37. Disease Risk Assessment
37
Disease Risk Assessment
Disease risk assessment: An evaluation of an individual’s genetic, lifestyle, and environmental factors to determine a quantitative or qualitative risk of developing specific diseases.
OLIVER
One hour earlier
I opened my laptop and checked my presentation. When I pulled my notes out of my satchel, the papers fluttered in my trembling fingers. Quickly, I set them on the shiny glass surface of the boardroom table.
Who was I kidding? Everyone would know from one glance at my greenish face how nervous I was.
God, I missed Simon. He used to run these meetings like a pro. Then he’d text me when it was time for the science, and I’d scurry in to give my prepared presentation. On more than one occasion, one of the members had started to snore in the middle of it. At first, I was offended, but Simon told me a boring presentation was a successful one: people hated to be surprised.
They were going to hate me today.
Dr. Perrell’s assistant walked in, her steps silent on the thick carpet. She carried a tray of sandwiches, and I wondered if Savannah had made them. Gemma froze when she saw me but recovered after a few blinks. “Dr. Bond! I didn’t expect you to be in here. You know the meeting doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, right?”
“Is it a problem that I’m early?”
“Of course not.” She set the bagels on a credenza. “The coffee’s on the way, but would you like me to bring you a cup?”
I rubbed my sweaty hands on my pants. “No, thank you, Gemma. Maybe a glass of water when you have a minute. Please.”
“Sure. Good luck today.” She smiled.
“Thanks.” Gemma’s position would be eliminated if we sold to Greenwich. And she didn’t have a life raft of stock options to keep her afloat during her job search.
I scanned the paper that listed my key points. I had to succeed. Everyone’s future was riding on it.
“Well, well.” I looked up at the familiar voice. “Look who’s an eager beaver today.”
I stood and held out my hand. “Sir.”
My grandfather took it. “It’s good to see you engaged in the company. I was worried for a while.”
“I prefer the science,” I said, “but today’s vote is important.”
“And which way do you intend to vote?” He lifted his white eyebrows.
“Against,” I said with all the confidence I could muster.
“Really? I’d have thought you’d prefer to let someone else be in charge while you focus on the science, like you said.”
“I’d much rather.” Simon, and even Tessa, had allowed me to do that. Now they’d abandoned me. “But I care about this company, and that means I have to step up and lead. How do you intend to vote?”
“It was a risk to invest in a couple of college kids, but the returns have been good—except for this year.”
I winced. Six months ago, Dr. Perrell had reminded me that we hadn’t launched a new product in almost a year, but I hadn’t thought about how it might affect our investors.
He spread his hands. “I’m getting too old to be traipsing across the country every quarter. I?—”
Gemma pushed in a utility cart of bottled water and a couple of large carafes. “Good morning, Mr. Bond. Coffee?”
“Decaf, please,” my grandfather said. “With the time change, I’ve been up since four. I’ve already had two cups of the leaded stuff.”
While Gemma and my grandfather exchanged pleasantries, I worried. Was he planning to vote for the sale? I’d hoped at least my blood relative would stand with me.
I didn’t get a chance to ask him as the other board members entered, each one of them surprised to see me. Every raised eyebrow was a dagger to my heart. Had I really been that disengaged? I vowed to dedicate myself to leadership at every opportunity, especially at future board meetings—if I got the chance.
“Good morning, everyone.” Dr. Perrell glided into the room, modeling a confidence I’d never feel. She took a few minutes to greet each board member with a warm smile and a hearty handshake. I wished I’d done that instead of hunching in my chair, sweating.
The secretary called us to order and took us through a few housekeeping items before turning to me. “Next on the agenda is an update on research and development.”
For a few seconds, I fumbled to get my presentation up on the screen. Carefully, I talked through my prepared points on the ovarian cancer test, reviewing the importance of the first-of-its-kind test and showing how it had finished its clinical trials with strong results, despite running a few weeks late.
“We’re on track for approvals by early next year,” I concluded.
“Weren’t we targeting late this year?” a board member asked.
“Yes, and we’ll do everything we can to accelerate the schedule, but these processes take time. Some steps are out of our control. We might not make it.”
There were murmurs around the table. My grandfather bent to listen to the board member on his left.
“And,” I said, trying to wrench back their attention, “I have more exciting news. Another first: a biomarker test for endometriosis.” I segued into the second half of my presentation, wrapping up with, “An inexpensive, accessible test for endometriosis will help people get the treatments they need for better quality of life.”
“Discovery Diagnostics fights cancer,” a board member said. “Why are we losing our focus?”
