The Fair & Foul (Project Gene Assist Book 1)

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The Fair & Foul (Project Gene Assist Book 1) Page 14

by Potts, Allie


  The timing of his ‘attack’ would have put it around the time when Juliane first severed the bond. While she was here trying to fill the void with her work and feeling miserable, Louis was off getting played by wannabe Florence Nightingale.

  Juliane felt a coldness settle into her heart. “Idiot." Juliane wasn't sure if she was referring to Louis or herself. "He should have called me. I could have explained everything.”

  “Could you?” Alan asked. “Because I would like to know what the hell has been going on with you lately. If you didn’t already know about the rumors, then what is your excuse for the last few weeks? And what really happened today with the generator?”

  Juliane ground her teeth together before answering. “The generator surged and the hydrogen ignited. You just finished telling me that.”

  Alan closed the remaining distance to the desk and leaned on it. “You and I both know you don’t make mistakes. Something or someone sent a command to the generator. It wasn’t Betty, and even I didn’t know it was capable of doing anything like that.” Alan leaned over further. Juliane could see her stunned face reflected back in the safety glasses he still wore. “I believe it is your turn to do some explaining.”

  Twenty

  Juliane bowed her head. “I didn't know. I swear. I didn’t mean for anything like that to happen. I overheard him tell her that I was nothing. I was so angry, but it couldn't possibly . . . I never would . . ." Juliane chewed her lip as she played the scene back in her memory. Louis's words. Elena's smug smile. Her shoulders slumped. "I haven't been myself ever since I disabled the private network.”

  "What private network?"

  "The one I established with Louis. I thought we would be able to have a deeper connection, only it never worked right. I broke it off thinking we could just fix it later, but I think I did even more damage and now, now . . ."

  Alan stepped around the desk and put his hand on her shoulder. Juliane decided to ignore that it was Alan offering comfort. She was tired of fighting. There was no point. She was never strong enough. Never good enough. Nothing had gone according to plan. Juliane admitted to herself that at that moment she needed someone. Anyone. Even Alan. Juliane leaned into the gesture, whispering, “I don’t know what's happening to me.”

  “You are evolving. We are evolving.” Juliane looked up from her seat. The way Alan stood above her allowed for the glow from the overhead lights to reflect back on the surface of his eyes, giving them a near fiery appearance. He was confidence manifested.

  Juliane pulled away as if burned. Alan was too confident. He might not have had his heart torn inside out, but his career was equally effected by the accident. “Tell me you saw this coming and that everything is going according to your grand plan.”

  Alan snorted. “Juliane, after all this time we’ve been together, how can you even doubt it? Everything is going according to my grand plan. Everything.”

  “But what about our project? What should we do?”

  “I think it may be time to introduce you to my other benefactor.” Alan smiled, but it was a wolf’s grin.

  Alan arranged for all their transportation to his mysterious benefactor. He hadn’t elaborated other than to say that the office was a mere ninety minutes away from campus, in Worcester. When the car arrived, Alan opened the door for her as he held a quick exchange with the driver. Juliane was deaf to whatever passed between the two of them.

  As they left the campus, Juliane turned off her newsfeed filters. Gossip news be damned, she thought. Immediately, she was bombarded with articles featuring Louis. Pictures leaked from the private ceremony adorned several magazine covers, and interviews by the friends of the new Mrs. Evans filled the feed.

  Other, more insidious rumors began to weave their way into the conversation. Juliane saw her name appear in the feed summaries. She clicked on a few links. The articles speculated that she had only been a paid cover to divert the media’s attention from the real relationship. They dissected every detail about Louis and her relationship, looking for the telltale sign that things hadn't been what they had seemed. What did their body language say? Where was she during high profile events? Where was Elena during the same time? The reporters even attempted to estimate how much she might have made in such an arrangement.

  Unfortunately, once her filter program was turned off, it was incredibly difficult to turn back on, especially now that her name was involved. As all media continued to stream directly to her brain, there was little she could do to escape its onslaught as the car sped toward their destination.

  The car pulled up in front of one of the several towers in the heart of the city. It had been constructed out of sandstone and glass. It was easily the tallest building in the area. A mountainous pillar of beige and blue scraping the sky. And yet it almost appeared natural, as if it had been carved directly out of solid rock by the elements rather than manmade. The top of the tower consisted of only a moderate slope and lacked many of the more gaudy finishing touches so prevalent on the tallest buildings found in other locations. At least Juliane thought it did. It was difficult to tell for sure from the base of the building.

  The interior was elegant, yet minimal. Juliane’s heels clicked on the floor as she and Alan crossed the cavernous lobby toward the elevator doors. A guard looked up as they passed but appeared to recognize Alan and allowed them to continue unchallenged.

  Alan walked past the first three elevator doors before stopping in front of a fourth, set slightly out of sight. He held his thumb on the call button for an unusual length of time. Alan noticed her look of curiosity; he leaned over and whispered, “Biometric security.”

  Within minutes, the elevator doors opened, and they ascended in a silence made even more notable by the lack of easy listening music or sound of whirling gears or turning belts.

