A Shot of Red (7 page)

Mia nodded, struggling to keep her expression neutral.
You have no idea.

Chapter Six

Gio made a point not to stare at the empty seat at the round table for eight in the dining room at the Spanish-mission-style Congressional Country Club. Night had fallen and the sprawling fairways of the championship golf courses were no longer visible from the expansive palladium windows hung with heavy draperies. There were plenty more convenient places to have dinner than all the way out here in Maryland, but Senator Moncure and Secretary Dartmouth were reveling in government fame right now with the early launch of the One Shot program. News of a business dinner at the country club was bound to travel to all the desired media outlets, proving that the two of them—along with Moncure Therapeutics—were relentlessly waging the battle against a flu pandemic and saving on health care costs, all while keeping it classy and somewhat private at the country club.

If the program was successful in suppressing the flu outbreak, then Senator Moncure would have earned a mother lode of political capital to take her into her reelection campaign next year. His job would be easier by half, if not more—if he could stay away from Mia and keep it. He glanced at the empty chair meant for her and wondered if he’d have a job at all if Senator Moncure knew what had gone on between the two of them. Obviously Matthew had no clue either, because everything he knew made its way to his mother.

Mia must have a lot more nerve than he’d even given her credit for, keeping this group waiting. As each minute ticked past, Senator Moncure’s face pinched a little tighter, and Secretary Dartmouth glanced at her intermittently with an ever-sharper glint of impatience in his eyes. Matthew gloated, never bothering to hide his glee every time he thought he’d one-upped Mia, a dynamic that was easy for anyone who knew what was at stake between them to see. Gio wondered how Mia had dealt with that all her life, and how she could stand him at all.

Lila Moncure and Claude Deschamps chatted amiably with Ellen Sloane, as if Mia’s tardiness wasn’t an inconvenience. Gio simply watched and waited. When Mia finally arrived, he’d be nearer to her than he’d been in eight long months. But would he be any closer to getting answers to all the questions he had?

Since their fateful night together, he’d run the gamut of emotions when it came to Mia. Before, he’d been emotionally unflappable when it came to women—if not somewhat detached. But something had changed that night with Mia. Something she’d robbed him of exploring further, and sometimes that made him damn angry. Sure, there’d been obstacles—not the least of which was him working for her mother—but her running away had given them zero chance to even try to see if their “real” night could turn into a real relationship. It wouldn’t have been easy, and it might not have worked out. But there might’ve been a chance if she hadn’t gone to Haiti and shut off communication with nearly everyone, from what he understood. At least he wasn’t alone in that.

After several more minutes and another visit from the waiter asking if the party still wanted to wait to place their orders, Mia arrived in a flurry. She dropped her purse next to her chair, looking preoccupied and stressed. Even so, she was the best sight Gio had seen since she’d shown up at the press conference last night. She looked chic and professional in her steel-gray pantsuit. The pale-pink blouse she wore beneath her jacket matched the color of her lightly glossed lips.
Her lips…
His heart tugged like a rip current as he tore his gaze away from them, knowing better than to drown in those memories right now.

“Sorry I kept everyone waiting.” Mia winced.

Senator Moncure, Secretary Dartmouth, and Matthew glared at her in triplicate.

“I was visiting Nora English,” she said solemnly, “and it was difficult to leave her.”

The glare squad sat chastised. Could they really fault her for not being able to make a quick exit from the grieving mother of her ex-boyfriend, especially since he’d been a Moncure employee? The poor guy would be sitting at this table right now if he were still alive.

Gio took several gulps of water, emptying his glass.

A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of Lila Moncure’s mouth as Mia took the seat next to Ellen, who sat in between Mia and Gio. She was seated at such an angle that he couldn’t catch her eye—even if he dared. This white-tablecloth-and-silver atmosphere, in the company of the characters in her family, was no place to flirt with that kind of disaster. The last thing he wanted them to know was that outside of his job, he hadn’t thought about much else but her since the moment she’d gotten on his motorcycle months ago.

“CVS is sponsoring a One Shot event at the Broadmoor tomorrow,” Mia said as she put her napkin in her lap. “Nice to see a big chain jumping in and recruiting the seniors so quickly.”

Secretary Dartmouth actually smiled a little. Gio was surprised the guy’s face didn’t crumble. Senator Moncure nodded approvingly. He had to give Mia credit for quickly neutralizing the tension at the table.

“Those seniors are a critical demographic,” Richard said. “The government can’t afford to have them sick—or any other demographic, for that matter.”