“I wouldn’t say we’re losing our focus. We’re leveraging our expertise to combat another condition,” I said, “one that affects ten percent of reproductive-age people with uteruses. Studies have shown that more than two thirds of patients with the condition have missed school or work due to it.” I remembered Tessa suffering on her couch, reaching for her laptop when what she needed was a nap and a more flexible work schedule. I recalled the sick days Sadie took almost every month. “Think of the productivity lost, the earnings missed. With a diagnosis and better understanding of the condition, more effective treatments are possible.”
Dr. Perrell interrupted the new murmurs by standing. “The effort was a pet project of our former COO, Tessa Wright. I think we can all agree, Oliver, that the test could have a significant impact on women’s health. I’m not convinced it makes Discovery Diagnostics more valuable in the marketplace, but a potential buyer can decide if they want to move forward.”
I stiffened. If they wanted to move forward? If our board voted to sell, would the endometriosis test be locked away, never to be made available to people with endometriosis? That sounded a hell of a lot like one of Tessa’s dad’s wild theories.
“Now,” she said, “let’s move on to the next order of business. We’ve been approached by Greenwich Biomedical with a purchase offer.”
She named the sum, and it was big. Assuming each of the investors was bought out according to the payout plan, my share would mean I’d never have to work again. Like Tessa, though I was a few years older than she was when she got her life-changing payout. For her, it hadn’t been a change for the better.
I glanced around the table. These were all wealthy people. Take my grandfather, for example. He’d retired early and comfortably from his bank president career. When Simon and I approached him for funds to start up Discovery, he listened to our pitch and then wrote us a check, likely thinking he’d never see that money again. He was more of a risk-taker than my father, but he’d never risk more than he could afford to lose. His equity share wasn’t the largest, but because he’d been our first, it was significant.
Still, he didn’t need a payout. None of these people did. Well, except maybe Dr. Perrell for her daughters’ lavish weddings. Briefly, I regretted taking the girls’ dreams away before I blurted, “Why?”
“Excuse me?” she asked, an irritated crease between her eyebrows.
“Why should we sell now?”
“As you all know”—she made a slow circuit of the board members with her gaze—“we’ve struggled to release product to market on a regular basis. This year, our investors haven’t received dividends as promised. It’s time to seek help, not only for ourselves but for the patients we’re looking to serve. The science will be stronger with the backing of Greenwich.” She stared directly into my eyes. “We’ll be stronger together.”
I hadn’t thought of it like that. I leaned back in my chair. We’d have access to more resources. I wouldn’t be forced to beg Dr. Perrell every time I needed a new PCR machine.
On the other hand, I doubted Greenwich would test as rigorously as I wanted. Like Tessa and Dr. Perrell, they’d focus on profit and loss. I doubted they’d take the time to understand the intricacies of my research the way Tessa had.
“I like it,” the secretary said. “It reduces our risk.”
Those were my four favorite words. Yet I couldn’t ignore the heavy feeling in my stomach. “But?—”
Dr. Perrell spoke over me. “Our founder, Simon Grimstone, wanted strong growth for Discovery Diagnostics. He wanted not only for the company to make a scientific difference but”—she chuckled—“a few weeks before he died, he told me his wish was for the company to be listed on the Buzz Bizz 1000. With Greenwich, we can get there. Simon would be thrilled about this opportunity.”
Would he? I wished I could pause the meeting like one of Simon’s console games and go commune with his spirit in the game room. Maybe I’d hear his voice in the pings of Space Invaders, and he’d tell me what he really wanted.
“Not to mention,” Dr. Perrell continued, “the benefits to the employees a merger with Greenwich would bring. A larger company can ensure job safety for our staff.”
“Would it?”
I turned at the achingly unexpected voice. Tessa leaned against the doorframe, a neon-yellow visitor badge glowing against her black shirt. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her russet hair was scraped back from her pale face the way she used to wear it in the lab. “How—” I began.
Dr. Perrell spoke over me again. “Tessa, since you tendered your resignation, you don’t have a place in this meeting. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
She lifted her chin. “I know I forfeited my right to have an opinion about this when I left, but I want everyone here”—her gaze connected with mine—“to understand the implications of a buyout. From personal experience, I can tell you that what a company might promise is different from what happens after a merger.”
My brain was overloaded, like my laptop when I gave it a large volume of data to analyze. I couldn’t get over the fact that Tessa was fighting for my company like an avenging Valkyrie. Would she fight for me too? For us?
“You took your payout from Red Rover,” Dr. Perrell said, “so I hardly see how?—”
“It was a mistake,” Tessa said. “One I don’t want to see you make, Oliver.”
My name in her mouth was music. She’d come because she cared about me. I pushed back my chair and stood. “Can we break for five minutes?”
