Absolute Zero

by Anlyn Hansell

  He needed to make a decision soon. He hadn’t been entirely forthcoming to Rand on his reasons for this impromptu trip to America. He was actually toying with the idea of selling off the American facility and concentrating his resources in Europe. As it stood, he was either going to pump capital into the American facility and help it flourish, or abandon it altogether and use the money to invest in the European facilities. Two American companies had already showed some interest in the property, the close proximity to Philadelphia and technical universities was a definite draw.

  Contrary to what the employees in the facility thought, or at least according to what Anne had stated, he wasn’t nearly the rotten bastard they thought he was. He did care about their livelihoods. Of course, he certainly wasn’t the same person he was when he first bought the company, though. Back then he had no idea how the decisions he made in his personal life would affect the outcome of every other facet in his life, including work.

  The memories - they were fading. Always present, yes, but not with the sharp edge they used to have. Thinking back on it, last night’s reaction was a bit extreme, but completely foreseeable. It was just a bit of a shock, or maybe because the name came from a set of lips that he was having completely inappropriate thoughts about anyway. That was probably it. That name uttered from anyone else would probably not affect him in the least. The fact that it came from Anne? Anne…

  Stop thinking about her. Look at the mass of papers on your desk and concentrate. He chided himself before doing just that.

  *****

  Sniff.

  “Oh, god…” Sniff, sniff.

  Anne sat at her desk later that morning, her eyes wandering toward the fabric covered partition between her desk and the desk next to hers.

  “Are you shitting me?” she heard gasped out between sniffs and a hitched breath.

  More sniffing, more muttering…

  “Are you OK?” Anne asked quietly before she could stop herself.

  “NOOO!” the female voice answered emphatically. It was Em’s voice. All of the other inhabitants of this particular office were in the lab at the time, leaving the two of them alone.

  Suddenly she appeared in front of Anne’s desk, her face a mottled reddish color, her eyes rimmed with moisture. She was probably the same age as Anne, average looking, not ugly, not particularly pretty but at the moment, her face was a disaster.

  “Umm. So, what’s wrong?” Anne asked, genuinely concerned. Em did make her a homemade cake, after all. She could return the kindness.

  “McClellan called a meeting to review all of our projects,” she stated before pulling out a chair and seating herself across from Anne. She swiped at her cheeks almost violently to remove the tears. “Usually the lab manager would go and present, but he’s not here and now we all have to do it.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” Anne asked tentatively.

  “Yes! Oh my god, you have NO idea what it’s like presenting anything to that man! He will ask every question you didn’t anticipate, and you will feel like an absolute ASS when you walk out of the meeting. I’ve heard the horror stories. I can’t do this! I can’t!” she practically sobbed.

  Anne sat and calmly regarded the woman in front of her. She honestly looked terrified at the prospect and it was slightly baffling. McClellan certainly didn’t seem that bad, at least from her few conversations with him. Yes, he had a prying mind but he didn’t seem outright nasty. From the words and expressions flowing freely from Em, it would appear she may have been mistaken.

  “So, do you have a presentation?”

  “No.” Sniff.

  “Ok. Do you have a format?” she asked in a placating voice. The prospect of doing anything other than memorizing the handbook, reading the company newsletter and other meaningless activities perked her up considerably.

  “There’s an attachment with the email,” she stated as she swiped another tear.

  “Great! See that’s not so bad, just fill it in, right?”

  “Wrong! You should see it. It’s five pages long! And besides, my project…” she stated before covering her face with her hands and shaking her head, “just sucks,” she revealed her face once more and stared at Anne. “I mean it. I was going along fine and then I hit a snag and now? I have no idea where to go with this and McClellan is going to chew me up and spit me out in front of everybody.”

  “What are you working on?” Anne sat straighter in her chair, her interest now fully piqued.

