20. Stone Cold
20
STONE COLD
MAISY
I had been so busy preparing for the evening’s event—my big moment, the culmination of everything I’d built at Orion—that I barely recognized how stressed I was until I stepped into the sensory room. It was quiet. Still. Peaceful. I flicked on the aromatherapy diffuser, letting the subtle scent of bergamot and cedarwood ease into the air. I cradled a steaming mug of herbal tea—decaf, mint and chamomile—and took a seat by the window.
The sunshine spilled across the floor in golden stripes. For a minute, I just breathed. In and out. Letting the silence soak into my bones, letting the stress peel off like layers of old skin. The room was working—my room, my project. I had created this space for moments just like this.
An assistant popped in quietly, setting down a package and stacks of the evening’s programs. After they left, I sighed and dove back in.
I reached first for the package, and recognized Brooks’ handwriting instantly. When did he have time to send this? Before our argument or after?
I opened it up and inside was an adorable box with little compartments inside, each one filled with things, like my favorite gum, tea bags, and hand lotion, a fidget ring, a pretty pen with water inside that when tilted one way or the other it mimicked ocean waves—all things I can use to manage my anxiety.
My hands shook while I opened his note and read it.
Maisy—
Behold, The Maisy Survival Kit. Today is your special day, and because I know you so well, you’ll be high on anxiety. Don’t worry. Don’t stress. You’ve got this, babe. And I’ll be right there in the front row, you’re biggest cheerleader and number one fan.
—B
I wanted to cry. Oh, God. All the heartache of last night rushed back. I pushed away the one person who meant the most to me. Brooks had been nothing but caring, kind, and patient. He listened and learned about my world and applied them to my every day life, knowing exactly what I needed and when.
But I pushed him away. I couldn’t say if he’d really be there in the front row tonight or not. Who would blame him if he wasn’t?
I sent him a text. Called him and left a voicemail. And sent another text, hoping he’d reach out to me. I wanted him with me tonight.
Because once tonight was over, I’d go back to being just little old me. The small town girl from Holly Creek. The woman with a lot of lessons to learn about balancing life, work, and love. If he’d only show up tonight, I’d promise to let him in, and give this one more try again.
I dabbed at my tears, sniffling, and reached for one of the programs. On the cover was a photo of me, standing at this very window, arms folded, sunlight behind me. I looked confident and proud.
Under the title of the event, the Buchanan name appeared prominently as the sponsors. Everyone I loved would be attending tonight, mom, Chelsea and Rex, Vivian and Richard and even little Paris, Sophie, too—everyone but Brooks.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the rising emotions over our fallout last night. Everything threatened to hit at once from regret for the things I said to simply longing for him to hold me, to be here, to share in this victory which was as much his as mine. If he’d call me back, I’d apologize, even if he might not forgive me. I wouldn't blame him, but he should be here tonight. This was as much his victory as mine.
Inside the program, a photo of Patterson with the Buchanans appeared, only this one included Miriam and her husband Mr. Astor. The caption praised the family for their generous donations as benefactors of Orion.
The middle of the program contained the schedule for the evening but one thing immediately caught my eye.
My heart sank.
Julian Thorne. Listed as the opening speaker. The one to introduce me.
Despite the sensory room, fury buzzed in my ears. No one had asked. No one had told me. If they had, I would’ve said no. Absolutely not. He had no place in this moment.
Would I never be free of him?
Still gripping the program, I stormed up the stairs to Julian’s office. When I reached it, the lights were off, but the door was cracked. I pushed it open and stepped inside. He wasn't there, so I'd wait. I paced as the adrenaline pumped through me. How had this happened? This was supposed to be mine . My night.
I turned toward his desk, desperate for answers. I gasped at what I saw. His computer screen was still active, displaying a colorful graph. One I knew too well. A graph from my presentation.
I stepped closer. My entire presentation and findings appeared there. I'd only sent this to Dr. Stone and Dr. Patterson. But there was one major difference. Julian's name topped the document. Mine was second, listed as a collaborator.
“What the?—?”
