire, mingled with raw emotion, coursed through me. I sighed, knowing that tonight might be the last night I spent with him for the foreseeable future. I had to get the patch to market, and I had to do it now.
I wasn’t going to let anything, not even the painful yearning for the man I loved, get in my way.
On the way to Gabe’s estate, I picked up my cell phone, ignoring the five angry texts from Bethany O’Donnell about my unsupervised interview with the FBI. I decided to call Hannah again. It went straight to voice mail. I leaned forward to Timmy. “Can you call Wes on your phone? I need to check in on Han
nah, and she’s not picking up.”
Timmy immediately got on his phone. “Wes? Are you at the Taylor residence? Everything all right?” He listened to Wes for a minute, grunting once before he hung up. “They’re fine, ma’am. Hannah’s watching a movie. Her phone died, and she’s charging it.”
“Okay.” I slid back in the seat and was quiet for a moment. “Timmy?”
“Yes, Ms. Taylor?”
“What’s Wes like? I don’t remember meeting him.”
“He’s in his mid-twenties, former marine, about six-two. Blond. Good-looking kid.”
“Huh. Is he married?”
“No, ma’am.” Timmy was quiet for a beat. “Is there a problem? ’Cause I can reassign someone to your sister tonight.”
“No, it’s fine. I just need to talk to her.” My phone rang then, interrupting my thoughts, and I tentatively answered.
“Ms. Taylor?” asked a female voice.
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Attorney Jennifer Schilling. I represent Clive Warren.” She was quiet for a beat, letting that sink in. “Detective Conant gave me your number earlier today. I hope that’s okay. He said you had some questions about Clive’s statement?”
“Is it possible to speak with your client?” I asked. “Privately?”