“No, Oliver,” Dr. Perrell said, “we can’t stop this meeting because your girlfriend is here.” Murmurs erupted from the other board members. “Yes, unfortunately, it’s true. Ms. Wright left because she was having an inappropriate relationship with Dr. Bond. Sadly, it’s not the first time she’s slept with a colleague.”
“Hold on just a minute!” I ripped my gaze from Tessa’s chalk-white face to Dr. Perrell. “Our relationship is not up for discussion. This merger offer is. And Tessa raises a valid question.”
Dr. Perrell crossed her arms. “She shouldn’t be here. Whoever let her in today will be disciplined.”
“This is almost as entertaining as that show where everyone fights in the mansion.” My grandfather levered himself up. “But my grandson is right. We need to focus. Tessa, it’s good to see you again.” He shook her hand. “I was sorry you left. But Maya is right. You don’t have a vote. I don’t mind if you stay and listen since it seems that you have some unfinished business.” He winked at me. “But I’m going to ask you to be silent. Agreed?”
Tessa’s jaw twitched. I sensed the waves of frustration rolling off her. “Agreed, Mr. Bond.” She sank into one of the chairs against the wall.
Dr. Perrell’s dark eyes flashed. “As I was saying, a buyout could mean higher salaries and more affordable health insurance to those employees who remain.”
“To those who remain?” I repeated. “And how many will be let go?”
“That’s to be determined,” Dr. Perrell said.
“By who?” My glasses had started to steam.
“By leadership. Anyone let go will receive our standard severance package.”
Severance wouldn’t go far with the Bay Area’s high cost of living. Especially for our newest employees, who wouldn’t receive much. Sadie’s face swam into my vision.
“Does Greenwich offer tuition reimbursement?”
Dr. Perrell’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know. Our discussions haven’t gotten to that level of detail.”
Tuition reimbursement might be a detail, but it was an important one. And even if they did offer it, it wouldn’t help Sadie if she were laid off. I thought of West and his department. The people in accounting who were so patient with me and my messy expense reports. And our marketing department, who sponsored a costume contest every Halloween and ran the Earth Day recycling drive. My thoughts circled back to the lab.
“What amount of control will they have over our research projects?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tessa nod.
Dr. Perrell lowered her chin. “They made the offer because they’re interested in the ovarian cancer test. I’m sure they’ll support that.”
Leaving the endometriosis test to gather dust, when it could help patients. With its large portfolio of projects, Greenwich would never let a determined group of lab employees spin up a test that wasn’t in the annual plan.
“What if we’re stronger without them?” I asked.
“You’re opposing the deal over tuition reimbursement?” Dr. Perrell folded her arms. “Think what our ovarian cancer test can do with the power of Greenwich’s marketing resources.”
“It’s not only the tuition reimbursement. It’s our people. This company is nothing without them. We owe them the respect and care they deserve.” That awareness of Tessa I always had? Although I kept my eyes on the people at the table, I knew she’d gone absolutely still.
“Our people have worked incredibly hard to get us to this point,” I continued. “We might not have the distributed risk of a larger organization, but we’re more nimble. We pivot when needed. Like how we got those samples we needed from the university in India. If I’d had to go through levels of approval, I might not have been able to get them in time to finish the clinical trials. There are benefits to being small.” Sorry, Simon.
“Are you saying you want to go this alone?” Dr. Perrell asked. “With Greenwich, you’ll be able to focus on the science and ignore everything you don’t care about. With Greenwich, we’ll all have security.”
For a second, I let myself imagine what a relief it would be not to have to worry constantly about the company, not to have to think about quarterly numbers or budgets, and to bury my head in the lab.
I glanced at Tessa. Her eyes shone with something like confidence in me. Or could it be love? She’d come here to warn me and to support me. And now she’d stepped aside so I could make my own decision. She’d experienced what could happen when you sold out. How everything could go to shit. If Dr. Perrell hadn’t asked questions about tuition reimbursement, what other details had she ignored?
“I know what I want,” I said, “and I vote no.” I glanced around the table. “I understand if you feel differently, and I’ll buy your shares if you want a payout now.” My breathing quickened. With most of my wealth tied up in the company, I couldn’t afford to buy too many shares. I might have to sell my house to do it. “But I won’t vote to sell. Not now, maybe not ever. We can achieve greater success on our own. I’m confident in us. In myself.”
I felt a phantom pat on my back, right in the spot Simon would grip my shoulder when he was proud of me. Warm peace washed through me. I glanced around the table at the other investors. Then I looked at Tessa. Her cheeks had pinked, and she flashed me a rare grin.
I’d done the right thing, assuming I survived this vote.