Mr. Park Lane (The Mister)

“Thanks,” Eric replied. “We’re just going to do some basic counterintelligence work.”

Counterintelligence? “You suspect some kind of internal leak?”

Tim finally spoke up. “We’re reviewing internal practices and procedures.”

That was a non-answer. Something was off. Were they thinking about pulling the drug but didn’t want to tell us? I much preferred it when I could work hand in hand with my clients. If they kept problems and issues secret, there was less I could do to head off disaster. “We’re here to help and support you in any way we can. Please feel you can use our resources and network for anything you need.”

Eric gave one of his tight, shallow smiles.

This time it was Jean’s turn to speak. “If any of you are approached, or notice anything unusual, please call me immediately at the number on this card.” She passed a stack of cards for each member of my team to take. When they came to me, I saw the plain white rectangle didn’t provide much in the way of identifying information—just a name, a phone number, and a generic email address. Who were these people, and why were they here?

“Approached?” Caroline asked. “And what do you mean by ‘unusual’?”

“Let’s keep going through the timetable,” Jean said.

I’d spent most of my career working for luxury brands. I was well used to creatives being paranoid about competitors. I was familiar with the importance of secrecy and threats of corporate espionage. I was accustomed to sitting in a room with a stressed-out, overworked team who were doing everything they could to launch their product with a bang. But this meeting was unlike any I’d ever experienced before. It was like they were MI5 and had discovered plans for Italy to start a war.

I didn’t like to work blind. It was a sure way to look like an idiot. Eric might not be ready to tell an entire meeting room what was wrong, but perhaps he’d talk to me one-on-one. If I had all the facts, I’d be better at my job. I wanted to make sure there were no surprises.

I had a Google alert set up on all my clients, target clients, and clients’ competitors. I also had a junior assistant responsible for briefing me on whatever was in the news that might impact our accounts. Whatever was happening hadn’t yet hit the news cycle, but that didn’t mean disaster wasn’t just around the corner.

I knew one person who might be able to see into the future of Calmation. The only problem was that so far today, she’d refused every one of my calls.

Thirty-Two

Hartford

I secured my locker, pulled my backpack over my arm and headed to the hospital exit. I’d spent the last two hours of my shift catching up on paperwork, waiting for Gerry to finish his meetings. I still hadn’t managed to confess to him what I’d done.

At least by the time I got back to the residences, I could sneak past Joshua’s front door without him hearing me. I didn’t want to talk to him. Being near him made me lose sight of what was right in front of me—just like it always had. This time around, I wasn’t going to derail my whole life because of my inability to control my feelings for one Joshua Luca. Tomorrow was moving day; I could take my backpack and whatever else I’d accumulated these last three months in London and shift my postcode from W1 to WD6. Starting tomorrow morning, I’d be living nearly fourteen miles away from Joshua. He was more likely to go to Milan than make the trip from Zone 1 to Zone 6, so I’d be safe.

“Hartford, just the person I’ve been looking for.”

I turned as Gerry came up beside me. It was nearly ten, and as much as I didn’t want to see Joshua, I did hear my bed calling.

“I’m being interviewed by the BBC tomorrow and I’m thinking I might bring up this Merdon thing. There are rumors floating about Calmation being filed with the regulator tomorrow, so I can probably get away with commenting on what I’ve heard through the grapevine—no risk to my source. You mind taking a look at my notes?”

If anything was going to keep the adrenaline flowing, it was the fight against Merdon. “Absolutely, and actually I have something to tell you about that.” I followed Gerry into his office.

“I’ve been researching how to file a complaint to the health regulator,” I said.

Gerry sighed. “We need to do this in an organized way. We need lawyers to advise us and prepare a complaint.”

“Sounds expensive.”

“It will be,” he replied. “But it’s a generation of children who are going to become zombies if we don’t do something about Calmation. Every two-year-old having a tantrum is going to be given this stuff.”

It didn’t bear thinking about. “Do you think they’ll actually get it through?”