  The lobby at their only stop mirrored the one below, with a few small differences. High-end pieces of artwork hung on the walls, although none of them were by any artist Juliane recognized. Juliane judged that they were most likely originals rather than reproductions.

  The woman at the front desk smiled as they approached. “Alan, how nice to see you. I hear that congratulations are in order.”

  Juliane shot Alan a quick glance. “I thought we were supposed to keep our research under wraps.”

  The woman tilted her head in Juliane’s direction. “Ah, you must be Dr. Faris. Rest assured, he’s never shared any of what you do over in Meriden with me. I was congratulating him on his engagement, of course.”

  “Engagement? You and Betty are engaged?” Juliane couldn't prevent the depth of her disbelief from entering her tone.

  "Jealous?" Alan asked with a smile.

  "No. I am just surprised, that's all. When did this happen?"

  “Oh, a few days before your . . . recent personal days. It isn't relevant to our work, so we didn’t think it worth mentioning." Alan paused as if considering to deliver his next words. Juliane readied herself for a biting retort.

  "Betty also seemed to think you wouldn’t react to the news well under the . . . ah . . . circumstances," Alan murmured.

  Juliane felt a blush begin to bloom on her cheeks and fought it back with icy determination.

  "I suspect now she was right.”

  The woman at the front desk continued to stare at Juliane. Her eyes momentarily widened, and Juliane knew she had made the connection between her name and the various news stories. Then, Juliane saw it. The softening of the woman’s face. Pity. Pity from this stranger. Another blast of ice water hit her veins. She had made a mistake letting her guard down with Alan back at the office. She would not show weakness again.

  “Well, let me also extend my congratulations to you both.” Turning back, Juliane arched her back and held her head straight. She looked down at the woman without lowering her chin. “Now I don’t believe we came all this way to exchange gossip and pleasantries. I believe we have an appointment?”

  The woman
blushed. “Yes, of course, right this way. Mr. Knightley is expecting you. Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?” She scurried around the desk and toward a large pair of double doors.

  “Juliane, was that tone necessary? She was just trying to be friendly.”

  “I didn’t come all this way to make new friends.”

  “That may be, but that’s a quick way to make enemies, and you don’t want to be on Sarah’s bad side. Besides, Damien has been a good friend to me for some time. He’s been quite eager to finally meet you.”

  The room behind the double doors continued with the minimalist theme with the exception of a large water feature which took up a portion of one wall. The water trickled down a series of slate stones and emptied into a narrow pool at its base. Scattered around the base and throughout the pool were a series of flames. Juliane couldn’t tell if the flames were gas-powered or merely simulated. In either case, the effect was captivating.

  Juliane didn’t realize how mesmerized she was until a voice spoke up from the center of the room. “I see you appreciate my serenity wall.”

  She broke her gaze from the fountain as she realized that she recognized the voice’s owner.

  It was the same man she had noticed in the corner of the Vegas auditorium. The same man who she spotted later near Alan's platform. She vaguely remembered that Louis had appeared to recognize him, but did not seem particularly happy to see him.

  The man Juliane presumed was Damien Knightley walked over to the serenity wall where Juliane stood. Just like in Vegas, he wore a finely tailored suit and not a hair was out of place.

  “It is very peaceful,” Juliane said.

  “It only looks that way from a distance. If you were smaller and positioned on one of those rocks, I am sure the view would be quite terrifying. Everything comes down to a perspective, don’t you think?”

  Juliane raised her eyebrows in quick salute of his observation.

  “I must say I have looked forward to meeting you for quite some time," Damien Knightley continued. “I can't say most people would describe me as a patient man, but he kept telling me that you weren’t ready yet. I was beginning to worry that Alan here intended to keep you to himself until the end of time.”

  Juliane risked a quick glance at Alan, whose teeth shone brightly in the room’s lighting.

  “I’m sorry, ready for what? Alan’s not told me anything about why we are here,” Juliane said. Her hand tightened into a fist on its own accord. More secrets.

  “Really, Alan? You know, one of these days, your little flare for the dramatic is going to backfire on you.” Damien attempted to scowl at Alan, but his eyes didn’t quite commit to the gesture.

  “It’s your program. I thought you might prefer to tell her all about it yourself.”

  The man clicked his tongue, then paused. “I suppose you are right. Now let us start over. I may have heard about you, but obviously, Alan was not polite enough to reciprocate the favor. My name, as you probably have already guessed, is Damien Knightley." He paused as if he was expecting Juliane to recognize it. She didn't. He shrugged after a second and continued, "I happen to head up a fairly discreet group made up of individuals who believe that there needs to be an alternative to the ACI. A group not afraid to take bold initiatives for the greater good, rather than just for profit.”

  Juliane relaxed, unclenching her fist. She looked again at Alan as another thought took her. "You've been working for the competition. All this time? What does that make you, a corporate spy?"

  "Labels," Alan snorted. “I saw an opportunity and I took it."

  "But what about your contract? Couldn't you get into serious trouble for violating your non-disclosure agreement?" Juliane asked, alarmed.