  “Chemo side effects? You know there’re medications out there that treat nausea and bowel problems, fatigue…but I was trying to develop a drug that could treat all of them, instead of requiring the patient to take multiple meds. I actually found that some of them seem to fight each other and make some symptoms worse while relieving others. I combined them and I created a whole other problem,” she stated before burying her face in her hands.

  “What’s the problem?” Anne asked.

  “I’ve caused some kind of disorientation. Like the brain can’t handle the combination. Now I’m back to square one,” she stated, her words muffled behind her hands.

  “Are you sure it’s the combination of the chemicals and not a side effect of the chemo itself?” Anne asked.

  “You mean like Chemo Brain?” Em asked raising her head from her hands.

  “Chemo Brain, Chemo Fog…whatever. It’s a side effect – some patients get it, some don’t. In some people it’s temporary and other people can experience it for years. I’m just wondering if you isolated your chemical combination as the source for the disorientation.”

  “I wouldn’t even know how to do that,” Em stated forlornly. “And besides, I certainly wouldn’t be able to do that by tomorrow. What am I supposed to do?”

  “I know how to do that, but to be honest? I think if you’re really trying to relieve the side effects, you should either concentrate on the brain itself or protecting the good cells that are left after chemo treatments. That’s where it all starts. You protect them from damage; you lessen the side effects – all of the side effects,” Anne stated.

  “How do you do that?” Em asked as she sat up straighter.

  “Oh, if I only knew…I’d be a rich woman right now. I don’t have an answer for you on that one. I can help you with the brain, though. Some of the side effects like fatigue, nausea and chemo fog are directly related to increased hormone levels and the brain controls that. My expertise is boosting those levels to treat aggression, but if I can boost it, I can also block it. I think I can help you,” Anne offered up a small smile.

  “You would do that? Don’t you have anything you’re working on? I mean, I don’t want to get you in trouble…”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve just spent the last two days memorizing your handbook. I have no clue what I’m supposed to be working on, at least not until your lab manager gets back, so yeah…I’d say I’ve got some time available to help you,” she stated with sarcasm.

  “First off, grab your notes and bring them over here, email me McClellan’s format, we’ll get you squared away,” she responded with confidence. “Then we’ll hit the lab and see what we’ve got. I don’t know McClellan very well, but I’m sure if you explain what you’ve done so far, what you found and what you’re planning to work on next, he won’t be able to find fault with it.”

  “Trust me, when I say he can be rotten, I’m putting it lightly. He was here like a year ago and he was a complete crotch,” she stated before a grimace appeared on her face. “Sorry, I have two teenagers; I think I’ve picked up their terminology. He was completely unpleasant,” she amended with a smile.

  Was she talking about the same guy that just bought her dinner last night? If anything, he was too friendly. It didn’t make sense.

  “I’ll go get my stuff,” she stated in a decidedly more chipper voice. “Thank you so much for this. I really appreciate it,” she added in a sincerely grateful tone. “You’re very kind…”

  I’m very bored.

  �
��No problem, Em,” she stated instead. Her eyes followed the other woman until she cleared the wall between their desks. She rested her elbows on the sparsely populated surface, cradling her chin in both palms while waiting patiently for Em to return. At least she finally had something to work on. Granted it wasn’t her own work, but anything was better than what she was doing now; which, by the way, was a whole lot of nothing.

  *****

  “Can you make copies of…what’s that?” Ian asked as he eyed the odd-colored piece of cake Rand’s assistant Andrea was eating at her desk later that afternoon.

  She looked guilty as she looked up, poised to stuff a forkful into her mouth.

  “Um…it’s ah…birthday cake?” she answered sheepishly.

  “Birthday cake? Does anyone actually get any work done in this place?” he stated his internal thought out loud before perusing the cake more closely. “It’s red.”

  “It’s red velvet cake,” she explained, the fork still poised in the air.

  “Right. Sure. Why?” he asked with the strangest expression on his face.

  “Why?”

  “Why is it red? What makes it red? That’s crazy,” he muttered as he shook his head.