Senator Moncure grimaced. “Health care costs were totally out of control even before we made the huge investment in this vaccine. It’s critical for people to get their shots.”

“You’ve got a big job ahead of you, Mia,” Matthew said, clearly eager to put the pressure back on her.

“She’ll do fine,” Lila said, and Claude nodded.

Matthew shrugged one shoulder. “I just worry, since she’s been out of the corporate loop so long.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Mia said. “There’s no need to talk about me in third person.”

This was as close to the Moncure family inner circle as Gio had ever gotten, and he had a front-row seat watching Mia live up to her renegade reputation. At the very least, she didn’t hesitate to take up for herself. Seeing her like this stirred up his blood and had him wanting her more. It pissed him off a little, really. He wanted her way too damn much already.

“The stakes are really high with this vaccine.” Matthew spoke to Mia, but made eye contact with his mother.

“I’ve been hands-on in a high-stakes area for months now,” Mia said calmly. “I understand the fear involved in a tense and potentially life-threatening situation like we have here now. And believe it or not, I’m squared away with the facts about the vaccine, down to its molecular structure, but I don’t think that’s what the American people are going to be tuning in to hear about when I’m on TV.”

“She has a point,” Lila said. “Besides, a CDC person will be traveling with the team, and we’re all just a phone call away.”

“We’ll have Gio there,” Senator Moncure said. The confident tone in her voice pleased Gio, but he didn’t imagine it scored him any points with Mia.

“And Ellen.” Mia gave Ellen a reassuring smile. “From what I’ve seen, you and Brent have been the most instrumental from a PR perspective.”

Gio wasn’t sure what to make of the ease with which Mia said Brent’s name. He couldn’t tell if she was hiding lots of emotion, or if the loss of him hadn’t affected her as deeply as he might’ve suspected.

“I’ll second that,” Gio said to Ellen. “I always appreciate your efficiency and attention to detail. Brent kept everything running top-notch.” He nodded. “I’ll miss working with him.” He leaned forward and glanced at Mia, careful not to look her in the eye. “How’s Mrs. English holding up?”

Everyone’s attention focused on Mia. One thing they could all agree on was that losing Brent was a tragedy.

Mia bowed her head and fussed with her silverware, blinking several times. “She’s devastated. But she seemed proud that there was a One Shot event at the Broadmoor tomorrow, as if it was in memory of Brent and all the PR work he did for the launch. She said she’ll be the first in line to get her shot.”

“That’s sad,” Ellen said. “But it’s good that she’s finding a way to cope.”

“Getting vaccinated is the right thing to do,” Secretary Dartmouth said. “She needs to take care of herself. The woman’s probably weak from shock and grief. I can’t even imagine.”

Mia lifted her chin and stared out the window, seeming preoccupied by the inky darkness. “I can.”

Lila, who sat next to Mia, squeezed Mia’s hand. “I know it’s been a shock for you, too, sweetie.”

Gio quickly turned his attention to the waiter, who’d returned to take their dinner orders. He ordered himself another glass of bourbon.

“We’ll keep you posted daily on the stats,” Matthew said to Mia.

Secretary Dartmouth nodded. “We’ve assured Congress and the president that we can reach a large percentage of the population quickly, especially in the high-risk demographics. My department has developed metrics to track our progress, coupled with Moncure’s inventory and distribution activity. It won’t be exactly real-time, but we’ll be able to assess the impact of your appearances on a day-to-day basis.” He looked pointedly at Mia.

“I trust that everyone’s crafted the message for maximum impact,” she said.

Gio admired the way she could turn a phrase to defend herself without being defensive. He just hoped she never used that tactic on him.

“It’s not the message we’re worried about.” Matthew took the last swallow of his scotch and narrowed his droopy eyes at Mia. “It’s the messenger.”

…

Mia set her jaw and willed herself not to take the bait from Matthew. Could this situation get much worse? Evidently Matthew had doubled down on his determination to one-up her and position himself as the only choice to run Moncure Therapeutics in the future. She could see why he’d think he had the advantage, considering she’d been away at such a critical time. Whether or not she wanted to be at the helm of the company in the future, being the face of the One Shot program was an opportunity for her to steal some of Matthew’s swagger.

But was she really up for the challenge? Right now she was more interested in finding out more about Brent’s suspicions and his death. She’d been late to dinner on purpose, hoping to get a revealing reaction from someone when she mentioned visiting Nora. But no one did anything remarkable, leaving Mia to wonder if anyone in their inner circle had a clue, or if they were all just acting.

