by Holly Rayner
Maddy smiled and turned to see one of her research team members, Yousef. He grinned at her, steaming paper cup in hand.
Maddy raised an eyebrow. “You drink way too much coffee, Yousef, I swear. How are you not a constant jittery mess?”
“My blood is probably 43% coffee. Gotta get my fix!”
“You, my friend, are addicted.”
Yousef put up his hands, not wanting to have the same joking argument they’d had far too many times to count. “Yeah, yeah, fine, but if you ask me, you’re inhuman. You wake up crazy early in a good mood without the aid of caffeine—I’m starting to worry you’re a vampire!”
“I believe there are some chromosomal lab results you were going to get me this morning. Where are those again?”
“They’re coming to you as soon as my drug kicks in.”
“It’s never too late to admit you have a problem!” Maddy called as Yousef huffed out of the room to get the results she needed.
Maddy prided herself on being a cool and effective leader. Her staff was mostly comprised of men, and she had worked hard to prove herself as a competent manager. Once she had gained their trust, she had succeeded in creating a dynamic team that enjoyed what they did every day while producing quality work. She truly loved her job.
The afternoon was spent finalizing her presentation to the board. She had gone over it a hundred times already, and had it completely memorized, but she still didn’t feel quite ready to stand before that room and present her case. If she got her drug approved, it would be an opportunity to change the world in the best possible way.
In her mind, there was nothing worse than knowing one couldn’t have a child.
Maddy read through her notes again, trying not to think about the handsome CEO she would be presenting to. It wasn’t his looks at made her nervous—at least, not mostly. He had a reputation for being cold and hard-headed when it came to business. In the past, Maddy had actually seen grown men leave his board room crying.
She did not want to be one of those people.
The afternoon passed by so quickly that Maddy hardly realized that it was nearly time to set up the presentation. She quickly saved her last edits and pulled the flash drive from her laptop before heading toward the lab exit. Her team called out to her as she went.
“Go get ‘em, Maddy!”
“You’ve got this!”
“Get us some test subjects while you’re there!”
Maddy rolled her eyes at the last one. “Sure, I’ll try that,” she said, her tone dry.
She loved her team. They had been with her every step of the way, from beta trials to getting their drug ready for human testing. It was finally ready, and it had been years in the making. Her whole team had given everything to this product, and she couldn’t wait to go and talk it up to the big wigs.
Striding down the hallway, Maddy tried to look more confident than she felt. She was, after all, a scientist. Generally, most of her kind liked to be left alone to work in peace, and giving presentations wasn’t a strong suit of many in her field. She would simply have to do her best.
When she reached the boardroom, she took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders before opening the door and stepping in.
The room was completely empty, except for one person.
Sheikh Akim Al-Farzi sat at the head of a very long, very empty table, and his chocolate brown eyes were boring right into her.
Maddy cleared her throat, approaching him slowly. “Hello, sir. I thought this presentation was meant to be for the entire board.”
Akim’s stare was intense as he took her in, assessing her, evaluating her. Maddy didn’t feel like it was a sexual thing, but rather a boss sizing up an employee. He was nearly impossible to read, and Maddy couldn’t stand it.
It was obvious how the Sheikh had gotten to the position he was in. He radiated power and charisma, but Maddy refused to back down. As the sole woman in a male profession, it was a learned skill that she had perfected over time. She was a match for him, no matter his status, and she would keep her head held high.
“I will be watching for all of us. Do you need any assistance setting up?”
Maddy tried to picture her boss, the Sheikh, bending down, hands and knees on the floor as he worked to plug in pieces of equipment. It took all she had not to laugh out loud at the thought. Akim clearly did not perform menial tasks, no matter how polite it was of him to offer.
She shook her head. “I’ve presented in here before; I think I can manage.”
“Good,” he said, pulling out his phone and tapping away while she set her presentation up on the main screen.
It was tense with the two of them alone in the room. Maddy waited as Akim continued to type on his phone, somewhat aggressively, it appeared, before he looked up and realized she was waiting for him to stop so she could begin. He set his phone down and sat back in his chair, eyeing the slide projected on the screen.
“Chlomerol. The future of fertility treatments. Imagine, if you will—”
“Do you need a glass of water?”
Maddy squinted her eyes at the Sheikh in the reflecting light of her presentation. “What?”
“You were clearing your throat. Would you like a glass of water, before you begin?”
She stared at him for a moment. Was he being overly polite, or overly rude? It was impossible to tell. Maddy pushed on, not willing to let her team down.
“I’m fine, thank you. May I proceed?”
The Sheikh waved a hand, as though granting her permission. “By all means. Apologies.”
Did the CEO just apologize to her?
