4. Chapter Four Jade
Chapter Four: Jade
I was so out of place here.
I slipped through the grand entrance of the Upper East Side’s most opulent event space, the echo of my heels lost amidst a symphony of clinking glasses and cultured laughter. Friday evening had draped New York City in its finest, but the splendor of the charity gala could have been a universe away from the sterile confines of BioHQ lab where I toiled over petri dishes and gene sequences.
“Stick with me, Jade,” Ellie murmured, her grip on my arm both comforting and grounding. The weight of our mission settled on my shoulders like a lead cloak—we were here to sell our life’s work, to charm the deep pockets into funding our research.
She looked gorgeous; her curls tamed into an intricate updo, her petite form adorned in a glittering black dress that fit her like a second skin. She had a way of holding herself that commanded attention, and I couldn’t help but admire her charisma. I was sure I didn’t look half as good, though I’d done my best. I was wearing a navy-blue dress that accentuated my curves, the fabric hugging my body with a subtle allure. The plunging neckline was a divergence from my usual high-neck blouses and lab coats, but Ellie had insisted that we blend in with the elite crowd.
I had straightened my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders in a cascade of dark silk, the stark contrast to my ice-blue eyes. As I caught sight of myself in one of the many gilded mirrors adorning the hall, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of playing a part - of being a scientist dressed up as a socialite.
Our plan was simple, or at least Ellie made it sound that way. Mingle with the city’s influential and convince them of the importance of our biotech research. Only, these were not my people. I would have felt more at home discussing genome sequencing with my lab rat colonies than trying to impress these bejeweled socialites with palatable science chatter.
The room was a carousel of wealth and influence, each face another opportunity, every handshake a potential lifeline to keep our experiments running. I repeated the key points of our project in my head, refining the pitch to perfection as Ellie’s eyes flicked across the crowd, identifying the movers and shakers with the precision of a hawk eyeing prey.
“Remember, these people invest in confidence just as much as they do in ideas,” Ellie reminded me, her voice a whisper lost in the hum of conversations and orchestral strings playing somewhere in the distance. It was true; we had to be the embodiment of the innovation we promised—poised, persuasive, unyieldingly passionate.
“Why isn’t this Dr. White’s job?” I said. “Why do we have to be here? We’re just lackeys.”
“Because we’re women,” Ellie replied. “Women in STEM. Looks good to investors.”
I laughed quietly. “That’s gross, El.”
“Hey, I didn’t make the rules,” she replied. “You remember what we talked about?”
“Yes, pretend to be confident,” I said, though my stomach twisted into knots at the thought of delivering our spiel to the city’s elite, whose interest in biotechnology likely began and ended at the tax deductions it provided.
Ellie gave my hand a quick, reassuring squeeze before releasing it, leaving me to navigate this sea of potential benefactors on my own. I took a deep breath, clutching the stem of my wine glass like a lifeline, and prepared to dive into the depths.
Just as I steadied my nerves to take the plunge, Ellie’s path veered off course. Mrs. White, Dr. Stuart White’s wife approached her. She looked beautiful with her silver hair coiffed into an intricate updo and diamonds at her throat, catching Ellie by the arm with a gloved hand. “Dr. Harper,” she trilled, her voice carrying a melody of old money and practiced charm, “you simply must meet some friends of mine.”
Ellie cast a glance back at me, her eyes apologetic but insistent—this was an opportunity we couldn’t afford to miss. With a reluctant nod, she allowed Mrs. White to steer her towards a cluster of potential donors, each one more imposing than the last.
Alone now, the gala seemed to swell around me, its opulence suddenly suffocating. The laughter was too loud, the smiles too bright, the clinking of glassware piercing. My life’s work, hours upon hours spent in the sterile sanctuary of the lab, felt inconsequential—a mere whisper drowned out by the symphony of self-indulgence that played on around me.
I shifted uncomfortably, aware of the space Ellie’s absence left beside me. She was the extrovert, the schmoozer, the one who could charm skeptics into believers with nothing but her wit and a well-placed fact. Without her, I was just a scientist out of her element, adrift in a sea of tailored suits and silk gowns that whispered along the marble floor as their wearers glided past.
“Focus, Jade,” I told myself. “Remember why you’re here.” The mantra was a feeble attempt to anchor me to the mission at hand. I took a sip of wine, its bubbles doing little to lift the weight of isolation pressing against my chest as I watched Ellie mingle, her laughter reaching me from across the room like a lifeline I couldn’t quite grasp.
