Chapter 42
By this point Aaron had grown tired of approving time off for Emmett’s frequent “medical appointments.” Feigning no interest or concern for his well-being, he replied to Emmett’s text, Just do what you need to do.
He arrived at the Monstera offices at ten minutes to nine and was escorted upstairs by the waiflike intern who’d emailed him.
She delivered him to the open door of a conference room. Four tables had been pushed together to form a larger one, where Dr. Saito sat with three colleagues. Emmett’s stomach clenched; the presence of so many seemed foreboding.
“Emmett, so nice to see you again,” Saito said, walking around the table to shake his hand. “Thank you for coming in.” Her grip was weak, but her eyes gleamed with hard light.
In turn, she introduced her colleagues: Pamela Clemmons Dixon, VP of public affairs; Donald Cohrs, director of regulatory affairs; and Rachael Witzens, Monstera’s “comms and social media wizard.”
Emmett puzzled at the mix of titles; he’d been expecting legal counsel.
“Please, have a seat,” Saito said, walking back around the table. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.”
Emmett sat. “The email said it was urgent?”
“Timely perhaps, but nothing serious. Hope we didn’t worry you.”
His tension was easing, but still.
“How’ve you been finding the trial since the last time we spoke? I know you were experiencing some side effects. Have the memory issues resolved?”
Emmett answered honestly: “They have.”
Everyone on Saito’s side of the table seemed relieved. “That’s great. I have to say, Emmett, we are all so impressed with your progress. You’re truly a star participant in our eyes, and we’re delighted to see how well Obexity’s been working for you.”
He was surprised. “Thanks for letting me be a part of it. It’s changed my life.” You have no idea how much.
“Your online following too, isn’t that right?”
“Sorry?”
“It was our chief science officer, Dr. Smith, who brought it to our attention. He sends his apologies for not joining today, by the way.” The others smirked, as if amused by the idea of the enigmatic Dr. Smith in the flesh.
“Dr. Smith’s taken a special interest in you.
He hand-selected you to participate in the trial, did you know that? ”
“Hand-selected me?” Emmett said. “Why—?”
“He’s been monitoring your progress online and has been extremely impressed. How many followers do you have now?”
“Almost forty thousand,” Emmett said, distracted by one of his favorite topics. “Picked up quite a few after my wobble, actually.”
“Wow,” Cohrs muttered.
“I’m one of them,” Pamela said.
“Me too,” added Rachael, “and—all right if I jump in, Jenni?”
“Please.”
The young communications expert addressed Emmett, ebullient.
“I’ve been following you on Instagram since Dr. Smith told us about your account, and I’m just in love with your content.
You’re so talented. The amount of engagement you’ve been able to generate in such a short space of time is next level.
Usually it takes years to build up an audience like that. ”
“I’m sure it’s just the effects of the Obexity,” Emmett said.
“I don’t this so, I think it’s you. How real you are. Sooo many people struggle with their weight, and you’ve never shied away from that struggle. To see you blossom like you have over the last few months, it’s inspiring, even to people who aren’t, uh—” She faltered. “What I mean is—”
“What is this about, exactly?” Emmett said.
Rachael looked to her superiors for support.
“I’ll go,” said Donald Cohrs, a curt suited man with disheveled hair.
“Now, I don’t know shit about PR or social media.
My job is to make sure our products are in compliance with state and federal regulatory requirements and to oversee the FDA approval process.
Unfortunately, the results of the Phase One Obexity trial raised some eyebrows in the federal government—”
“Just a couple of anomalies that we’ve since addressed,” Saito clarified. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Well, they’re still giving us a hard time,” continued Cohrs. “Because of that, there’s a chance our application won’t be approved. No FDA approval—”
“No Obexity,” Emmett finished.
“You get it. We’re taking a proactive approach, leveraging our political connections to change the rules around consumer safety—”
“What we mean is,” interjected Saito with a hint of impatience, “we’re trying to get the FDA to consider the long-term health benefits of a product when reviewing application data that may be anomalous or inconclusive.
We strongly believe that the sooner we get this product to market, the sooner we can start saving lives. ”
“Where do I come in?” Emmett asked.
“You see, the FDA has an obligation to consider public input on any proposed rule changes,” Saito said. “In fact, it’s often the deciding factor.”
“So you want me to, what, write them a letter? Tell them the drug is safe?”
Pamela answered, a stunningly beautiful Black woman with toned arms and pin-straight, steel-gray hair.
“When the call comes for public comment, we hope you’ll raise your voice.
But that might be a while yet. What we’d like to do is get ahead of all that by generating excitement for Obexity, putting pressure on the FDA to approve.
As one of our most successful trial participants, with a passionate and growing online following, we think you’d make an incredible spokesperson for the product. ”
“You mean…”
“We want you to be the face of Obexity.”
Emmett didn’t know what to think. “What about my NDA?”
“We’ll fix that,” Saito said. “We just ask for your continued discretion until the partnership is formally announced.”
When Emmett went quiet again, she added, “Of course, we wouldn’t take up your time without fair compensation.
We’ve put together a package we think may interest you.
” She produced a written proposal and slid it across the table.
“Including both a generous fee and an earned incentive based on the number of impressions generated.”
“You mean, the more followers I have, the more money I get.”
“In a nutshell.”
Emmett scanned through the document. His eyes stopped and his lips parted in surprise at a number more than five times his annual salary.
“In addition to the financial compensation, we’d like to offer you a complimentary lifetime supply of Obexity, to allow you to maintain your healthy body after the end of the trial—assuming the FDA approves the product, of course.”
Obexity for life? If he remembered right, that was potentially worth millions. More than that: money couldn’t buy the way he felt about himself on the treatment.
“Of course, we don’t expect you to make a decision right now. Think about it. But this needs to stay under wraps until we go public with the partnership. That’s very important. You understand.”
“What would that look like?” Emmett asked. “Going public.”
Rachael jumped in. “We’d work with you on that.
You know your audience best, so we’d want you to help drive the strategy.
But we’re thinking an announcement over social and on the Monstera website, maybe a press release.
Then a national campaign—digital, print, billboard.
We’ve been looking at key markets, mostly Deep South, Texas, parts of the Midwest, LA and New York of course—”
“You’ll think about it,” Saito cut across her.
Emmett opened his mouth to object.
“You’ll think about it,” she repeated. She wasn’t asking.
A few minutes later, Saito walked Emmett to the elevator. “You have my number if you have any questions.” She pressed the button. “Anything at all.”
“Thanks. I’ll—”
“Let me know early next week.” The elevator arrived with a ding. A placid smile, or something like it, glinted on her lips. “Have a healthy and happy rest of your day.”
She stood, smiling and waving, until the doors slid closed.
Emmett felt anxious and conflicted as he rode the elevator down.
It was an incredible opportunity. Potentially life-changing.
But Saito and the others, they didn’t understand what the drug had done to him, what it had turned him into.
Surely even the most unscrupulous, profit-obsessed company in the world wouldn’t choose a known cannibal as their spokesperson.
He ought to come clean. Force them to halt the clinical trial and cancel the product altogether.
But that would mean a legal inquiry. And more frightening still, no more Obexity. Back to his old life. His old self.
The thought of it turned his blood to slush.
On the other hand, here was an opportunity not only to lock in his new body for life and earn ridiculous amounts of money doing it, but to show the world who he really was.
With his face splashed across magazines and billboards, they would see him, and love him, not for who he’d been, but for what Obexity had made him.
And if they accepted him this way, maybe he could too.