Maddy looked back at her first slide. She had to keep going. Years of research and the work of her peers depended on her in that moment.
“Thank you. As I was saying, Chlomerol is a groundbreaking new drug which has the potential to increase fertility in women who may otherwise not be able to conceive, and we believe that we are now ready to move onto human trials.”
Maddy flipped from slide to slide as she detailed the research her team had performed, going over the successes and failures, and emphasizing their confidence that they were ready to begin human trials.
“When you think of the opportunity we could provide to thousands, possibly millions of couples who are unable to conceive, the possibilities of this treatment are endless.”
Maddy stared into Akim’s eyes as he took in her presentation. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it was maddening. She wished he would engage with her in some way—a smile, a nod of encouragement—anything. There was an awkward pause as she waited for him to respond.
He sighed. “Madeline?”
Maddy frowned. “Yes?”
“I’m going to have to stop you there. The truth is, there is no way we’re going to be able to let you move forward with human trials.”
Maddy’s frown deepened. In one sentence, the Sheikh was able to wipe away years of blood, sweat and tears. Her team had put everything they had into developing this treatment, and he was going to dismiss it already?
“You haven’t even heard the whole presentation yet,” she said, desperately trying to keep her tone calm.
“I know, but I don’t want you to waste any more of your time.”
Maddy felt as though she’d been punched in the stomach. He didn’t want to waste any more of her time? What about the past five years of her life? What about that time?
“May I ask why you aren’t willing to hear the rest of the data?” Her words ground out through clenched teeth, and Maddy hoped she didn’t sound as enraged as she felt. She was teetering between anger and despair, like she was going through the grieving process already, though there was nothing yet to grieve. There had to be a reason for this, and once she figured it out, she could refute it and get their research back on track.
“How familiar are you with the political situation in this country, Madeline?”
Maddy blinked. What did politics have to do with this product?
&
nbsp; “Well,” she started, “Elbazzar has a two-party democratic system that generally follows the same ideals of most countries—one side is conservative and one is liberal. The two don’t often see eye to eye, but the wealth of the country seems to balance that out, somewhat,” she replied, trying her best to keep her voice even.
Akim’s grin was rueful, and the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s a little more complicated than that. So much so, in fact, that the current government has put us at a standstill, and the Chlomerol study is going to have to be shelved until that can be remedied.”
Maddy absorbed that bit of information. She remembered thinking about how others had run from this room in tears, how she had promised herself she wouldn’t be one of those people. She clung to her composure even as it hung by a thin thread; she owed it to her team to hold it together, to fight as hard as she could.
“How long will that be, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Akim shrugged. “Indefinitely, I’m afraid. Look, I’m sure Chlomerol is a great drug, and I know it would do a lot of good, but we just can’t do human trials right now. I’m sorry.”
Maddy stared at him in disbelief. Everything she had worked for, everything her team had worked for, was dismissed with the wave of a hand, all because of some cryptic governmental roadblock.
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. There was clearly no way her boss would be backing down on the issue; the Sheikh’s arms were now crossed, and, absurdly given the circumstances, she noticed how muscular they looked beneath his tailored, button-down shirt.
That was the last thing she should be thinking of. Maybe her mind was trying to distract her from the horrible reality that everything she had worked for was about to go absolutely nowhere. She stared back at her presentation. She had spent so much time perfecting it, making it flow in just the right way.
All of it was for nothing.
Maddy jumped when she felt a hand on her arm, and turned to see Akim standing in front of her. She glanced down at his hand, realizing that he had been trying to comfort her. His eyes were searching as he gazed down into hers. Had he always been that tall?
“Look, it’s been a long day. I know you’re disappointed. I am, too. At the very least, can I offer you a ride home?”
Maddy stared up at him. In one fell swoop he had just crushed her dreams, and now he was offering her a ride home, like that would make up for anything?
Still, she was mentally drained from the blow of such a letdown, and in no position to argue.
“Sure, why not?” she said.
Akim gestured toward the door, and Maddy pulled her flash drive from the computer before joining him at his side.
She slid the device into her pocket after looking at it sadly. “Can’t have anyone stealing our research. Even if…”
What she didn’t say was, “Even if it’s died at the doorstep and won’t be going anywhere anyway.”
Akim frowned at her unspoken sentence before guiding her toward the elevator. Maddy was grateful that she had her purse with her; there was no way she could face her team looking so crestfallen. They would guess the truth in a heartbeat, and then they would all have to feel as she felt in that moment.
Maddy didn’t wish that on anyone.
The elevator dinged as they reached a basement floor, and Maddy followed Akim as he led her towards a bright green sports car. At another time, she might have been impressed.
