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Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(138)

By:Penny Reid


Kat: Can you call Dan? I’ll see him for dinner, he’ll fill me in.





Placing my phone on my lap, I gave my attention to the senior vice president of Research and Development, currently detailing the lack of funding for major divisions within his purview. I was taking notes, but said nothing. I’d dropped into the meeting unannounced, like all the other random R&D meetings I’d attended since Monday. My goal had been to observe, hoping to get a sense of Caravel’s drug discovery agenda.

So far, it seemed like Caravel’s current agenda—as mapped out by Caleb—was to maintain the status quo.

Of the meetings I’d attended thus far, this man was giving me the most valuable and comprehensive cataloguing of cuts made to R&D I’d encountered. Additionally, this cataloguing was information no one else had been willing to share with me despite my numerous—official—requests.

I didn’t doubt for a moment that Caleb was responsible for the lack of responsiveness by division leaders; Caleb was the CEO after all. As it currently stood, I didn’t have voting rights for my own shares, so what motivation did they have to respond to my requests?

However, this vice president seemed to be at his wit’s end. Perhaps he was so frustrated with my cousin, the man was willing to take one for the team, as it were. He wasn’t directing his comments to me explicitly, but it was clear the man had gone off-script because I was present, implying that severe cutbacks to drug discovery had damaged Caravel’s long-term viability.

I agreed with the senior vice president. If we weren’t researching and developing, then what were we doing? What was the point?

Another twenty minutes or so passed, maybe longer. The subject turned to adverse event reporting to the FDA and EMEA. The cell phone on my thigh buzzed, Dan’s name flashing across the screen, and my heart gave a flutter and a twist. As quietly and unobtrusively as possible, I left the room, Stan following me out and closing the door carefully behind us.

I accepted the call and brought my phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s me. I’m almost there and I’m bringing dinner, for Stan too.”

“Thank you.” I glanced over my shoulder to Stan and tilted my head down the long hall which would lead us to the elevator. “We’re on our way back to my office and will meet you there.”

“Sounds good.” I heard the turn indicator click on in his car. “Pulling into the parking garage. Hey, any trouble from Tiny Satan today?”

“No. I haven’t seen him.” I looked to Stan again and he nodded, indicating he hadn’t seen Caleb either.

“Hmm. . .”

“What?”

“It’s just, you haven’t seen him all week.”

“Yes, but he’s made his presence known by impeding through subterfuge any and all attempts to gather information. The only way I’ve been able to get a picture of what’s going on here is to attend division meetings unannounced.”

“Hmm . . .”

“What? What does Hmm mean?”

“He hasn’t tried to contact you. He’s not taunting you. Stopping the flow of information seems mild in comparison to trying to lock you away. We know he’s there, in town, showing up to work every day. Why isn’t he trying to torture you? What’s he waiting for?”

“Maybe he’s given up.” Even as I said the words I knew they were a long shot.

“You know that’s not true. He’s biding his time, waiting . . .” Dan didn’t finish his thought. I listened as the light squeaking of tires taking a sharp turn on cement sounded from his side of the call. “Never mind. Listen, I’ll see you soon. Like, five minutes soon.”

“Sounds good.”

We exchanged our goodbyes, and as the call ended, I spotted a few people walking down the hall, moving toward us. Stan shifted to my left and placed his hand on my back, inserting himself between me and the approaching group. This was the type of thing I used to hate when I was a teenager, when my assigned security detail would hover, stand between me and other people.

But now, with Stan, who I knew and liked, I found myself not really noticing enough to care.

I recognized one of the cluster from her picture—Dr. Carlyle—a member of R&D from Dr. Branson’s old group, before he’d been downsized. Dr. Branson was the scientist who’d been let go by Caleb’s special order and then, according to Marie and Matt, had immediately received funding from some unknown source to continue his work on a small island in the Caribbean.

I’d made it a point to look up Dr. Branson and his team after speaking with Janie this past Wednesday about Marie and Matt’s information.