Mia discreetly shifted her gaze to each person at the table. No one seemed to have any reservations about the vaccine, or moving forward with an early launch. Maybe they had run into a snag along the way, but there hadn’t been any mention of it. Brent could’ve misunderstood the normal ups and downs and debates that happened during vaccine development. Or he might’ve simply been mistaken. But if he’d been chasing phantoms, why had his death been justified with a lie? Mia’s chest tightened and she wondered if she really had the stomach for dinner.

What had Brent suspected that had taken him all the way to Switzerland under the ruse of attending a funeral for a friend—especially so close to the launch of the vaccine? Something wasn’t right, for sure. Mia was the only one who had access to his safe-deposit box and could find out what was going on. She owed it to her family’s company, and to Nora and Brent. And she might owe it to even more people if something was going on with the vaccine.

It was all she could do to keep her concerns to herself as dinner proceeded with more talk of vaccines and metrics and demographics. She’d been around this business all of her life, and felt confident about her role in the One Shot program. What had her edgy was sitting one seat away from Gio and trying to act unaffected. When she’d come in, she caught a tinge of his cologne as she walked past him. The scent alone sent tingles swirling through her and an aching desire to touch him again. Although she couldn’t really see him unless she turned her head sharply and looked past Ellen, she was completely aware of him just the same.

But Ellen wasn’t going to be between them 24-7. While she sorted out what to do about Brent’s claims, she’d have to sort out her feelings for Gio, too. His life could’ve taken lots of turns while she was away. She had no idea how he felt about her, if he felt anything at all.

Mia barely touched her dinner and declined dessert, using her and Ellen’s flight as an excuse for them to leave. Surely Gio wouldn’t be far behind her since he had to travel, too. Ellen would fly from Dulles airport since it was closer to her home, yet Mia was scheduled out of Reagan National. She hadn’t asked Gio about his plans, and she didn’t intend to.

Alone in her car, Mia tugged in a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. After her late-evening flight to New York, she’d face a middle-of-the-night wake-up call before her appearance on the
Today Show
in the morning. Nearly every minute was planned. Had that been someone’s intent? Because such a frenzied schedule left her no time to investigate Brent’s claims.

Chapter Seven

In a little over three hours, Mia stepped into her room at the Algonquin Hotel in Times Square, recently renovated to its original grandeur. Staying there was like traveling back in time, but with all the modern conveniences. The original marble on exposed staircases with decorative wrought iron railings showed the wear of the years.

Mia’s grandfather used to talk about how Dorothy Parker had gathered at the Algonquin with her Vicious Circle of writers and critics at the fabled Round Table.

“Back in the early twenties,” he’d said. “And they’ve got the
New York
magazine to show for it
.
”

A complimentary copy of the latest edition had been placed on the desk in Mia’s room. Hyped up from travel and stress, she took the time to flip through the pages, tears welling in her eyes as she remembered her grandfather reading the magazine, and then her dad. She’d even picked it up herself now and then before she went to Haiti. No doubt Lila still had a subscription.

Her room had a cozy old-world feeling that couldn’t be replicated even in some of the most luxurious New York City hotels, but Mia longed for Haiti. Life had been so much simpler there, and she was overwhelmed by how quickly it had become complicated again. She wasn’t naive enough to think that coming back would be easy, but she’d never expected anything like this. She’d never expected Brent to be dead. Or her feelings for Gio to still be so alive.

Mia considered making the first move with him, and trying to clear the air so that working together would be less of an emotional drain on her.
And on him, too?
But what explanation could she offer him at this point? Running from him and her feelings had only been a temporary solution. Now that she was back, they’d caught up with her.

She’d do better to focus on trying to justify or refute Brent’s claims. Now that she’d had time to process the shock of seeing Brent’s video last night, she was ready to have a more critical look. Was there something there that she hadn’t seen during the several times she played it? She hadn’t lugged her old laptop with her since she had to bring her work computer. But there was an easy solution for viewing the video here at the hotel. Mia grabbed her purse and headed down to the business center by way of the stairs, hoping to reduce the risk of running into Ellen or Gio on the elevator—if they’d even arrived yet. A lone businessman was leaving just as she arrived in the glass-enclosed room. She sat in front of a computer and swiped her credit card to activate it. The charges were robbery, but she’d be willing to pay way more to have a closer look at Brent’s video. Maybe there were some clues in his cryptic message that she hadn’t caught before.

Her hand trembled as she slid the flash card into the reader, just as it had last night. But now her nerves were more from fear. What if Brent was right? And what if he really had been murdered?