  "What non-disclosure agreement? I certainly have never signed anything of the sort. At least, not anything legally binding." He smirked.

  Juliane's gaze darted about the room. She took a step back.

  "Oh come on, Juliane," Alan sighed. "We both know that you’ve been willing to bend a rule or two when it helped you get ahead.”

  “Bending the rules is one thing. You’ve been doing much worse.”

  “You’ve been as much a part of this as I’ve been,” Alan countered, taking a step toward her.

  “I most certainly have not.” Juliane drew her head up, refusing to be intimidated.

  “Think about all those projects we’ve worked together on. The ones that needed quick funding. You never once wondered where the extra money came from?”

  “I just thought you knew ways to fast-track approval.”

  Alan grinned. “And I did.” He swung his arms out, emphasizing the lavish room. “I do.”

  Juliane turned her attention to Damien. “I don’t understand. Isn’t the ACI the competition? Why would you be writing checks for its projects?”

  Damien shrugged. “Business is rarely black and white. I invest when and where I see potential.”

  “So why did you bring me here? Alan might think he can get around his contract with the ACI, but I have no interest in participating in corporate espionage.”

  Damien’s eyes softened. “No. Unfortunately, you would have little value to my organization in that capacity. Especially not after recent events.”

  Juliane felt her shoulders slump. Damien was right. The explosion in the lab would ensure she would never be granted access to sensitive projects ever again. If she was Louis’s wife and had been on the receiving end of that explosion, she would have made sure of that. “Then why?” she whispered.

  “I told you, I invest when and wherever I see potential. You are that potential. I want to invest in you,” Damien said.

  Juliane blinked as she tried to make sense of Damien’s words.

  He laughed. “For being made up of a number of geniuses, the ACI has still not learned how to fully capitalize on its assets. If you don’t mind me saying so, you are the complete package: ambition, brains, and beauty. So often we only encounter people with one or two of those traits.”

  Damien began to stroll around the perimeter of the room. “Sign with me and you would get to pursue whatever you fancy, as long as it makes business sense.” Damien’s voice softened into the quiet tone of a concerned parent. “My group may not be as large as the ACI, but we are comprised of the very best in their fields, the most promising individuals of our time. I allow those who sign with me the freedom to pursue their interests as they see fit, provided we all work together toward the group's benefit."

  Damien stopped behind his desk. “By accepting my offer, you would, however, need to sever any remaining ties to the ACI.” He paused to scan her face for a reaction. “But am I wrong in thinking that this might not be a large request?”

  “I didn’t know what to expect when Alan invited me out here, and I don’t know anything about you or your firm.” Reaching the pinnacle of respect and success within the ACI had been her goal for so long, it was difficult to consider anything else. If she stayed with the ACI, she would likely have to grovel before Louis. The thought was unbearable. Starting anywhere new, especially if the lab accident came to light, would mean clawing her way back up from the bottom. Although Juliane was uneasy with the arrangement Alan had with Damien, Damien was at least offering her a chance to start at the top.

  Damien smiled. “Of course. It just so happens your timing today is excellent. I have a meeting scheduled in just an hour with several of my other key players in the organization. Why don’t you and Alan go and enjoy a cup of coffee and then join us in the large conference room on the sixteenth floor?"

  “How much does the rest of the group know about me?” Juliane caught herself asking. She didn’t know if she would be able to stand more looks of pity.

  “Oh, they are aware of most the work produced within their fields but are not always as tied into the history of specific individuals. As a group, we tend to be too busy to pay attention to gossip. Alan has only discussed you in detail with me.
But I haven’t felt the need to pass your information along to the rest of the group. Besides”—Damien directed a pointed glance at Alan—“I wasn’t sure if Alan was ever going to arrange a meeting.”

  “If I do agree to join your team, I would like to have a fresh start. Would you be able to offer that?”

  “I can understand the desire to rebuild your reputation in private considering your present, err . . . celebrity,” Damien said the word as if it was a delicate piece of china. “As I mentioned, we pride ourselves on our discretion here. If you would like me to introduce you under a different name or gloss over your most recent background, I would be happy to do so, although I can’t promise that they won’t eventually make the connection. Would that suffice?”

  Juliane considered his offer. Shaking her head, she said, "No, I don't think that will fool anyone. They might not recognize me right away, but someone would be bound to connect me with the woman on the news."

  "What if they didn't see you in the flesh regularly? Would that satisfy you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Several of our group prefer to maintain their primary offices elsewhere. I would be more than happy to grant you the same privilege. Thanks to that upgrade of yours, you might not even have to physically step through these doors again after today. Would that offer you enough of a fresh start?"

  Juliane chewed her lip. Damien's suggestion would give her more freedom than she previously had with the ACI. She could make her avatar look however she wanted. She could blur its features or change its look, and none would be the wiser provided she limited her face-to-face visits. Then, even if someone did make the connection to her name, they might think it was just some unlucky coincidence. His idea could work.

  Damien glanced down at his watch. "I don't want you to feel as if I am rushing you into a decision, but I do need to make a call. Why don't you think on my offer over the next hour?"

 

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