CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

Despite all her efforts, Mia had missed her usual commuter train. By the time she burst through the glass doors of Center Pharmaceuticals, she was ten minutes late. She bee-lined to the security check, swiped her badge, and sprinted up the steps to the coed changing room. Most of the project team had already arrived and picked up their assignments, except Nigel Ruiz, from toxicology.

“Hi, Nigel,” Mia said, stashing her backpack in a locker. She carefully hung up her LBD and slipped on a lab coat.

“Hey, did you hear?” Nigel said, tying back his dyed fire-engine-red hair with an elastic band. “There’s a meeting at ten about Phoxy.”

“Today?” Mia said, surprised. “Why? I thought the phase one trial went well.” Phoxy was the nickname for a synthesized compound called NJ-101, 422, which blocked a specific phosphatase enzyme, virtually removing sugar from the body. Mia’s department had done most of the preclinical work. The oral pill had the potential to reverse diabetes.

“Don’t ask me,” Nigel said. “Ever since that guy bought the company things have been weird.”

Nigel was referring to Center Pharmaceuticals’ new CEO, Miles Cameron, an ex–hedge fund manager who was popular in the tabloids.

“I’ve got a bad feeling,” Nigel mumbled and disappeared down the hallway. Mia followed, her thoughts racing. Maybe the meeting was good news? She often thought of Phoxy as

her

compound. After all, she’d helped design the small molecule inhibitor.

Mia stopped in front of a door with a slide card that read Protein Technologies: Dr. Timothy Bagley. She knocked on the wooden frame.

“Come!” Bagley barked in his booming voice. The man had zero social skills and he loved being the boss.

Mia opened the door a crack.

“Hey, Tim, just popping in to get my assignment,” she said brightly.

“Finally! Where have you been?” Bagley said, sweeping a hand over his receding hairline. Behind his desk was a display shelf loaded with his prized collectible Japanese Anime figurines. Above his computer was a signed photo of Wonder Woman Gal Gadot. He’d waited in line for six hours at San Diego Comic Con to get that signature.

“Sorry. I got a late start and—”

“Mandatory meeting at ten,” Bagley interrupted. He stood up and picked her assignment clipboard off the wall, tugging his shirt down over his round belly. “I need you to do a data review on Phoxy for me.”

“No problem.”

Once upon a time Bagley had been a technician, but from what she’d heard, not a very good one. She wondered if he even remembered how to do a data review.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Now!”

In the quiet of her lab, she reviewed the sequence of steps that led to the creation of compound NJ-101, 422, making concise notes.

A blipping sound interrupted her work. It was a text from Mark.

Eyeball symbol—U 2 —Moon symbol

She stared at the series of pictures, trying to ferret out the meaning.

I you too moon? I you to night? Oh!

See you tonight.

She scrolled through his previous texts. Kissy face. Thumbs up. Eyeball. Heart. Exploding head. And his all-time favorite, the running-man emoji for “on the go, too busy to talk.” She cringed. When was the last time she’d received a text in the English language from Mark? She should feel flattered her handsome fiancé was texting, but instead she was slightly annoyed. She didn’t need Shakespeare, but the level of emojis was getting ridiculous. She tucked her phone away. She would text him back after the meeting.

Exactly forty minutes later, with her notes in good order, Mia grabbed her iPad and headed to the conference room. Inside, there was an electric atmosphere. A large HD screen glowed in the center of the room.

Stats meetings were usually a “back to the drawing board” kind of thing. Critical failures were discussed, and suggestions made about how to improve the compound. But NJ-101, 422 had passed the first trial with flying colors. And why was the video screen set up?

Bagley sat next to Dr. Anjou, the lab head for Toxicology. Mia spotted an open chair next to Nigel, walked over, and sat down.

“Any news?” she whispered.

“Nada,” Nigel said. “Everybody’s talking. But nobody’s saying anything,” he added conspiratorially.

Suddenly, Dr. Pinchot, who oversaw production for the New Jersey location, stood up. The room quieted down.

“As you all know, the phase one clinical trial stats for NJ-101, 422 have been stellar. Now, I have a surprise. Please welcome the CEO of Center Pharmaceuticals, Miles Cameron.”

The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted, like an airplane dropping down from the sky. Everyone was equally stunned. The camera above the giant screen whirred and turned, scanning the room.

Then the screen lit up. A man with a rugged face, a shaggy head of hair, and a broad smile appeared. He wore a Hawaiian shirt and was seated on a veranda somewhere in the tropics. To his right was a technician on a laptop. Behind him was a McMansion with a lagoon-sized pool. A gaggle of attractive women moved in and out of the camera frame.

