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“I am doing quite alright by myself. Thank you for the confidence.”
“Don't be too proud. I have no ax to grind. I’m not Jamie and I’m not Xavier.” He stood, tapping the tablet. “I just securely emailed you the draft. Let me know when you’ve taken a look at it and are ready to discuss.”
Chapter 19
Amy
Itwasmyfirstofficial day at Reed Biotech and I decided that a more casual look was in order. I had noticed one or two researchers staring disdainfully at my stiff gray pants last week. Dressed in jeans and a magenta T-shirt, I tied my curls into a ponytail so they didn’t get in the way. I pulled on a pair of floral printed slip on shoes and glanced at my watch.
The time was ten minutes past seven. A little too early, but I wanted to set a good example and let the team see that I wasn't just a random person coming to boss them around. I wanted them to see me as a hardworking and passionate researcher. Just like them. They would eventually get to see the real me outside of their prejudices, and warm up. Reassured by this thought, I smiled to myself.
I pushed the door open, and the smile died on my lips. Every single one of them was already here, already going about and preparing for tests. Dr. Auburn sat in a corner reading through what looked to be reports. Janice held a magnifying glass to her eyes and stared intently at some fine particles on white paper. Harvey was locked in what seemed like a passionate discussion with another guy whose name I didn't remember. The last person, Amanda, reached in one of the shelves overhead for a flask. They all looked up and watched my entrance as keenly as sharks stalking dinner. They were silent, but their eyes judged me severely for coming late. I immediately grew defensive. Work wasn’t supposed to start until nine o’clock every day. I arrived so early just to put some things in place, have some alone time before everyone arrived, and also be off to a good start on our first day working together. I wondered what it was they had to do so urgently. The team hadn't even officially kicked off yet.
I almost wanted to bow my head, feeling ashamed, but I forced myself to walk. I wasn't a child anymore or so easily intimidated. Instead I smiled even brighter, meeting each pair of eyes.
“Good morning," I said sweetly. They all murmured a greeting in response and looked away to concentrate on other things. I felt a small amount of satisfaction. This was my team. I led them. If I allowed myself to be pushed around from the beginning, then my research would stop being mine in no time.
I walked through the lab to an adjoining door that led to my very small office. Apparently, it was how these things were set up, especially in big biotech companies. I set down my bag and picked up my lab coat. I smiled wryly as I thought about my last conversation with Daniel about this coat. Despite myself, the more I talked to him, the less I thought he was all that bad. Sure, he was still annoying, and still a little arrogant, and obviously still wealthy, but he was different from that night all those years ago in high school when he made me feel so small.
I still wasn’t completely sure what his motives were and if it had anything to do with me, but I could sense there was something deeper than just the research. I knew this company was his family’s and I knew his family was… complicated. So was he trying to prove himself to more people than I had initially thought?
I sat in the extremely comfortable chair, drumming my fingers on the desk. There was a computer and a tablet set on the polished, wooden desk. I turned on the computer, and it was already set up with my profile. On the tablet were reports of my research progress I had sent in advance. I wanted to share it with the team members to bring them up to speed and so that we could re-run some of those tests. I picked up the tablet and walked back into the lab. They must have been discussing it before I came in, but they immediately went silent upon my entrance. I sighed. People.
“Good morning, everyone!” I called out, trying to get everyone’s attention.
A few people murmured, but most ignored me.
“Can we gather round, please? I’d like to talk before we all get started,” I went on, not discouraged by the unenthusiastic responses. They all came forward, dropping whatever they were doing. Some, like Harvey, lounged in their chairs, totally at ease. While Janice and the other guy stood awkwardly, as though they felt out of place in the laboratory.
“We were introduced last week,” I began, “But it would be nice to do so again to get us more familiar with each other and promote team spirit.” The joke didn’t land all that well. They all stared at me flatly except for Harvey, who laughed. But it wasn't a pleasant laugh. It was more of a mocking sort of laugh. Sooner or later, I thought, I'd have to do something about that one.
“So I'm Dr. Amelia Palmer. Studied biochemistry for most of my career. Most of my research, including the current project, is linked to genetics and immunology. I mix microbiology and bioinformatics with all these. Please call me Amy. We'll be working closely for a while and I look forward to getting to know each of you better,” I finished, looking at them individually until someone else picked up the introduction.
“The name's Auburn. Biochemist,” she said shortly and stared at the others. She seemed to command some sort of respect around here and by speaking up, she got the others talking. She was the one I needed to court.
Janice went next. She was a young professor of microbiology, probably in her twenties. She was running a PhD program and part of it was practical field experience. It was why she was there at Reed Biotech. Harvey was all pumped up. He was a lead researcher there at Reed Biotech. He coordinated different teams research teams. He didn't exactly have a specific specialization as he worked in different fields. He loved any project as long as it had something to do with science and research. Amanda was an assistant; an intern from Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Matt, the guy whose name I didn't recall, was also an intern, and a graduate of chemistry from Stanford University.
“Good,” I said after everyone was done introducing themselves. “I hope we can have a good time working together.” I aimed pointed looks at a few people, especially Harvey.
I moved over to the large screen on the wall and projected my tablet onto the screen. I pulled up a file.
“This is a summary of everything I have done on this project so far. We can just go through for today and everyone can direct their questions and observations to me. We can then proceed by rerunning some of the tests. I’ll leave this up on the screen, but if anyone would like a printed version, feel free to ask.”
“Why, Amy, would we be rerunning the tests?” Harvey asked. His voice dripped with condescension as he spoke, making my skin crawl. He seemed to have a problem, particularly with me, and I could understand where it stemmed from. He was used to leading research teams himself and he understandably didn't want to be led. But I wasn't going to let myself lose credibility just to soothe his overgrown ego.
“Sometimes all you need is a fresh set of eyes to find what you might've previously missed, Harvey.” I infused as much sweetness as I could manage into my voice. “Besides, starting with smaller and more familiar tasks is a good way to prepare for uncharted territory.”
“Of course,” he said, lips thinning in a smile that could send shivers down anyone’s spine. I mentally congratulated myself on mishandling things on day one. Already made myself an enemy on the very first day. Yet, I realized, it was unfair to credit myself for this achievement. I had basically done nothing, the enemy had gone and made itself.
After that, everyone drifted off to read and I sat, reading and familiarizing myself with the status of the project and thinking about next steps. Surely, as they read, they would recognize the brilliant mind that had done all this, right? They would see that I was truly good enough to coordinate such a team. Yet, as I thought this, my traitorous mind brought up the question. Was what I did good enough to be called genius? Was it not the work of luck more than talent? Passion and hard work didn't equal genius, did they?
“Dr. Palmer?” someone asked, breaking me from my self-doubting thoughts.
I had to glance up fully to see who it was. It was Damien Cannan, Daniel's stepbrother. He was just as good looking as Daniel, although a little shorter. Where Daniel was lean, Damien was more solid, stockier; he had the build of a fighter. I could imagine him brawling in one of the taverns from my favorite books, rolling around on the floor, grappling with an opponent. Yet his eyes were soft with a melancholic intensity to them. He was very handsome as well, and the kind of guy any woman wanted for rough handling. His black hair was cropped short and drew attention to his strong and almost unreal facial features. His cheekbones and jaw aligned too symmetrically and his round lips promised a softness. He was an artist's dream, literally.
“Hi, Mr. Cannan,” I said, putting out my hand. He shook it firmly, then let go.
“You can call me Damien,” he said, meeting my eyes disconcertingly. Why did it feel like he was reading me? I blinked, breaking the connection.