Akim opened the car door for her before heading to the driver’s side. When he sat next to her, he gave her a small grin. “Come on now. Let’s get you home. The sooner you get there, the sooner you can start moving on.”
Maddy stared out the window as he drove away. It was so easy for him to dismiss everything that was upsetting her in that moment.
As if he knew anything about loss.
THREE
Maddy stared dejectedly out the car window at the endless desert surrounding the capital. The Akhemical laboratories were located a fair distance from the city, but not so far as to encourage Maddy to purchase a car to commute there every day. She hated driving, and with gas as cheap as bubblegum, she was able to get a ride to and from work without trouble. Being in the city the rest of the time eliminated any need for a car whatsoever.
She was glad she wasn’t driving now. She had trained herself not to cry in front of others, and at the moment she was intensely thankful for that particular skill. Her eyes were still glassed over as she watched wind toying with trails of sand along the highway. For a moment, she envied the wind—able to do whatever it pleased, lift whatever it wanted wherever it wanted to go. She scolded herself for being so whimsical—wind was simply an element, and to humanize it wasn’t befitting of a scientist.
“So, how long have you been in Elbazzar?” Akim asked, after clearing his throat in the deafening silence permeating the car.
Maddy pulled herself away from the window to face the Sheikh. His profile was perfectly angular, chiseled. She was about to answer his question when a fierce gust of wind caught their attention, causing both of them to stare through the windshield at the scene in front of the car.
A sandstorm had blown in, perhaps a couple miles ahead of them, blocking the city entirely from view. It wasn’t something Maddy was unused to—when sandstorms hit, she usually just ran into the nearest coffee shop and bought a drink until it blew over. She believed that coffee shops in Elbazzar secretly wished for such occurrences, to increase their sales.
Every car on the highway came to an instant stop. Fortunately for them, they were right at an exit, and Akim pulled off the road. The outskirts of the city weren’t particularly impoverished, nor were they particularly glamorous. Maddy had gotten used to a certain lifestyle, living in the nicer part of the city, and her eyes widened slightly as she looked at the small, sand-colored buildings they drove by. One with flashing neon lights drew her attention. It was a bar.
“Well, we might as well have a drink while we wait out the storm, don’t you think?” Akim asked.
Maddy nodded, resigned. Of course, on the one day she really wanted to get home to cry out her sorrows, she was stranded in a rundown bar with a billionaire, who also happened to be her boss, and who also happened to be incredibly attractive.
Akim parked the car, which seemed wildly out of place among the smaller, more economical vehicles surrounding it. Maddy wondered if he cared how out of place they looked, but when she glanced over at him, he appeared to be the image of confidence itself as he strode into the dive bar, holding the door for her to walk through.
When she entered, Maddy was hit with the thick smell of hookah, and all she could see was smoke and a sticky, liquor-smattered floor. The place was certainly a hole in the wall, and she couldn’t help but notice every pair of eyes land on her the second she stepped over the threshold. Then she saw those eyes widen as Akim strolled in, nonchalant as ever, and headed toward a table near the bar. Following suit, Maddy joined him and took a seat.
A faded, laminated menu lay on the wobbly wooden table, and Akim slid it toward Maddy. “What’s your pleasure?”
The server was quick to arrive; to Maddy’s embarrassment, he bowed deeply to her and Akim. “What can I get for you this evening, sir; miss?”
Glancing up at the server, she made a quick decision. “Whiskey. On the rocks, please.”
Akim lifted one perfect eyebrow in surprise before asking for a beer for himself. The little man bowed again, his beard reaching the third button of his wrinkled white shirt before he scurried off to fetch their order.
“You don’t strike me as a whiskey drinker,” Akim observed.
Maddy crossed her arms. “What do I strike you as?”
Akim stared at her for what seemed like forever, until Maddy began to squirm uncomfortably in her hard, wooden chair.
“You feel prejudged a lot. I can tell from the defensive posture you took at my question. People think one thing about you because of the way you look, but of course I know differently. I wouldn’t ha
ve you as my head of research if you weren’t smart as a whip, Maddy.”
It was the first time he’d used her nickname. Did he know her team called her that, or did he just feel like they were getting comfortable with one another? It was impossible to tell. As much as he seemed able to figure her out, his expression was still entirely neutral. Annoyingly so, in fact.
“What do you know about being prejudged? You live in the country of your birth, with the world at your fingertips.”
Akim frowned. “I think there might be more to me than you have read in the gossip columns of the papers, Madeline.”
Ah, back to Madeline, then.
“I don’t read gossip columns. I’ve been too busy creating a drug that can give people the families they long for, though I suppose now with all the free time I’ll have, I can read up on you and your social life.”