“Hey there, techies,” Cameron said, leaning forward with a grin. “So, this is the team that pulled it off?”

Mia glanced quizzically at Nigel, who shrugged.

“I’m afraid no one in the room has been briefed yet, sir.”

“Well, by all means, let’s brief them.” Cameron laughed.

“Concerning NJ-101, 422—” Pinchot began.

“—You mean Phoxy?” Miles Cameron said.

“Yes, of course, Phoxy,” Pinchot said. “The participants in the clinical trial experienced an unanticipated, but welcome side effect.”

The screen lit up with before-and-after shots of the trial volunteers. Every man and woman had lost a substantial amount of weight.

There was a collective gasp from the scientists.

“On average, every subject shed one hundred pounds over six months,” Pinchot continued. “No side effects. No lapses. No cravings.”

A murmur swept across the room.

“We are looking at a gold mine,” Cameron said. “Goodbye, Jenny Craig. Sayonara Weight Watchers. Phoxy will be the diet pill of the century. You techie geniuses created a freaking miracle drug. Who came up with this thing?”

“Dr. Tim Bagley headed up the team,” Pinchot said.

“Well, stand up and take a bow, Bagley,” Miles Cameron said.

The scientists in the room began to clap half-heartedly. Bagley struggled from his seat, tugging his shirt to cover his belly.

Mia could not believe what was happening. Tim Bagley, the man who could barely find his way around a lab, was getting all the credit?

“Er, thank you,” Bagley said, looking around nervously.

“How does Phoxy work exactly?” Cameron said.

“Well, I, uh… It’s quite complicated.”

“I didn’t get rich being stupid, Doc. Try me.”

Bagley looked at Mia helplessly. He was lost.

“Well, I—um, Miss Bold, could you hand me that report?”

Mia had to admit there was something satisfying about watching Bagley squirm. Sweat trickled down his forehead and his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. She handed him the iPad. But he just stared at her notes like a condemned man.

“Well?” Cameron said.

“Er, um, it seems we designed a small molecule inhibitor,” Bagley said, nearly choking.

“Yes? How did we do that?”

Mia could not wait to hear Bagley’s answer, since every time she tried to explain project milestones, he was too busy playing Dragon Age or Minecraft on his computer to focus.

“Um, well, I would say, we bounced a lot of ideas—” He took a deep, rattling breath. “And then we, um, thought about down regulating the insulin, and—”

Mia knew that tone. Bagley was attempting to fumble his way through the situation. Cameron nodded as if Bagley was actually saying something. The last two years of overtime flashed before her eyes. Was he really going to get away with it? She just couldn’t take it anymore.

Impulsively, she stood up. Everyone turned to look at her. The room was so quiet you could hear the tiniest sound. Mia cleared her throat while Nigel sank down in his seat, sensing what was coming.

“Phoxy targets the protein tyrosine phosphatase PTP1B, specifically an enzyme,” Mia said in a clear voice.

The camera swiveled in her direction.

“—Who’s this?”

“Mia Bold, sir. I’m a lab tech on the NJ-101, 422 team.”

“Are you the one who named it Phoxy?” he said and grinned.

“That’s just a nickname, short for the type of phosphatase enzyme we inhibited,” Mia said, suddenly embarrassed. She really hadn’t expected the moniker to stick.

“Yeah? Well, I love that name. Short, to the point, and easy to remember. You’re a branding genius. This substance takes ordinary people and turns them into foxy hotties. You really moved the needle for the company.” He signaled the computer tech. “Now, put me back on with Bagley.”

The camera swiveled back to Tim Bagley, his face glistening with perspiration. He looked like he was about to faint.

“Sir?” he said, tugging at his shirt.

“You led the team. You get the prize! I’m gonna fly you to Hawaii, Doc!” Cameron said. He waved one of the girls over. “See this guy? That’s the scientist who made Phoxy! We’re throwing him a party.”

“Oooh. He’s cute, Cammy,” she cooed and leaned toward the camera, revealing a canyon of cleavage. “It’s hot here, Doc, you’ll love it.”

Tim Bagley stood frozen in the glowing light of the screen, like a mouse hypnotized by a snake.

“Excuse me, Mr. Cameron?” Mia said. “Isn’t it a little early to celebrate? The phase two trial will take years.”

“What was your name again?”

“Mia Bold.”

“You think I donated to the president’s campaign for my health? The FDA has already fast-tracked Phoxy as a

diet pill

. We’ll hit the market in five years, tops. Tell them the best part, Pinchey.”