  “Ah…food coloring? Beet juice? I don’t know what Em puts in it, I just know its’ good,” she replied with a nervous smile.

  “How can something that turns your teeth pink be good? They are, by the way. Your teeth are pink.”

  Her mouth clamped shut immediately as her fork descended rapidly toward the plate.

  “Don’t mind me. Keep eating, I just…don’t get it, that’s all. Whose Birthday is it?” he asked, not quite sure why, really.

  “Umm…the new girl, down in the Lab? Bennett? Anne Bennett?”

  His eyes widened slightly before he settled them back into a bland countenance. “Really? She’s been here for, what? A couple days?”

  “Everyone gets a cake, Sir. If you’re here for your birthday, you’ll get one too. There’s a list…” Hopefully you’ll be long gone before your birthday pops up, she thought.

  He was so completely befuddled by this whole conversation, or at least his cocked head and confused expression made it seem that way to her.

  “Right. I want a green one,” he stated so seriously, it caused her expression to match his previous one. “That was a joke, love. Why would I want a green cake?” he asked more to himself than her.

  “I…umm, Ok?” she tried for a smile but it came out as more of an awkward grimace.

  “So I need some copies…” he finally uttered before dropping a pile of papers on her desk. “Twelve should do it.”

  She pushed her chair back immediately, but his hand rose to stay her.

  “Go ahead and finish your cake, by all means,” he smiled but apparently it did nothing to ease the look on her face. He gave a small shake of his head before he turned toward the sound of his ringing cell phone in the office beyond. Thoughts of her popped in his brain yet again.

  Did Anne like red cake? Nah, she didn’t seem like the type of person who would even acknowledge a birthday, or enjoy technicolor cake.

  Maybe I should walk down there?

  A disembodied voice rang out over his phone speaker, drowning out the bleating cell phone on his desk.

  “Sir, your one o’clock conference call is about to start. Should I connect you?”

  His eyes flitted to the doorway and back to the phone before a frustrated sigh broke from his mouth. This call would take up his entire afternoon.

  Damn, but he would love to see Anne’s expression as everyone fussed over the birthday girl. She was probably hiding under her desk…

  Chapter Six

  “So you really don’t have anything to work on? Why did they hire you?” Beth’s voice sounded concerned and much too far away later that evening.

  “Who knows? Not that I’m complaining, mind you, they are paying me so I don’t have a problem with that. I just wish my boss would get his ass back in the office so I at least have my own project to work on,” she stated as she added the freshly chopped cilantro into a small bowl.

  “So tell me about this report, no wait, don’t tell me. It’s boring isn’t it?” she amended causing a smile to form on Anne’s face.

  “For you? Yes, extremely. However, I believe the presentation will be a success. I think I nailed it. At least Em was pleased, and it kept me occupied all afternoon. Maybe I’m a nerd, but I thoroughly enjoyed helping on it.”

  “You are a nerd, but I love you anyway. So, how was the red cake, anyway?” Beth changed the subject to something slightly more intriguing than a report.

  “Between you and me? It was delicious. Who knew? Red cake…it turned my teeth pink, though. I only ate a few bites, but I swear, if I could? I’d probably have eaten the entire thing; it was that good.”

  “Maybe you should send me the recipe? No, don’t do that,” Beth amended quickly causing both women to laugh. Beth was a notoriously bad cook. “I’d probably manage to make it purple somehow,” she added causing another small laugh to erupt from Anne before a sound jolted her. Between the sound of sizzling from her frying pan, Beth’s laughter in one ear and birds chirping beyond the screen of the open patio door, she heard something.

  A knock.

  There it was again…definitely a knock.

  “Shit.”

  “What? What is it?” Beth’s voice quickly switched from laughing to concerned.

  “There’s someone here.” Anne whispered as she slowly walked toward the corner of the kitchen and poked her head beyond to see a figure standing in front of the front door. She had both doors open to enjoy a bit of cross breeze, now she thoroughly regretted it. The setting sun illuminated the figure from behind, casting the front of the figure in shadow.

