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Swirl. Swirl. Swirl—siiiiiiiiiip. “Ahhhhh. Top-shelf as always. Hats off to you, Phalen. You’ve got excellent taste.”
C.P. Phalen cleared her throat. Then…
“Not much to say, huh.” Gus took another long drink. “Don’t blame you. Yes, testing Vita-12bin vivo is our next step, but I’m not going to force Daniel to do it. Ethically, I am his treating physician and that relationship has to come before—hello?”
She tried to focus as Gus waved a hand in her direction. “I’m sorry.”
“Look, we’ll find our patient. It’s just not going to be Daniel.”
“Not him.” C.P. nodded. “You’re right.”
Tilting to the side, he poured himself another healthy serving. “I told you last week, I still think we should reach out to some national programs. MD Anderson. Mayo. Cleveland Clinic. Everyone knows me and there are ways of being discreet—”
“No,” she said as she snapped to attention. “It will get out. Those patients are registered into systems that track, you know that.”
“Then what are you suggesting. All this work has been for nothing?”
She watched him finish what was in his glass, and then pour a second refill. “Are you driving home?”
Gus raised his glass. “I’d tell you my Tesla will do that for me, but that’s a bad joke, isn’t it.”
“You can’t drive drunk.”
“Who said I’m leaving? And no, I will not perform any official duties in the lab. My plan is to take this bottle with me when I go—and you’re going to let me have it because you give me anything I want around here. I’m going to go to my office and finish it while I playCall of Dutyuntil Ipass out. I’ll be sober by tomorrow morning—and yes, I even have a change of clothes down there. Ya welcome.”
“Thank you.”
As his brows dropped down over his dark eyes, Gus shifted forward in his seat. “Phalen.”
As her eyes shot back to him, she wasn’t aware of having looked away. “What.”
“When we started this—when you hired me for this job—I was in charge of the labs and the science. You provided the money and the privacy. We both agreed that we’d take it all the way, and you told me that the runway to patient trials was clear. So here we are. We’re at the runway and you’re putting up roadblocks. For a woman who’s dodging the FDA, I’m surprised you’re trying to play neat and tidy all of a sudden. I can get us the clinical partners, and you know better than anybody that money buys silence—plus if you’re worried about adverse outcomes, I will personally ensure the safety of the subjects.”
C.P. rubbed the back of her neck. “I need a little more time. I’ll get you your patient one—”
“And what about after that? Patient two? Three? Ten?” His stare glowed with all kinds of no-bullshit. “Even if Daniel volunteered, we need others.”
Glancing down to the floor, she pictured the lab. All those scientists, doctors, researchers.
“Goddamn it, Phalen… you didn’t actuallybelieve we’d get here, did you. What the hell did you think I’ve been doing in that facility of yours?” He knocked his glass on her desk to get her attention. “This is my life’s work. I’m not going to give up…”
Gus’s voice drifted off. And then he collapsed back in the chair with such force, he splashed some tequila on the carpet. “You’re selling us, aren’t you.”
C.P. shook her head. And then said remotely, “I do have three international partners who are interested. One of them could, in theory, take Vita and pipeline it through their R&D using our data. European approval for clinical trials could occur, and then we could leverage that to get through the US barriers—”
“You’re fucking selling her.” He held up his palm before she could respond. “And of course you’ve had conversations already. I know your reputation. It’s about money for you, not the science.”
“First of all, how about you not put words in my mouth. Secondly, how’d you like a bona fide clinical trial? There are your patients—as well as a pathway to FDA approval. Unless you thought we were going to sell her on the black market? The ultimate end game cannot be covert.”
Gus frowned and looked at his glass as if it were a crystal ball. She knew what he was thinking.
“You’re going to have to give her up at some point.” C.P. shrugged. “You’ve grown her up well, but she’s going to have to go on her own.”
Staring across her desk, the lack of clutter on the slick, shiny surface made the lacquered piano-black top seem like it was a portal she could fall into, a black void ready to swallow her.
“You’re going to have to let her go,” she repeated.
There was only the slightest catch to her voice, and she was proud of that. Funny how for all her own life’s work, all the money, all the businesses, all the political maneuvering, this one moment of composure, in front of this particular man, seemed like a culmination she had been working toward.