Still, I knew I had to try. For the sake of our research, for the future that hung precariously on the whims of these strangers, I would have to find my footing and step forward into the tide. But oh, how vast the ocean seemed without Ellie by my side.
The wine in my hand was just one more prop in a scene I didn’t understand. It’s not like the crisp taste could wash away the tension knotted in my stomach. I scanned the crowd again, hoping for someone to latch onto, someone who looked like they believed in more than just the next big investment opportunity.
That’s when he caught my eye.
Across the room, surrounded by a pack of well-dressed vultures, stood a man with an aura that commanded attention without begging for it. The soft lighting seemed to wrap around him like a spotlight meant only for him. He was a stark figure against the opulence of the gala, a silent testament to power and restraint.
I’d seen him before, and my breath caught in my throat.
Dante Moretti.
His presence was a gravitational pull, and before I knew it, my body had inched closer, as if on its own accord. My eyes traced the lines of his face, noting the sharp jawline and the way his dark hair fell just so, brushing against his brow with a casual elegance that seemed almost out of place amidst the rest.
I shook my head slightly, trying to dispel the ridiculous thoughts that clouded my mind. Ellie had mentioned him…but I was telling myself that he was completely out of my league.
His eyes met mine, and in that moment, the clamor of the room seemed to mute, the world narrowing down to the silent conversation between us.
I could feel my cheeks burning.
But just as quickly as our connection sparked, it extinguished. Another well-dressed figure approached him, hand extended, and Dante’s focus shifted. The intensity that had cocooned us evaporated, leaving me strangely hollow. Who was I kidding? Men like him didn’t look twice at women like me—not unless they wanted something. And yet, I hadn’t been able to decipher what lay behind his fleeting interest.
I took a small sip of my wine, the effervescence failing to lift the weight that had settled in my chest. It wasn’t like me to be so affected by someone—especially someone whose name I barely even knew. This wasn’t part of my meticulously planned evening.
“Dr. Bentley,” a voice called, jolting me from my thoughts.
“Right here,” I answered, turning towards the source—a potential investor I recognized from a recent biotech conference. As we engaged in the necessary pleasantries and discussed my work, I couldn’t help but feel the draw of Dante’s gravity, my attention split between my words and the place in the crowd where he had stood.
The crowd around me buzzed with a mix of greed and ambition, yet all I could feel was the silent pull toward the man who now monopolized my every thought. Dante Moretti, a name that rolled off the tongue with an exotic and dangerous cadence, was an enigma, his aura thick with unspoken power and secrets.
“Dr. Bentley, are you sure you’re alright?” the investor asked, concern lining his face as he caught my distracted gaze.
“Absolutely,” I assured him, snapping back to attention. “Forgive me, just... considering the next phase of our project.” A lie that tasted bitter on my tongue, but necessary to mask my unruly fascination. “You were saying you’re interested in the research?”
I really hoped he was going to mention his own name, but he didn’t.
“Yes, indeed,” he said, straightening his bowtie. “Your work on genetic sequencing is most impressive, Dr. Bentley. I am curious to know about the potential applications.”
I nodded, trying to focus on the conversation and push all thoughts of Dante Moretti away. Now was not the time to fantasize about a man who would barely ever look my way.
“Well, the science behind genetic sequencing has the potential to revolutionize medicine,” I began, launching into the rehearsed spiel Ellie and I had practiced when faced with potential investors.
He listened attentively, nodding along and prompting me with thoughtful questions. But as I spoke, my gaze kept wandering back to Dante, magnetically drawn to him. I could see him engaging in hushed conversations with various guests, his charming smile never reaching his eyes.
“The implications are enormous,” I continued, “from identifying predisposition to genetic diseases to revolutionizing personalized medicine.” The investor seemed interested, nodding along and asking thoughtful questions – a refreshing change from the apathy an unfortunate majority of these high-flyers had shown tonight. Feeling a surge of hope, I found myself warming up to the conversation.
He was listening until someone called him. “Excuse me for a second, Dr. Bentley,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere. I want to continue this conversation.”
“Of course,” I said.
And then he turned away, and all the work that I had done seemed to disappear in smoke. I had a horrible headache and it was only getting worse. Ellie was still engaged in conversation with Dr. White’s wife and my gaze immediately went to Dante Moretti again, who was speaking to the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life.
The night had been a wash. Things weren’t going anywhere and I just needed to get away-go home and curl up with a book, leave the fundraising to the person who was good at it, and make use of my vibrator as I thought about the hottest man I’d ever seen in real life.
Maybe I’d just need to go back to being successful in the lab, since clearly, I wasn’t going to be successful at this party.
That’s why I had to get away.