Page 1 of Love Under the Microscope
PROLOGUE
ZELDA
My office door slides open with no warning, and a red-faced Nate Lowe storms inside. His steps are so heavy the floor shakes. “It’s Ryan Matthews. He’s the mole.”
My jaw drops because I’m speechless. How could that sweet young man, who wears an eye patch and has the singing voice of an angel, be the mole? Sure, I can imagine his mother, a.k.a. Bitter Belinda, selling confidential company information to PharmaNews, an industry magazine, but not her son. “You’re sure Ryan’s the mole?”
“One hundred percent positive.” As Nate shifts his weight between his feet, he gives me the rundown on the impressive sting operation executed by two employees, Drs. Sam Grant and Hildy Russell, who work on the top-secret Orchid project. Nate hands me a piece of paper. “Hildy also discovered the identity of the reporter who met and paid off Ryan. This is his name. I have photographs of him at my desk.”
I’m not a fan of Hildy, though I’ve come to find out recently that it’s more Nate’s fault than hers, but I owe her and Sam for figuring this out. PharmaNews has been trying to ruin Zentello with lies disguised as news articles for years. However, my bigger concern is that some of the printed information couldn’t have come from Ryan or Dr. Jennings, the other mole we discovered more than two years ago.
Who else has been talking to the magazine?
Two words are written on the paper I’m now looking at: Jack Parker. Such a generic name, nothing like the pseudonyms based on classical authors the magazine’s reporters have been using for their bylines. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m firing Ryan Matthews.” Nate’s voice is harsh. Given what Ryan’s done, he deserves to lose his job like Jennings did. “Sam and Hildy let Ashton know about the fake letter given to the reporter, and the legal team is on it, but I want you to make sure the reporter knows the info he has is fake, so he doesn’t try to use it against us. And see what else you can find out about him so you can shut him down.”
I do a double take. What he’s asking me to do makes absolutely zero sense. “That sort of thing is more Ashton’s wheelhouse.”
“My brother will handle it if things go south, but until that happens, I don’t want him involved more than he already is.” As Nate’s gaze darkens, his jaw tenses. “Chloe has another ultrasound scheduled for this afternoon. Buttercup has been misbehaving. And Roddy and Mano are in town. They’ve gone full-on guncles, decorating the nursery and making offers on both houses on either side of where Ashton and Chloe live even though neither place is on the market. My brother doesn’t need to be bothered with anything else.”
Ouch. Buttercup is the sugar glider who once belonged to Chloe’s best friend, Roddy. He’s a sweet guy, but the definition of extra. During the first trimester of Chloe’s pregnancy, Roddy suffered sympathetic morning sickness from Hawaii, where he lives. Needless to say, Ashton has his hands full. At least Roddy’s husband is with him now instead of staying home on the Big Island, but it sounds like Mano is joining in on the madness, not trying to reel it in.
“I’m happy to see you making Ashton's needs a priority,” I say, pleased with Nate’s concern for his brother’s well-being. He’s always been self-centered, but he’s showing some much-needed growth today. That’s something I never expected to happen. “But this is exactly the kind of assignment Ashton enjoys. Make sure you tell him why I’m handling the reporter so he doesn’t take it personally. You know he looks up to you.”
I’m not sure why, given how much shit Nate gives Ashton. The younger Lowe brother is Zentello’s VP of marketing—and a damn good one—but he’s also Nate’s henchman. That’s what younger brothers are for, according to Nate. And ex-wives, apparently.
Well, his ex-wife.
Me.
This isn’t the first time Nate’s asked me to do his dirty work when Ashton couldn’t—like while Ashton was on his honeymoon with Chloe. His wife is just what Ashton needs, but my life was so much easier when my ex-brother-in-law was a grumpy, brooding workaholic who was always around to do Nate’s bidding.
“I’ll talk to my brother,” Nate says casually, as if he wants me to pass the salt at dinner. But that’s Nate for you. He only handles matters he deems important, and the rest is delegated, even if it’s critical to Zentello.
Kind of like the way I was when we were married.
“Thanks.” And I say that with all sincerity. “It’ll mean a lot to Ashton.”
Besides me, Nate’s brother is all he has. My ex-husband might be known as the golden boy of the pharmaceutical industry, but he has far more acquaintances than friends. His obsession with trying to be perfect makes him annoying as hell to be around.
“You’ll be better with the reporter than me,” he admits.
“Yeah, I will,” I say because we both know the truth. Nate and reporters are like sodium metal and water. The explosive reaction is to be avoided at all costs. “I’ll let you know what I find on Jack Parker.”
As Nate leaves, I pull out my notebook from my desk drawer and open it to a tab marked media. I initially wrote enemies, but I was afraid someone might see that and get the wrong impression, so I covered it with a sticker. However, anyone listed on those pages has it out for Zentello. At least I hope this is about the company and not some personal vendetta against Nate since he has pissed off a lot of people.
I rub my fingers over the name on the paper as if the friction or my body temperature would reveal an answer written in invisible ink. It doesn’t.
Who are you, Jack Parker?
I get the feeling this guy is a pawn. The attack on Zentello seems too big to be created and pulled off by one science reporter. Someone else must be moving the pieces on the board, a mastermind behind all of this because, in some ways, the articles feel like a game, especially with the journalists all using famous writers’ names as their pseudonyms.
Why not use their real names and claim credit for the byline instead of acting like a merry band of assholes being paid to pillage and wreak havoc at Zentello?
Maybe Jack Parker is the key.
Questions swirl in my mind, but no answers follow. I hate when that happens. Still, that’s the beauty of science. Running experiments, examining data, and noticing patterns. Although I haven’t worked in a lab in far too long. Maybe it’s time …