My mind dizzied, heart hammering. And just like that, I was back on the ship. The final night before everything changed…
It had been a long day aboard the research vessel—turbulent seas and turbulent tempers. I was hunched over my laptop in the ship's lab, headphones in, eyes burning as I typed the final paragraphs of my environmental-stimuli stress modulation findings. I’d been fine-tuning the data all week, building and layering it with other metrics I'd been quietly developing for months.
This was it. My idea from start to finish, and what I'd base my graduate thesis on. The one Julian had encouraged—tentatively at first, but with more enthusiasm after our last team review.
“There you are. Diligently working even on our last night on board?” Julian’s voice floated in, too warm and too casual for the fatigue settling into her spine. He carried with him a bottle of champagne and two paper cups. "You're something else Maisy Calhoun. You always impress me."
"What's this?" I glanced up, removing one earbud, then took the cup he held out. He poured and filled it almost to the top with the bubbly liquid, and took the seat next to mine.
"You missed the crew party. So I thought we could have our own celebration. Cheers. You were incredible this entire cruise." The praise in his voice resonated.
I touched my cup to his and sipped. "Thank you. I couldn't have had a better time, mostly due to you and your mentorship."
" Friendship. As of tomorrow, you're no longer my student, no longer working for me... I'd say that graduates us to a new level, don't you?" As his hand reached out for me knee I saw it coming, and shifted fast in my seat, facing back to my laptop. My mind raced. After all of this, was there a price to pay for his attention?
"Um, yes. Friends ." I scrambled, regretting now how close we'd become, but you can't spend a year and a half in close quarters like this and not because the closes of friends. But something about his advances felt off.
I shifted my laptop for him to see my work. "And as friends, I'd like to share with you thatI’m submitting for the GradSci Annual—there’s a special call for groundbreaking collegiate research. It could be a big opportunity for me."
Julian smiled faintly, and reached a hand out to touch my shoulder. "Ambitious. You always are.”
I didn’t look up, wishing he'd remove his hand. No sparks were there, no thrills down my spine, no taking my breath away—not at all like Brooks.
“I'd love for you to read what I've written so far. It needs to reflect the full scope of the research I’ve conducted on board. The stress feedback models, the environmental stimuli pairing, the hormone modulation—I’ve gathered so much data.”
He was quiet, hardly leaning in for a closer look.
I finally asked, “What?”
He chewed his cheek and finally removed his hand, placing it on the back of my chair. "I’m not sure that’s the best idea. That particular journal is extremely competitive, and... well, it would be more strategic to wait. Submit something more co-authored, as a team, is best.”
My stomach turned. "So I should delay sharing my own work so it can include your name?” Everything to date had been in Julian's name. Had he been using me, all of us on board, for his advantage, this entire time? Never allowing any of us to co-author?
He tilted his head. "Maisy, I’ve invested time and energy into mentoring you. Into helping shape this project. My guidance is all over it. That’s called partnership.”
Friendship to partnership... the entire time manipulated on this ship. I closed my laptop and held it protectively to my chest, biting my tongue from saying more.
He pulled something up on his phone and showed it to me, the cover of another publication with his name on an article. “In fact, I’ve already submitted an early draft of the concept—more polished, of course—to a major publication under my name. Just to get a feel for their interest.”
I stood slowly. "You what?”
He didn’t flinch. “It’s better this way. If we get their attention with my draft, we can loop you in later. It’ll have more weight with my name, you'll be associated, build some clout.”
The floor shifted beneath me. The hum of the boat contributing to the tightness in my chest.
“No,” I said, voice shaking. “You didn’t believe in the idea until I ran the cortisol trials. I wrote the findings. That research is mine.”
Julian met my eyes in a stare where friendship definitely did not exist. "Careful, Maisy. Don’t burn bridges you still need to cross. You’ve got potential—but only if you play this smart."
I shook my head slowly. “You don’t want me to succeed. You want me to stay under you, just enough to make you look good.”
He said nothing. And that was my answer. I stalked out, almost regretting this entire cruise.
That night, alone in my bunk, I packed my things and backed up my entire project to an encrypted drive, sent a copy to myself, and knew—no matter what came next—I’d never let anyone take credit for my work again.
The ship docked the next morning. Julian had offered a quiet goodbye, saying he’d keep in touch. I nodded and said as little as possible, when I should have shouted what a devious man he was instead. Fear kept me quiet. He knew people and organizations and as I ventured out into the world to start my career, speaking out could be detrimental.
