11. Sensitivity
11
Sensitivity
Sensitivity : A test’s ability to correctly identify individuals with a disease.
Specificity: A test’s ability to identify individuals without a disease.
OLIVER
A nother Friday, another status report.
I leaned back in my office chair and stared out the window behind my computer monitor. It was a typical gray, freeze-your-ass-off December day in Silicon Valley. Light rain spritzed the window.
Still, if I couldn’t be in my lab doing science, I’d rather be outside, cold and wet, than stuck here in my climate-controlled office writing reports. Simon and I had started the company with dreams of doing only what we loved—meteoric business growth and interviews on CNN for him; breakthrough discoveries for me—but that wasn’t how it turned out. The growth had waned after Simon’s death, and the science? Sure, we’d had some successes, but they’d slowed too.
I’d been tempted to make my report sound like we were further along than we were—with 75 days left, according to Tessa’s poster—but that wouldn’t help anyone. Maybe it would keep Dr. Perrell off my ass temporarily, but when we fell further and further behind, everyone would find out. Better to signal now that we were lagging than to surprise everyone in March when we were supposed to deliver a test to clinical trials.
I clicked to send the email off to Tessa, who’d add her assessment and forward it to Dr. Perrell. She always copied me, which was decent of her, I had to confess. And although her notes were rarely flattering, they were fair. She always complimented the team for their hard work, and she’d learned enough of the science (I admitted grudgingly) to highlight key achievements that would set our product apart. Though when I’d pointed out last week she’d used sensitivity when she’d meant specificity, she’d gone off on me about my pedantry and my triple-validations until my skin felt raw.
I knew as the operations chief it was her job to ensure things at the lab proceeded smoothly and according to schedule. But what I did in research and development had an almost artistic element to it. Creativity didn’t always follow a schedule. Simon understood that.
I picked up my phone to check the time. Almost five. I’d been hoping to start an assay this afternoon, but I’d spent too much time on my status report. I could ask Sadie to kick it off, then I could verify she’d done it correctly when I returned from my run.
Standing, I stretched my arms toward the ceiling, then I grabbed my gym bag from under my desk. Running in the icy rain would clear my head.
Inside the lab, I dropped my bag on the floor under the hooks, shrugged into my white coat, and glanced around the space. After five, it was around half full, so Sadie should’ve been easy to spot. But she wasn’t at the bench she normally used or at the workstation where she ran simulations. I remembered seeing her earlier today. Where was she?
I strode through the lab, poking my head around corners, accidentally startling some people as they worked. Finally, I found her at the far end of the lab where we kept the spectrophotometer and where old cell counters went to die. Sadie leaned her hip against the bench, talking to Tessa.
My stomach clenched. What right did Tessa have to steal one of my employees’ time, especially this close to the end of the day? I stepped closer, but they must not have heard me because they continued their conversation.
“Don’t you want to advance in your career?” Tessa crossed an arm over her stomach and propped her other elbow on it, resting her chin on her freckled knuckles.
“Yes…” Sadie drew out the word. She twirled the end of her ponytail around her finger.
“You sound unsure.” Tessa tilted her head.
“I owe so much to Ollie. Oliver, I mean. He gave me this opportunity when I was lost. I don’t want to leave him. It would seem ungrateful.”
Was Tessa poaching my employees? What the fuck? I held my breath so I could catch her response.
“I’m not saying you should leave. I’m saying you should take advantage of the company’s tuition reimbursement program so you can go back to school. And consider cutting back your work hours while you take classes toward your doctorate.”
“My doctorate?” Sadie repeated.
Shit. I’d wanted to encourage Sadie to go back to school. But with everything going on, I’d forgotten. My face heated. Unless I’d secretly hoped to keep her working full time while we got this test to market. I sent up a silent apology to Simon. I’d apologize to Sadie out loud later.
“You can’t want to be a lab tech forever,” Tessa said. “You have such creative ideas. You’ll be able to champion them yourself as a full scientist. Cutting back your hours would allow you to get your doctorate in seven or eight years instead of a dozen. It’s a big difference to finish in your early thirties versus your late thirties.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Sadie said.
Neither had I. I hadn’t considered how long it might take her to finish while she worked full time. What if she had other goals, like a relationship or starting a family? Between a full-time job and school, she’d have no time for anything else.
“I know,” Tessa said. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. To give you some perspective. And with your health condition, you’ve got to manage your energy. Taking on too much will exhaust you.”
Fuck. I was a selfish asshole.
“You’re right.” Sadie looked at her sneakers. “How will I tell Ollie I want to cut back my hours when the semester starts?”
“Leave it to me,” Tessa said. “I’ll deal with him.”
I cleared my throat, startling both women. Sadie’s eyes widened, and her lips parted in horror. Tessa tipped up her chin. From our previous skirmishes, I knew that meant she was preparing for battle.
“No one has to deal with me,” I said. “It makes sense to devote more time to your studies, Sadie. We can collaborate on a work schedule that will support your goals. Plus, I’ve got some contacts at Stanford. They might admit you as soon as January if we start right away.”
The tension in Sadie’s shoulders eased. “Thanks, Ollie. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t. And I won’t let you down either.” I’d promised Simon’s memory I wouldn’t. “But…”
“But?” Sadie asked. Tessa seemed to grow taller as she stepped toward me.
“But we’re going to need all you can give the lab until then. We’ve got targets to meet.”
Sadie grinned. “Got it, Ollie.”
I shot a glance at Tessa. She tilted her head, those green eyes narrowed at me. She’d put on a lab coat, but her unbound hair cascaded in a red wave over her shoulder.
Glaring pointedly at it, I added, “Rule Three.”
“My god, Dr. Bond,” she said, winding her hair up into a ponytail. “Do you think this whatchamacallit”—she dipped her chin at the spectrophotometer—“is going to reach out and pull it?”
I had to shut my eyes for a moment. Why was her calling me by my title so hot? Especially while she touched her hair and talked about pulling it? Something molten bubbled in my belly. I gritted my teeth. Lab coats hid a lot, but I would not get an erection in my lab. “Safety first,” I said, my voice sounding like gravel.
Sadie glanced between us. “Anything I can do right now, boss?”
I cleared my throat. “Can you start an assay for me before you go? The instructions are in my folder on the network drive.”
“Sure. I’ll get right on it.”
“No need to stay after,” I said. “I’ll be back in time to check it.”
She practically skipped off. I glanced up at the fluorescent lights. I’ve done one thing right, Simon.
But it wasn’t all my doing. Tessa was the one who’d given us both a push. Who’d noticed what Sadie needed instead of what she wanted to see. Who’d set her on the path toward her professional goals. I met Tessa’s gaze. “Thanks. That was kind of you.” I almost choked on the word kind. It seemed so at odds with what she’d done to people at Red Rover. I’d set up a web alert on her name, and at least once a week, a disgruntled employee said something terrible about her. That was a lot of hate for something that had happened over a dozen years ago. It must have been truly traumatic.
The corner of her mouth lifted. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” She pivoted on the heel of her black boot and strode away, red ponytail swinging.
It should’ve been illegal for anyone to look that good in a lab coat.