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Chapter 1
Pulling up the sleeve of my lab coat, I glance at my watch—4:02 PM. I had fifty-eight minutes until my work week was over. The lab was quiet rather than filled with the usual Friday afternoon banter that took place as it got close to quitting time.
I was pretty sure that it had to do with the new chief administrator, Chase Pearce. He arrived on Monday from the Nolan Pharmaceuticals’ Atlanta office. The former chief, Doug Bannon, had been transferred to Los Angeles. It made me sad to see him go because, for the last two years, I had risen through the ranks under his tutelage.
Now I was the early shift lab supervisor, but I deserved it. I spent plenty of late nights, and even some weekends, working on research. After putting in my time, it was my reward.
“Megan, have you met Pearcy?” my coworker, Cindy, asks.
“Who?”
“Pearcy, you know, Dr. Pearce.”
“No, he hasn’t had the decency to show his face. You would think that he would want to introduce himself to the staff instead of calling us in, one by one. I hope he doesn’t bother until Monday, though. I’m tired.”
Before his arrival, I was clued in by a colleague from Atlanta that Chase could be hard to handle. He was an arrogant taskmaster, apparently, but brilliant and passionate about medicine. I had also been told he held a medical degree from Harvard. The intercom crackles, interrupting my thoughts.
“Megan Stanford, please come to Dr. Pearce’s office.”
“Fuck, I had all of less than an hour.”
My other coworker, Edgar, gives me a sympathetic look. He had seen Dr. Pearce earlier that morning, and judging by his depressed mood; it hadn’t gone well.
“I guess I have to face the music sometime.”
I pack up the reports that I was working on and stash the folder in my top drawer. I guess I would have to compile the results on Monday. Removing my lab coat, I straighten my dress before I head to Dr. Pearce’s office.
I walk down the hall and take the elevator to the top floor. All the heads of the company resided on the top floor of the Nolan Pharmaceutical building, including each department chief.
Standing in front of his door, I take a deep breath and knock. A deep baritone greets me, telling me to enter.
Chase Pearce sat in his black leather office chair, paging through a medical book. His back was turned to me, but I could see he had thick, neatly combed, inky black hair.
“Please sit, Miss Stanford. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
I take the seat in front of his desk and arrange my dress, so it covers my legs. Despite it falling just above my knees when I stood up, it always moved up my thighs when I sat. I should have kept my lab coat on. I didn’t want to make the wrong impression on the good doctor, after all.
After several minutes go by, I begin to grow annoyed. Why call me up here in the first place if all I was going to do was sit and wait? I start fidgeting, bouncing my knee, which makes my heel clack on the floor.
Without moving, Dr. Pearce addresses me. “No need to be nervous, Miss Stanford. This is only an informal meeting. I’ll be with you in a minute.”
What am I supposed to say to that?
“Uh, thank you.”
A few more minutes pass before he finally turns around to face me. When he does, I suck in a small gasp. He was, well, gorgeous. His blue eyes, the color of the Mediterranean Sea, are framed by long, thick, black eyelashes. They alone were enough to draw me in, but his square jawline, cleft chin, and patrician nose didn’t hurt either. All at once, my belly clenches as I think about running my tongue up and down that chin of his. I must have been gaping because I hear him call my name.
“Miss Stanford?” he repeats. “Is there something wrong?”
“No, I’m sorry,” I apologize. I could feel my face starting to heat up with embarrassment.
He smirks. Was he laughing at me?
“I’ve been going over your records. You’ve moved up pretty quickly since you’ve been here. And while I respect my predecessor’s decisions, I don’t reward employees as easily with promotions. There are certain protocols I follow. Looks or charms mean nothing, so your past performance means little to me. It’s what you do from here on in that counts.”
I didn’t know if I should be angry or upset at his implying that I got my promotions due to my looks and not the work I’ve done. My tongue was tied, which he was lucky for that because I didn’t know where to start in telling him off. What a fucking jerk! Did he think I slept with Doug to get where I was? Fist clenched, I was about to reply when the intercom buzzed.
“Doctor Pearce, you have a call on line four.”
