Chapter 3 - Bridget #2
I hesitated, and Nathan jumped in. “The research is sound. Omega stem cells are universally compatible, based on our research, and Bridget’s — I mean Ms. Crawford’s — earlier research into Omega cell structures shows an increased inflammatory response that leads to faster healing for their injuries.
If this inflammatory response holds true for donor cells, we expect more robust results than standard allogeneic stem cell therapy. ”
Nathan knew about my other research? I finally looked at him, and he was staring at me, his expression as intense as ever.
“In other words,” he said, still looking at me. “We hope so.”
“Well put, Dr. Manalo,” Dr. Davis said. “Alright, as much as I love you, Andrew, I do have other patients. We’ll see you in two weeks for your follow up to see how things are going, okay?”
“Thank you,” Andrew said, sounding sincere. “I’ll see you then.”
I followed Dr. Davis out of the exam room and felt Nathan behind me. We regained the hallway outside, and Dr. Davis turned on me. He thrust his face uncomfortably close to mine, and I winced at his bitter, tree sap scent.
“Ms. Crawford, is it? How dare you undermine me? Don’t ever correct me in front of a patient again,” he hissed between his teeth.
I stepped backward instinctively and bumped into Nathan. He gripped my shoulders, steadying me. I could feel the heat of his palms, even through my lab coat and sweatshirt.
“Do not speak to her like that,” Nathan said, his voice cold and cutting.
Dr. Davis scoffed, but he backed down. “You’re both here because of my funding.
Don’t forget that. You’ll meet with Andrew for his follow-up appointments to check his progress, and make him feel like he’s getting the best fucking treatment available, or I will find other researchers that will. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, doctor,” I said meekly, even as rage boiled in my stomach. I made myself small, because I knew from experience that would probably get him to just leave me alone.
He scoffed again and turned away. Two nurses skirted out of his path as he passed.
I shrugged off the weight of Nathan’s hands and hurried back toward the safety of the lab.
I paused outside the door. My breath was coming fast and I could feel the beginnings of a panic attack.
I hated confrontation. It reminded me of my fathers.
They hadn’t always raised their voices when I misbehaved, and sometimes the quiet threats were worse.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, sensing the antiseptic scent of the clinic and the faint smoky, citrusy smell of Nathan next to me.
I could hear a phone ringing in the waiting room, the buzz of the lights overhead, and Nathan’s own deep inhales and exhales.
This wasn’t my old room with its stifling silence, me waiting for my fathers to arrive. I was at work; I was safe.
“Are you alright?” Nathan asked, sounding concerned. My stomach twisted with shame.
“I’m fine. Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Don’t apologize,” Nathan said, and for once he’d managed to keep the command out of his tone. I opened my eyes. Despite his gentle tone, he looked murderously angry. “He should never have spoken to you like that.”
“I should be used to it by now, honestly. He’s definitely not the first man to remind me I’m just a woman, and an Omega at that.”
Nathan growled softly in the back of his throat, shocking me.
I’d never seen him lose control. His being so incensed on my behalf was…
I yanked my mind away from the word “arousing.” Clearly my insane reaction to Andrew St. James was not completely out of my system.
Another curl of my scent rose between us.
Nathan cut off his growl abruptly. “I’m reporting his behavior to Lisbeth. ”
Panic flared in my stomach again. I’d heard too many stories of women being quietly removed from studies after submitting complaints to want to go down that road. “No, please don’t. It’s really fine.”
“It’s not,” he responded.
“Drop it, please. I don’t need you to rescue me. I’ll handle it.”
Nathan reared back as if I’d slapped him. “I don’t think you need rescuing, Bridget. But he shouldn’t get away with that kind of behavior to anyone.”
I ignored the little frisson of pleasure at hearing him say my name. That was twice in the last hour. “You heard him. In his mind, we’re all replaceable. Please drop it.”
Nathan took a deep breath, his hands clenched at his sides. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is. Now, let’s forget this happened and make sure Anvi hasn’t burned down the lab.”
I beeped through the door and joined Anvi in the clean room where she was doing viability checks.
I used the time scrubbing my hands and donning my PPE to take a few more deep breaths.
My reaction to Andrew was alarming, to say the least, and I dreaded seeing him again in two weeks, even as my traitorous body longed for another hit of his scent.
“How did it go?” Anvi asked when I joined her at the other incubator. I started doing visual checks of the culture medium, looking for cloudiness or patches of fungi. Everything looked good.
“Weird,” I said, trying to dispel the lingering tingles on my palm from where we’d shaken hands.
The familiar hum of the equipment was helping center me.
“I don’t understand why they want us to meet with him, but it’s fine.
It might even be interesting to get firsthand insight into how the treatments are going. ”
“I Googled him. Is he, like, that hot in real life? I might have to watch tennis now,” Anvi whispered.
Another bolt of lightning went through my stomach at the thought of his long, lean form. “He’s a subject. What he looks like doesn’t matter.”
Anvi laughed brightly. “So, that’s a yes. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you’re ogling the subjects.”
I shook my head, smiling. “Finish the checks, Anvi.”
I could examine my reaction to Andrew St. James later.