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When the FDA notified us that our project manager was being transferred to California, they apologized for assigning us a new one so late in the process. With just three months to go in a nearly year-long application approval, we can’t afford lengthy delays.
This meeting was set up for us to be introduced to the new project manager, the person one step down from the DNPD chief who would be making the final decision on our drug. Essentially, she is the most important person in Enzo’s and my life at the moment.
Lauren Conrad.
No, not Lauren.
Ada Flemming. The same person I’d just hit on like the hungover fool that I am.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Tanner,” she says, her grip strong and her message clear.
She is pretty much anything but, and I am officially and completely screwed.
4
Hayden
“Please tell me you didn’t hit on our new regulatory project manager.”
Enzo and I are standing off to the side, apparently waiting for everyone else to filter back into the room. Or maybe he just wants to stand close enough that he can lay into me before everyone else returns to the room.
“Hayden?” he whispers furiously.
I’m watching the door for Lauren—or Ada, who was waylaid by the receptionist as we entered.
“You said not to tell you, so . . .”
I trail off just as she comes into the room.
“Jesus Christ.”
“I didn’t know who she was,” I counter.
“If you were here at nine, you would have.”
Fair point. Everyone is making their way back to the table—about ten people from the FDA, plus Enzo and me.
“I’m sorry about that. Long story.”
As we move to sit, Enzo says something to the effect of, “I can’t wait to hear it,” and then gestures to the empty seat beside him.
Avoiding Ada’s gaze—I’m not a total idiot—I make myself comfortable and wait for the hammer to drop. It doesn’t take long.
“Now that we’re all here,” she says, not hiding her annoyance, “shall we get started?”
My turn, I suppose.
“I apologize for my tardiness,” I say, offering no excuse because I don’t really have one. Instead, I listen as introductions are made, for the second time I assume, and I’m filled in on what I missed earlier.
If I thought our project manager smoking hot before, the way she takes charge of the meeting does nothing to waylay my fascination with this woman. She’s obviously respected by the others too. The room, made up of scientists, doctors and statisticians, listens intently to her recap of the process so far.
“As you know, it’s not an ideal situation to have a new project manager fill in this late in the process, but with my colleague’s transfer, it was unavoidable. Let’s talk about where we are so far, and maybe Karlene can tell us about the monograph?”
Instead of shifting my focus onto Karlene, another team member I haven’t met, I find myself drawn back to her.
The woman in charge.
The one with an amazing backside who smells like a cross-country road trip with the windows down and commands the room as easily as my father. How did she rise through the ranks so quickly? Our last project manager was probably double her age.