Mr. Pinchot faced the group of scientists. “We are following the Viagra financial model for Phoxy. We estimate the market will bear twenty dollars per tablet, maybe more. In light of the estimated long-term profit, Mr. Cameron has approved a generous bonus for everyone on the team.”

“But that price is ridiculous. It’s unfair,” Mia argued. “Without proper clinical trials, insurance won’t cover that cost for diabetics. People who could be helped by the drug but can’t afford it will die.”

Miles Cameron looked directly at Mia, his patience wearing thin.

“Anyone ever tell you that you are kind of a buzzkill? Center Pharmaceuticals is going to be number one. No more discussion about diabetes, understood?”

Mia felt blood rush to her cheeks as Cameron sipped his champagne cocktail. The sensible thing to do was sit down, pick up her bonus, swallow her sense of injustice, and play nice. That’s what Mark would want her to do. But another part of her was absolutely furious.

“…And I don’t want to hear the D word ever again.”

Cameron held up his glass as if to make a toast, gave her a smug smile, and winked.

That was it. She lost her temper.

“Really, Cammy? Which D word is that?”

“Shut up, Bold!” Bagley hissed.

“I can think of a few D words to describe you, Mr. Cameron, starting with debauched and ending with just plain dumb!”

“I told you I had a bad feeling.” Nigel sighed and buried his face in his hands.

A hush fell across the room.

“What did you just say to me?” Miles Cameron said, cheeks blazing bright red.

“I said you’re dumb,” Mia said without flinching. “And by that I mean, slow-witted and unable to comprehend a simple idea, like why we designed this drug in the first place.”

Nigel lifted his head from his hands and looked at Mia with newfound respect, but also terror.

On the screen, Miles Cameron stared into the camera, fuming. Behind him, his entourage was frozen. Apparently, upsetting “Cammy” was to be avoided at all costs. The computer tech recoiled behind his laptop, as if it was a shield that could protect him.

“Gigi, go see how lunch is coming along,” Miles Cameron snapped at the girl in the bikini.

“Sure thing, Cammy…”

“How did you make it onto my medical team? You’re loud, rude, and incredibly insubordinate. Bagley? What were you thinking?”

Bagley stood up at attention, almost poking himself in the eye as he fumbled to straighten his glasses.

“Um… She’s only a minor member of the team, sir. Just a lab monkey. Totally replaceable.”

“Really, Tim?” Mia glared at Bagley. She couldn’t believe he was going to go there. She took a deep breath and tried to speak calmly. “Listen, Mr. Cameron. The fact is, I created the mechanism that makes Phoxy work. I’m a critical part of the team. They’ll need me moving forward, no matter how you market the drug.”

“Not true!” Bagley said. “Absolutely not true.”

Mia turned to Tim Bagley, who shrank from her gaze.

“Do you remember how we inhibited PTP1B, Tim?”

“I’d have to look at my notes.”

“I don’t. We used a small peptide, F2PMP.”

“Of course—”

“—And how did we increase the potency?”

“Um, I don’t recall,” Bagley said, brow beading with sweat. “A phenyl ring system?”

“Actually, it was a naphthalene ring system.”

“Okay, okay,” Miles Cameron said. “I can see you’re good at your job, Bold. You want a better position, is that what this is about? A little outburst? Get the boss’s attention? Show your worth? Fine. You’re clearly a valuable asset to Center Pharmaceuticals. What do you want?”

She didn’t know how to answer that. She’d already told him what she wanted.

“You want Bagley’s job? No problem.”

“But I’m the boss,” Bagley said, trying to convince himself of the fact.

Camron ignored him and focused on Mia.

“I can move you up in the company, fast-track you. You’ll be making two hundred K by spring. But there’s one condition. You need to get on board with Phoxy being a diet pill. Otherwise, you can clear out your locker and go home.”

Mia took a deep breath and closed her eyes to control her anger. So this was how this guy operated. When he wanted something, he just bought it or made a threat. She thought for a second. Was she willing to stand by her words? Wasn’t that what the word integrity meant?

“If you turn Phoxy into a diet pill and abandon the diabetes trials entirely,” Mia said, “I’ll be forced to quit.”

Nigel shook his head and made a shushing motion.

Miles Cameron’s toothy smile evaporated, and his eyes became two black pits of indignation.

“That’s it, I’ve had it with you, Bold!” he said, shaking his fists like a frustrated toddler as spittle flew from his lips. “I’ll save you the trouble of quitting. Everyone is replaceable. You’re fired!”