Twenty-Four
7 Years Ago
Logan
I flip through the secure notes from the investor meeting while standing in the lab. I had to do some finagling to even get my hands on these but there are still some people in the company who know how closely I work with Dr. Laurel and respect me.
Ha. That’s a joke if I ever heard one, but I’ll take what I can get while I can get it. I haven’t talked to the great Professor in weeks and I barely even caught a glimpse of him at the funeral. I was far more concerned with Daphne, whom the great Dr. Laurel barely took note of. His own daughter.
I used to think he was a great man doing great things.
Now I think he’s just…lost. And he never treated his daughter right. But if he’s not careful, his company is going to get stolen out from underneath him by his board, headed by that blond bastard, Adam Archer.
I flip to a third page and my eyes scan the first few lines. “What the fuck?”
I slap the papers down, disbelieving, before lifting them back up and continuing to read. “That son of a bitch.” I knew Adam was a slimy opportunist, but I didn’t realize he was this slimy.
Footsteps have me looking up, and there he is, the son of a bitch in question.
He’s got a shiny apple in hand and he takes a big, obnoxious bite. “Miss me?” he asks through his mouthful of apple.
I point at him. “I see you. I see what you’re trying to do to this company.”
“What?” He throws his hands in the air. “Make it profitable? Bring out the firing squad for such a horrible offense.”
Jackass. “I know what you did. I know you took credit for all my innovations in the lab. Anyone with eyes can check the lab logs and know it would’ve been impossible for you to have discovered what you said you did. You haven’t even been here.”
But he just laughs at me. “You think anyone gives a shit about lab logs? It’s all about the package.” He swipes up and down himself. “‘Golden-boy-genius saves company’ makes a far better story than ‘some street rat diddles himself in lab for years, not in time to save the boss’s wife but look, here’s some face cream out of it at least’—”
I grab him by his shirt and slam him up against the nearest wall.
He just smirks at me and speaks in a condescending tone. “Yes, violence is always the answer to you low-class types, isn’t it? Help me help you on your way out. Take a swing.”
I drop him and take several stumbling steps back. This is all a game to him. A game where he thinks he’s pulling the strings. He thinks he’s always in control.
“Too bad. That was your last chance. Shoulda taken it.”
I glare up at him, but not in time. I don’t see him coming until he’s almost on top of me, fists swinging.
“Fucker!” I shout, and try to get an arm up to block, but I’m too late. His blow lands square on my left cheek, and it knocks me to the floor. He’s wearing a class ring and it digs in and tears my flesh, so there’s blood running down my cheek when he’s done.
He dances back to his feet and smooths down his suit coat and pants. Then he just shakes his head at me on the floor in disgust. “You’re done here. Pack your shit and leave.”
I want to get up, roar in rage, and tear his fucking face off. Anyone who really knows the guy would understand and cheer me on.
But that’s the thing. Nobody does know the real Adam Archer. He’s that plastic for a reason—so everyone believes the benign Ken-doll act. It’s his secret weapon.
And what happens to Daphne if I suddenly go to jail for assault and battery. Because if I started in on Adam, I don’t know if I could stop. Where does that leave the girl who’s always left behind, last in everyone’s considerations?
I can’t be one more person she counts on to just up and disappear from her life.
Even thinking of her makes all the shit I’m feeling a little less oppressive. I pull my phone out of my lab coat and call her. I know it’s old school, an actual phone call, but I’d kill to hear her voice right now.
She doesn’t answer, but I still close my eyes and sink back against the wall while I listen to her message: This is Daphne’s phone. I’m not here right now but leave a message and…yada yada, you know the rest. Bye!
It would be creepy to call back just so I can listen to her chipper voice on the message, right? And I know it was recorded a long time ago, back before her mom died. She’s having a hard time with everything, not that you’d know it by the way she’s absolutely disappeared into her studies.
Some kids would’ve abandoned working so hard after losing the parent all the work was intended to save, but not Daph. Never Daph. It was like there was a new fire under her butt now that Battleman’s had taken her mom, like she wanted to say F you to the disease even more, and was more determined than ever to figure out what made it tick and how to stop it.
Like father, like daughter, except that I suspected if Daphne ever had children, she’s take all the time in the world to love and cherish them.
For just a brief second, I let the fantasy take shape, Daphne and I coming home from the lab together, picking the kids up from school, then all going home to cook a rambunctious dinner…a family, a home, everything I never had but always dreamed of…or really only let myself dream of since meeting her.
Everything seems possible when I’m with her. It’s her magic.
But she’s still so young, and vulnerable after her mother’s death. I can’t go with all this to her—she’s still in college, already working too hard and the last one I want Adam pointing his sights on is her if he decides she’s a threat to his plan.
And that means I need to fight for her company. Because she can’t yet.
Which leaves only one person left to put a stop to Adam’s ambitions before he destroys us all.
I need to go have a chat with Dr. Laurel.
When I knock on the door to Daphne’s father’s office, at first I don’t hear anything.
“I told you, he’s asked for no visitors,” his aged assistant chides.
“Well, he needs to speak to me or he’s going to have his company stolen right out from under him.”
She purses her lips but then sits back in her chair and picks up her yarn needles.
“Dr. Laurel,” I pound on the door again, since her calling his office had no effect. “It’s Logan. I need to speak to you.”
Finally, finally, there’s movement from within and the doorknob creaks open. He doesn’t stay at the door to greet me, He just pulls it open and then disappears back into the dark room.
There are no lights on. The blinds aren’t open. Maybe my eyes will adjust but after the bright fluorescents of the waiting room, it first appears pitch black in here. I can only barely make out the shape of a man sitting behind his desk, and it’s only when he moves, to take a drink of something, that I’m sure.
I clear my throat. I’ll just pretend like nothing’s wrong. Probably the best way to play this. “Look, Sir, I don’t know what the best way to tell you this is, but Adam Archer is trying to steal your company out from underneath you and turn it into something completely different than you ever envisioned.”