Chapter 7 - Nathan
Lisbeth calling me into her office didn’t fill me with the same amount of dread it used to. I’d spent my first three months in her lab convinced she was on the verge of replacing me at any moment, and while that fear lingered, it wasn’t as intense as before.
“Could you close the door?” she asked as I stepped into the room. Her window looked out onto another bleak January morning.
All the possibilities for a one-on-one, closed-door meeting flashed through my mind.
But my first thought was she’d somehow discovered my obsession with Bridget.
Perhaps I wasn’t as good at hiding my feelings as I thought.
Had Bridget complained about me? If she had, I would be strangely proud of her.
“You don’t need to look so serious all the time,” Lisbeth joked. “Things are going well, lighten up a bit!”
“Things are going well,” I acknowledged. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
She settled back into her chair and surveyed me over the top of her thick, square glasses.
Unlike me, she didn’t wear descenters in the lab, and her peppery rose scent permeated the room.
“Partly, yes. Since we are seeing such strong initial results, I want to petition the IRB for an expansion cohort.”
“Do we have the material to add more subjects?” After the mold debacle, we were still recovering and trying to make up for lost ground.
“I’ll handle the supply issues.” Lisbeth waved her hand as if she were fanning away the difficulty. “If we can expand the study, it’ll help us prove the viability and bring the treatment to market faster. And the funders are highly incentivized to help us achieve that goal.”
I’d never had to deal with private funding before. Apparently, it made me uncomfortable, judging by the squirming in my stomach. “Wouldn’t it be better to finish the initial study with these ten subjects?”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Lisbeth’s voice went flat.
“Nathan, I don’t think you realize the pressure I’m under here.
The funders want to see a return on their investment, and an expansion cohort is the best and fastest way to do that.
You don’t need to concern yourself with what's best for the study. That’s my job. ”
“I don’t mean to overstep,” I said quickly. Lisbeth could be prickly if she thought someone was undermining her. Replacing someone who ‘thought they knew best’ was how I’d gotten my first leadership role in her lab. “What do you need from me?”
Lisbeth rewarded me with a smile. “Two things. First, I need you all to produce the documentation necessary for an expansion cohort. Work with Bridget on getting everything together as quickly as you can.”
“Of course,” I said, even as the squirming feeling intensified. Adding more subjects without knowing the long-term effects made me nervous. They’d only had a single injection. But, as Lisbeth said, it wasn’t my job to worry about that. “What’s the second thing?”
“Dr. Davis is throwing a fundraising gala Friday, and I’d like you to attend,” she said, peering at me over her glasses. “He wants to show off his research team to potential donors for future studies.”
I schooled my face into calm, even as my palms began to sweat. A gala, and its attendant crowds and forced social interactions, sounded like my personal hell.
“I’ll send out an email with the details,” she said and turned back to her computer. “Keep up the good work.”
Effectively dismissed, I plodded back to the lab. Anvi and Bridget were chatting as they ran an assay. Bridget and I made brief eye contact. Things had returned to normal after I escorted her home, but she seemed less guarded around me.
“I watched that movie you were talking about, the old one,” Anvi said, tapping her fingernails against the countertop. “The one about Philadelphia?”
“You watched The Philadelphia Story?” Bridget gasped, clutching her chest and looking delighted. “What did you think?”
Anvi wrinkled her nose. “I hated the ending. Why did she get back with her ex? She should’ve just been single and rich forever.”
Bridget laughed. “Because he’s Cary Grant! Did you like the rest of it, though?”
Anvi shrugged. “It was okay.”
Based on Bridget’s expression, this indifference was worse than if Anvi had excoriated the film from top to bottom. Her face fell before she caught herself and schooled her expression back into a smile. My heart contracted painfully.
“I thought Tracy and Mike should have ended up together,” I said without thinking. I immediately regretted it.
The centrifuge seemed louder in the sudden silence. Anvi was gaping at me, mouth open like a fish.
“You’ve seen it?” Bridget asked after another moment.
My face was burning. “I’m not sure why you’re both so shocked. It’s a classic film. A lot of people have seen it.”
“Yeah, but I thought you only watched, like, war documentaries,” Anvi said. “Isn’t that what guys like?”
I frowned at the unflattering assessment.
Bridget smiled again. It was a small smile, but it still made my heart race. “Be nice, Anvi; he’s not an old man. I always thought they should’ve ended up together, too. Every time I rewatch it, I’m always rooting for them.”
I nodded, then turned back to my computer before I started talking about any of the other films I’d watched because of her offhand comments.
After a few minutes, I received Lisbeth’s email about the gala and held back a sigh. Bridget’s phone buzzed at the same time. I watched her read the email from behind my laptop screen. As I suspected, her face blanched. She always struck me as an introvert, too.
“A gala?” she asked, turning towards me. It sounded like an accusation. “Please tell me this invitation was a mistake.”
“Unfortunately not. Lisbeth and I just discussed it, and she made it very clear we’re expected to go.” I forced my gaze back to the laptop screen.
“Wait, what gala? Am I not invited?” Anvi sounded devastated.
Bridget sighed. “Check your email. I’m sure you’re invited, too. I wish I wasn’t.”
Anvi scurried out to grab her phone from the office. I was briefly proud that she hadn’t brought it into the lab after I’d admonished her for getting distracted by it when she was supposed to be cleaning the centrifuge.
“You’re sure she wants me to go?” Bridget asked. She looked skeptical. “Unbonded Omegas aren’t usually invited to stuff like that. Unless it’s a coming-out ball.”
Her face was full of disdain.
“What is a coming-out ball?” I asked. I’d never heard the term.
She wrinkled her nose. “It’s what some packs do when their children present as Omegas, or when they’re old enough if they present early.
Packs get together to throw a big party, introducing the Omegas to ‘society.’ But what they’re really doing is presenting them to all the packs that would be acceptable choices for bonding.
It’s kind of old-fashioned, but it still happens. ”
There was so much about pack dynamics that I’d never learned. My parents had certainly never taken me to some kind of Omega meet and greet. Granted, my parents were both Betas. My mother still hadn’t stopped trying to set me up with her friends’ daughters, though.
“I’m guessing you weren’t part of one?” If she had been, a pack would have chosen her as their Omega before the end of the night.
“No. But not for lack of trying by my fathers.” Her face was dark with an expression I couldn’t fully read, anger and sadness and determination all mixed together.
After a moment, she forced another smile.
“Obviously, Lisbeth trusts that I won’t embarrass her.
The fact that I’ve never started perfuming in the middle of the lab probably helps. ”
As usual, the thought of Bridget’s scent spiked my heart rate. I cleared my throat. “Well. If anyone makes you uncomfortable at the event, just let me know.”
“How many times do I need to tell you? I don’t need rescuing,” Bridget said, a little exasperated.
“And how many times do I need to tell you it’s okay to get help from a friend?” I stood and stretched. I’d go check on the cells, even though they didn’t need it, to clear my head of thoughts of Bridget’s perfume.
She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “We’re friends now? I wasn’t aware.”
It was the perfect time to say no, back away, put up the barrier again. But then I pictured how Bridget’s face might fall if I did. “Yes. My condolences.”
Her smile stole my breath. “I guess I accept, then.”
I was already walking toward the cleanroom. “I’m going to check on the incubators.”