  “Who is it?” Beth whispered back.

  “Anne?” A man’s voice. Not just any man. The accent gave it away.

  “Oh dear god, what is he doing here?” Anne breathed out before pressing her body against the cabinets beyond his view.

  “Who’s he? What the hell is going on?” Beth asked in an urgent whisper.

  “My…” What was he? Her employer? Her boss’s boss ten times over? “Umm, the guy that owns the company I work for?” she finally whispered.

  “Anne? Darling, I just saw you. You can’t hide, love. Come out here,” his voice rang out through the house.

  “Wow! Was that him? He sounds like Shrek. Tell me he doesn’t look like Shrek,” Beth asked before adding, “Why is the owner of the company at your house?”

  “I have no idea,” Anne answered honestly.

  “Is he good looking?”

  “Beth! He’s…I…he owns the damn company! What am I supposed to do?” she whispered frantically.

  Another round of knocks.

  “Anne?” she heard again from the front door.

  She quickly looked down, realizing that she wasn’t appropriately attired for guests in a tank top and yoga pants. Oh! And missing one slightly necessary piece of apparel.

  “Oh my god Beth, I don’t have a bra on!” She practically hissed through the phone.

  “So what? The girls are perky. Go answer the door. Wait! Is he hot, or what?”

  She took a deep, calming breath that turned out deep but completely missed the calming part. Her pulse was practically pounding.

  “Um…he’s…” what was he? Was he hot? This was so crazy, “He’s…yes? I don’t know. I guess so?” she whispered before the distinct sound of the screen door opening caused a jolt of apprehension to race throughout her body.

  “He’s coming in. He just walked in my house! Beth!” she whispered through clenched teeth.

  “Anne? Come out here like a big lass, eh? I already saw you…” he stated calmly.

  “I’m dialing 911!” she yelled out.

  “You can’t. I’m not intruding, darling,” he stated as footsteps sounded closer.

  “What’s going on? Anne? You’re not really going to call 911, are y
ou?” Beth’s voice sounded through the phone, but she ignored her.

  “You just walked in to my house. I consider that intruding,” she stated loudly as she inched her body along the wall of cabinets, further into the kitchen.

  “Actually,” he appeared around the corner suddenly, his eyes fastening on her immediately, “I own this house. If anyone’s intruding, it’s you.”

  What?

  “What?”

  “It’s true. I built this house when I bought the company. You didn’t dial 911, did you?” His eyes shifted to the phone against her ear. He looked casual in a pair of somewhat worn jeans and a golf shirt that showed just enough of his ripped arms. For a half-crazy moment, she thought that the look suited him, right before her eyes fastened on the blaze of color in his hands.

  “What’s that?” she indicated the flowers he was holding.

  “These? These are called tulips, love. It’s your birthday,” he shrugged. “I saw them and I thought of you. They’re kind of delicate but they look like fire. Isn’t that the craziest thing?” he lifted the bundled flowers and studied them. They were absolutely beautiful and unusual with yellow bottoms changing to orange and finishing as red at the tops of the petals. “Could you put the phone down, love?”

  “What’s he saying? Did he buy you flowers? What the heck have you been doing this week, girl!?” Beth was practically shouting on her side of the phone.

  “Umm…Ok, this is just very…unusual,” she muttered as her eyes continued to follow the flowers as he set the bundle down on the counter next to him.

  “Yeah, well, you’re an unusual kind of lass. I could’ve just called, but what’s the fun in that? What’s that smell?” He looked toward the stove and the distinct sound of sizzling brought her back to reality.

  “Anne? Tell me what’s going on!” Beth’s voice again. Anne immediately turned toward the stove, hoping that the fish wasn’t burnt during this new “development”. She flipped both portions over, relieved that they were both seared perfectly before whispering, “I can’t. I better go. I’ll call you later?”