But a year later, seeking a better job, he contacted me about the Orion opportunity. “There’s a slot opening in my department I think you’d be perfect for. I’ll recommend you. If you’re still serious about this field, it could be your chance to go big.”
I'd hesitated—but Orion was the dream. Top of the field. Impossible to ignore.If I interviewed and got the job, I promised myself, I’d keep my guard up when it came to Julian...
Despite all of that, and my best intentions, now I sat here in his office at Orion, staring at my proposal on his computer screen with his name all over it, wondering how it got there. How had he managed to steal my work again? How did I let this happen?
Devastated, my heart plummeted, a dull ache blooming in my chest like a bruise. My hands shook, breath stuttering in my lungs as my vision blurred around the edges, unmoored by betrayal. But I acted fast. I took my phone out and snapped photos of anything I could use to prove his wrongdoings. I quickly brought his email up and sent a copy of it to myself as well. Then I rushed out, brushing past him.
"Maisy? What were doing in my office?" He called after me. But I didn't stop. Not until I took the elevator to the top floor and reached Dr. Stone's door, bypassing her assistant. On a mission to call out the truth once and for all, to burn Julian as a traitor to women everywhere, I knocked loudly.
"Enter," she called from within.
I breezed in and placed my phone in front of her where the most incriminating evidence was—his name on an exact copy of my work.
"Julian can't be trusted," I started, then began filling her in about our time on the ship, about his subtle manipulations. She listened in earnest, nodding, swiping through the photos.
Until the man himself jumped through the door, breathless.
"Dr. Stone, I'm afraid Maisy has taken my data. She's disappointed me with the lengths she'll go to for her own benefit." He glared at me, lying about everything, twisting everything around.
Incredulous, I balked. I wouldn’t stay silent this time. "How dare you? You know that work is mine. You're the one who took it."
Dr. Stone pushed up from her chair, leaning menacingly over her desk, pointing a finger at him like a dagger. "I believe Maisy is telling the truth.”
“That’s rich, Stone. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, standing up for her simply because of her gender.” He snarled, his true colors coming to light.
“From the moment you started working here I've observed the way you operate, Julian. I've long-suspected your control and manipulations, and now I have proof. I'll have you fired. You might as well start packing."
She yelled for her assistant to call in someone from HR. I breathed in at last, holding my head higher. Finally free of him.
He sneered form the doorway. "Before you go thinking you're on the side of right, Maisy, why don't you ask Dr. Stone this question: Out of all the brilliant minds working here at Orion... dozens of proposals submitted for the idea competition... Why did they select yours? Hm?"
"I don't know what you're getting on about. You're just a vial, pathetic man who can't admit that I won." I shook my head.
Dr. Stone stepped around her desk. "Julian. Out. Now."
"Why did they pick yours, Maisy? Could it be because of your family connections to the Buchanans?" He persisted, and I gasped.
"Shut up, Julian." Dr. Stone physically tried to shove him out, but his hands latched onto the door jamb.
"She was in on it with Patterson," he yelled.
I took a good hard look at her, the woman I'd revered—she wasn't denying his accusation. Was she any better than him? Even at her level, was there a certain game she had to play among the men to keep her own power from slipping?
She yelled to her assistant, "Call security."
He wouldn't be deterred, keeping his eyes on me. "Patterson is seen as this great prophet in science circles, but in reality he's a money hungry and power hungry bastard. He picked your proposal as a way to get in even deeper with the billionaires and raid their pockets. You're nothing but a pawn in Patterson's game, Maisy."
"No..." I let out a shaky breath, wrapping my head around all of it. What was the truth between all these layers of betrayal? Why was I the fool in all of it?
My chest ached and tears flowed as I thought back over my time here at Orion. Was it worth it? I'd wanted to succeed to make my own way, and now it's come to this?
To make matters worse, I'd pushed away the one man who truly believed in me. Brooks... I had to find him.
I needed him. I wanted him. He was the only person involved in all of this I could trust. And yet I pushed him away.
Dr. Stone and Julian got into a physical struggle and shouting match until she finally succeeded at shoving him out. But before she could slam the door, I ran out past both of them. I had to get away. I couldn't stand to be in their presence another minute.