Chapter One
Kendra Allenby entwined her fingers, rested her hands on her desk and gave Alexander Beauchamp a level stare. “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Beauchamp,” she said, her tone flat, “I am not leaving Moffitt, and that is my final answer.”
Mr. Beauchamp flashed her a perfectly charming smile that nevertheless did nothing for Kendra. “While MCC is certainly a fine establishment, I sincerely doubt it can offer you the kind of working conditions and financial compensation Roche Laboratories can,” he said. “Not to mention the years it might take you to become Head of Hematology – a position we are ready to offer you right now.”
“Moffitt provides me with the kind of work I want to do,” she replied, managing to maintain her calm despite the slight edge of annoyance creeping into her voice. “The kind that allows me to work for the good of the general public, rather than a shadowy organization with a mysterious billionaire benefactor at its helm.”
Mr. Beauchamp cocked an eyebrow. “You make it all sound so... ominous.” He tried to endear himself to her with a bit of humor, but Kendra was not amused. “Roche Laboratories may be privately owned and funded, but we are no more secretive than, say, Monsanto, or any other organization that heavily relies on research and invention to achieve success.”
“You do realize that Monsanto comparison is making my case for me?” Kendra asked, deadpan – a comment that finally broke Mr. Beauchamp’s amiable façade.
“Dr. Allenby...” he began, rather condescendingly, thus choosing both the wrong tone and the wrong words for this conversation. “Let me be perfectly clear. Yes, you are undisputedly an expert in your field and Roche Laboratories’ first choice, but you are certainly not our only one. Furthermore, considering the debt your student loan has racked up, I’m not so sure you can afford to refuse our offer.”
Resisting the urge to punch the arrogant twit, Kendra instead pressed a button her intercom, not once breaking their eye contact. “Yes, Dr. Allenby?” Dan Swenson, the desk clerk on duty at the reception, answered promptly.
“Mr. Beauchamp will be leaving now,” she said, her tone even. Dan didn’t need further instruction. Just a moment later, two security guards were inside Kendra’s office, standing by Mr. Beauchamp’s chair, ready to escort him out of the building by force if need be, and making their intention clear through the sheer force of body language.
At first, Mr. Beauchamp just sat there, ignoring them while he watched her with the kind of keenness that made her feel uncomfortable before he blinked and stood up calmly. “Very well, Dr. Allenby,” he said and, followed by the guards, exited her office without any further comments.
Kendra counted to fifteen and then let out a loud, frustrated groan as she dropped into her chair. This, this right here was why she entered relationships so rarely! Nursing male egos and dealing with their self-entitlement was both exhausting and frustrating, and she had lost both the patience and the will to put up with that for the sake of companionship years ago.
Some five minutes later, Dan came into the office with a cup of coffee in his hands to find Kendra focused on her work again, deeply engrossed in the reports of the most recent lab work. “So what’s the deal with Hottie McSnotty?” he asked as he approached her and put the coffee on her desk. Clearly, Dan was just as impressed by Mr. Beauchamp’s physique as he was disappointed with his attitude.
“He’s from Roche Laboratories,” she told him, in a considerably warmer tone now that the cause of her irritation was gone, and smiled to him gratefully. He made the best coffee, strong and black, with just a pinch of cinnamon to brighten the flavor.
Dan sat down, frowning. “Dr. Duquesne’s stomping grounds?” he asked, and Kendra nodded.
“They want me to take over for him,” she said, prompting Dan whistle and raise his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she told him straight up. “We’re staying right where we are.”
Dan smirked. “I know,” he said. “You’re way too invested in the work here to quit. But, for the record, I think you’re making a huge mistake.” Kendra gave him a hostile stare, but he knew her too well to be perturbed by it. “Oh, come on,” he teased her. “Aren’t you even a little bit tempted?”
She shook her head. “No,” she replied categorically, “I don’t know what their deal is, but it gives me the heebie-jeebies. Nobody offers that kind of position or that kind of money to someone who’s barely made their full credentials, even if they’re as good as I am.”
She expected Dan to make a joke about her lack of modesty, but he just nodded gravely. “You don’t trust them,” he said.
“Not one bit,” she confirmed.
“Dr. Duquesne did,” he noted.
Kendra sighed, sitting back in her chair. Yes, her mentor had seemed to think that leaving the Moffitt Cancer Center & Research Institute for a private research facility was the right thing to do, but Kendra couldn’t help but be heavily disappointed with him. She had felt betrayed when he’d announced his decision the year before, and they’d had a huge falling out as a result. She was sure they’d never even talk to each other again... but then, about a month and a half ago, he started sending her emails, asking if they could meet. At first, she refused, but he knew her too well – he started sending her microscopic images and laboratory results of blood and tissue that behaved in a way that, frankly, should not have been possible, tickling her curiosity until she finally gave in and met up with him.
A part of her hoped this would be the start of their reconciliation, but even though their relationship improved, it was clear it would never be what it once was. Dr. Duquesne refused to give her any more information than he absolutely had to, which made each of their meetings both a delight and a major source of frustration. And now that he was dead, all hope that they could truly patch things up (or that she’d ever find out what the hell he was working on) was gone.
They had had one of their meetings scheduled for the day he died, but he had never showed up or answered his phone, leaving Kendra irritated and angry, thinking she was being stood up without a word... and then devastated with pain and guilt when, that evening, she had seen the news of the car accident that took his life. Relying on eyewitness accounts, the police suspected a drunk truck driver took a wrong turn, slamming into Dr. Duquesne’s rental and killing him on the spot before fleeing the scene of the crime.
Kendra was heartbroken and disgusted with herself for how angry she’d been with him that entire day. The only reason Dr. Duquesne was in Tampa that day was to meet with her, and she couldn’t help feeling responsible even though she knew she was being irrational. He had chosen to look her up. He had set the meetings up. She wasn’t even marginally to blame, but her heart still hurt every time she remembered he was gone, and the only thing that brought her joy in the ten days after the accident was the thought of her upcoming vacation.
But even the memory of him, even the prestige and money that would come with taking over his job at Roche Laboratories, even a chance to finally see what this mysterious and baffling thing he was working on was couldn’t convince her to leave Moffitt. If Mr. Beauchamp had been more upfront about the kind of work Roche did, she would’ve been tempted, but he was even vaguer than Dr. Duquesne, and Kendra refused to risk her peace of mind to satisfy her curiosity or clean her credit score.
“It doesn’t matter,” she finally said, “I’m staying here, and that’s that. And, besides, I’ll be damned if I’m gonna miss Maui just to dive into even more work than I have here.” She grinned, gladdened by remembering that, this time tomorrow, she’d be lying about on a beach in a private resort, completely cut off from any communication with the rest of the world. She had worked for three years without a single day off to make it happen, and she wouldn’t miss it for the world.
“Can’t argue with that logic,” Dan grinned and stood up to go about his business, leaving Kendra to go back to hers.
She had quite as few things to finish up before she could go home to pick up her luggage and get to the airport.