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Across from all three, as if I’m on trial, I wait for the two women to get settled, and attempt not to stare at Ada.
I catch Qasim’s eye, and he winks.
Cheeky bastard. I do my best not to smile like a fool and instead focus on the woman with my fate in her hands.
“Doctor Flemming has explained the reason for this meeting?”
I nod. “Yes. We spoke yesterday,” which was true, although we talked plenty over the weekend as well, “and she told me about the possibility of a Phase IV study.”
Two men from toxicology join us, and after another round of introductions, Doctor Davis basically explains what Ada already told me.
“We will make every effort to avoid further delay,” she says, “and we should have a clearer idea of what the timeline will be like moving forward.” She turns to Qasim. “Do you have those numbers we discussed?”
He slides a stack of papers toward her. And then slides a single sheet of paper toward Ada, who pulls it to her chest, looks at it, and then glances back up at me.
“You have a copy of the numbers already?” her boss asks her.
“I do,” she says. “And I went through them twice this weekend.”
Would she have been scouring through data on a weekend home with her family if it weren’t for me? Probably. Ada loves her job.
And I love her.
The rest of the meeting carries on, but I struggle to concentrate. I keep thinking about this weekend. Telling Ada how I feel. Seeing her reaction. Does she feel the same way? What will it mean for us moving forward?
Are we moving quickly?
Yes.
Too quickly?
No.
I don’t need another week or month or year to know this is it. Last call. Ada Flemming is the only woman I want. When I see her boss looking between us, I glance away.
Don’t mess this up, Hayden.
“I know you’re busy preparing for market,” Doctor Davis says, standing, “so I appreciate you coming in today.” She turns to Ada. “We’ll talk tomorrow morning. I’m going to be out of the office for the rest of the day.”
Ada nods and says to the others, “I’ll walk him out. Do you guys need me for anything else?”
The two latecomers shake their heads and filter out of the room, but Qasim isn’t letting her off so easy.
“Actually, I do have a few questions about the report,” he says, and it’s obvious—to me, anyway—he’s about to burst out laughing. “Lunch?”
Ada looks like she’d rather punch him than share a meal. But she’s good at keeping her cool, and she just says, “Sure. My turn to buy. The usual?”
He grins like a bartender who was just handed a hundred-dollar tip.
“Sure thing. Noon.”
I follow her, presumably to her office.
“Well, hello there.”
Stopped by Karlene, I nearly run into Ada’s backside. Which would be kind of nice, to be honest. Unless, of course, groping is frowned upon in the hallowed halls of the FDA. I want to touch her so badly it’s physically painful.
“How did it go?” Karlene asks, seemingly of both of us.
