Page 24 of Love Under the Microscope
“Does Nigel know Mr. Z?” Jack asks.
“No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“The so-called negative press you mention seems more targeted at Mr. Z than Nate Lowe.”
“They’re co-CEOs, and Zentello is their baby. If the company takes a hit, they both do.”
Jack rubs a hand down his face. I bet he’s trying to figure out how this information will play into his exclusive and doesn’t care about my situation. That’s okay. He’s only with me for his own gain. The same reason I’m with him. So we’re even.
“Do you want to ruin Nigel or just stop him from trying to ruin Zentello?” Jack asks.
“Stop him,” I reply without any hesitation. “He could cost many hardworking people their jobs if he continues with this vengeance against Zentello. If something happens to the company, it’ll destroy Nate.”
“And Mr. Z?”
I nod again. “They both love Zentello. Thinking about what’s happened in the past and what could happen makes me hate Nigel.”
“I can tell based on your tone. You’re seething.”
“Nate’s suffered enough. I don’t want him to hurt more.”
“Do you, erm, do you still have feelings for Dr. Lowe? I mean, Nate?” Jack appears uncomfortable asking the question, which is so adorable.
Many people struggle with the idea that Nate and I still love each other in a platonic, best-friend way. It isn’t strange to me, though. Nate has been in my life for so many years. He was there when my life fell apart in grad school, and I’m not sure where I would’ve ended up without him. We just weren’t good as a married couple. He was and continues to be focused on work. It’s always been that way. Nate couldn’t see beyond his goals, and back then, that caused problems.
We fought over the small stuff, and the big stuff, and worked far too hard, which meant romantically we were a disaster. Eating dinner over a desk or at a lab bench didn’t exactly lend itself to romance and roses. We were a divorce waiting to happen.
And it did.
I learned a good lesson, though.
When you don’t work together, a person has to make more of an effort to see a partner. At least that’s what I found with Nigel. I left the office at a decent hour and called him every lunchtime. I also texted him throughout the day. Nate and I never did any of that. Most days, we grabbed lunch between meetings and worked until we fell asleep at our desks. No, we weren’t good as a married couple, but as friends, we were and still are amazing.
“Not romantically,” I finally say. “I love Nate dearly, but only as my best friend.”
“You’re lucky to have found someone like that.”
His wistful tone makes me wonder what Jack’s story is, but this isn’t a get-to-know-you date. The less I know about him, the better. “I know.”
“So what do we do about Nigel Carrington?”
I think about it and wait for inspiration to strike. After a minute, it does, and I grin, pleased that my brain still works at this hour. “I have another idea. A much better one than you getting a job at UnoPharm. You’re going to love this.”
Jack groans and drops his head. “Why do I get the feeling that means I’ll hate it?”
CHAPTER 5
JACK
I haven’t known Zelda Lowe for long, but I get the feeling I won’t like what she’s about to tell me. I mean, she seems to shoot from the hip without thinking of all the implications. Why else would she ask for help from a reporter or tell me to work undercover for a rival company? Those aren’t well-thought-out plans.
Not that I haven’t acted impulsively without a true plan in the past. Christina Jenkins-Zimmer proves that, as well as how I ended up working at PharmaNews, but the twinkle in Zelda’s eyes tells me she’s excited about this new plan. My guess is that means there’s a whole load of shit she wants me to do.
I swallow a sigh and try to mentally prepare myself. “Go on. Tell me this big plan of yours.”
She drops her feet to the floor and leans toward me. “You’ll love this one. It’s so much better than the other.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, and tiredness suddenly creeps up. Visiting her at three in the morning has been one of my worst ideas ever. And brushing against her breasts earlier had turned me into a clumsy twelve-year-old. I don’t know what it is about her, but she discombobulates me.
