Chapter 1
Beams of light flashed across stainless steel surfaces. Music pulsed as the light bounced around the room, slowly picking up speed.
Or maybe I’m moving faster?
Beneath the mirror ball, Ivy Grant spun in circles. She knew the room’s layout. She lived in this space.
Day and night.
For years.
She could close her eyes, dance like a woman possessed by desire, and still she wouldn’t knock anything over. Her head tipped back, sending her long, blond hair cascading over her shoulders. Her lips parted as her hips found the rhythm. Sort of. She missed a beat as she mouthed the words to her fight song. But she didn’t care.
She’d fought.
And finally, finally, she’d won.
“This is my fight song,” she bellowed. “My—”
The music cut out. Ivy froze with her arms flung wide and her back to the door. Fluorescent lights flickered on overhead. And just like that, the pseudo-nightclub disappeared, leaving behind a windowless room lined with microscopes and centrifuges. The tools of her trade filled the state-of-the-art scientific research facility.
Ivy crossed her fingers behind her back and turned to the door.
If Peter cut my party short to brag about his increased funding again, I’ll…
Sugar. She’d smile and nod. She’d offer her congratulations for the tenth time today because the world needed a cure for cancer. The Burke Initiative should be spending their investors’ hard-earned dollars on Peter’s research.
But Peter wasn’t standing beside her stereo.
Penelope. Thank goodness.
The pale woman with raven hair arched one perfectly plucked eyebrow.
“Dance with me.” Ivy held out her hands to her research assistant-turned-best-friend.
“I don’t think so. I’m a zero on the graceful dancing scale. Plus, this isn’t a nightclub. If you keep moving like that, you’ll knock something over.” Penelope spoke in a low, smoky voice, as if it was designed to send men’s imaginations running to the bedroom. If Ivy’s assistant took her sultry tone to a bar, she could have her pick of eligible dates. But that would involve leaving the lab before ten o’clock on a Friday night. And thanks to the budget cuts, Ivy didn’t have enough staff on hand to be able to send her assistant off for a hot date. Heck, now she didn’t even have any staff aside from Penelope due to a reallocation of funds that had doubled Peter’s budget and eviscerated hers.
But that was about to change.
“We did it.” Ivy crossed the room and reached for her friend’s hands. Forget the music, they could dance for joy just fine without it. “The test worked. We’re one step closer to creating a quick and easy diagnostic test for amyloidosis.”
“What?” Penelope’s grip tightened on hers. “It worked? You did it?”
“We did it!” Ivy spun her assistant in a circle. Who needed dancing at a nightclub when you had success, and the high that comes with knowing you’re right? They’d found a way to detect a rare disease early. They were all the closer to finding a cure and saving lives. “We’re almost there. There will be more tests, of course. And clinical trials, once we develop a formula for a cure.”
Penelope drew to a halt. “We don’t have the budget,” she said flatly. “I’ve reviewed the numbers and—”
“Burke will give us more,” Ivy insisted. “I’ll start on the paperwork tonight. We could also approach the Amyloidosis Foundation. Maybe apply for another NIH grant. But the Burke Initiative has made a fortune this past year off their new vaccines and they’ve supported us this far.”
The corner of Penelope’s full lips shifted into a grin. “You could do more than fill out forms. You could meet with the billionaire captain of the Burke Initiative.”
Ivy cocked her head. “What?”
“Leave behind your mirror ball,” Penelope said, her voice rising as if she were standing center stage in a three-ring circus, introducing the main act—the lion. “And join the man who took the money he made off military contracts and started a for-profit initiative to fund medical research—the one and only Carter Burke. I heard he’s in town for an unrelated charity gala. If you r
ush to his office now…It’s close to six, but he’s probably still there. You can’t become a billionaire without a little overtime, right?”