The icon appeared on the screen. The glass wall of the business center was at Mia’s back, so she glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching before she launched the video. Satisfied that she was alone, she turned up the volume and clicked play.

She could practically quote Brent word for word, so she concentrated on the intonations of his voice, looking for a subtle lift of his eyebrows or a slight narrowing of his eyes. Anything to give her something to go on. But the video played to the end and she saw nothing that she hadn’t seen before.

“I still love you, Mia. Moncure Therapeutics is your future. Don’t let them steal it from you.” Brent’s final words to her seeped all the way into her bones. But this wasn’t about her. It was about the millions of people who were hurrying to get vaccinated against the flu. And it was about the company her grandparents and father had worked so hard to build.

The screen went black, and Mia pinched her eyes closed. She vaguely registered the door to the business center opening with a
swoosh
.

“Mia?”

Gio.
He’d spoken her name like a prayer in moments of passion during the night they spent together. She’d imagined hearing it again and again during the months that they’d been apart.

Her heart hammered double time as she swiveled in the chair and met his gaze. Every time she saw him was like the first time since she returned from Haiti. But now that they were alone, she could linger over the sight of him. Her attraction to him only grew, despite the emotional distance between them. It was more than fear and uncertainty that had her wanting him, longing for all she’d remembered about him. The dark stubble on his face, his broad, sturdy shoulders, his overlong hair that she’d clutched at the back of his neck as he’d kissed her. His lips. Her breath caught. The one place she’d feel safe right now was in his arms.

“Are you all right?” he asked, lines of concern etching his handsome face.

Mia nodded. Despite the desperate thoughts racing through her mind, she noticed he’d changed into jeans since dinner and that they fit him just as well or better than the ones he had on that night back in February. She blinked several times, trying to get her mind straight.

“You look like you could use a drink,” he said.

Mia made a lame attempt to smile. “Or several.” She’d known the time would come when they’d be alone together, she just hadn’t guessed it would be right after she’d watched Brent’s video again. Now Gio had come in and stirred up her emotions even more.

She pulled the flash card from the computer and tucked it into her jacket pocket, avoiding Gio’s gaze. Had he seen Brent’s video playing? She wondered how long he’d been outside the business center before he’d come in.

The concern in Gio’s eyes looked genuine, and Mia wanted to believe it was, but she wasn’t sure whom to trust. She hardly knew him beyond their mutual associations, and their incredible connection during their one night together. But he’d been in her thoughts every day since, so she felt as if she knew him well. She warned herself not to let lust trump logic. As difficult as it would be to keep the information about Brent to herself, she had to. The second she confided in someone, they’d be at risk, too.

Her best tactic was to act as casual as she could, even though her insides were in knots.

“How about we have those several drinks at the Blue Bar?” Gio asked, referring to the hotel’s swanky lounge.

Mia wasn’t sure that mixing alcohol and Gio was the wisest thing to do, but saying no would only cause more stress between them. Besides, there was a part of her that longed to be with him despite the new level of doubt she had about him—and everyone else. How would she figure out whom to trust if she didn’t start looking more closely?

…

In the haze of blue light in the Blue Bar, Gio pulled out an ivory-colored leather chair for Mia, then sat in the corner on an upholstered banquette, facing her and the door. He hated to have his back to the room, and always tried to avoid it. Nearby, the polished marble bar sparkled with the reflection of countless blue points of light, which could’ve been really gaudy if it weren’t done with class. But here, it was. Somehow the dark paneling, ivory and black leather, and blue hues worked together, even though he couldn’t see it happening in his Capitol Hill town house.

Mia glanced up at the framed artwork hanging on the wall next to their table—a simple, ink-drawn scene from
The Sound of Music
. Other similar pieces featured the plays
Chicago
and
Rent
.

“Ellen keeps talking about taking in a show.”

He could tell she was struggling to think of something to say. Obviously he’d caught her off guard when he walked past the business center on the way to his room on the same floor. Her silky blond hair had caught his eye, and it took him only a moment to realize it was her. Then he’d seen a video of Brent playing on the computer screen. The scene had struck him as odd. He could understand that she was grieving over Brent, and that watching videos of him might help her deal with her loss. But why hadn’t she been watching it in private, on her computer, in her room? It just didn’t make sense for her to watch it in the business center.

“Maybe something off-Broadway,” Mia said.

A middle-aged, dark-haired waiter stepped up to the table. “Drinks for you two?”

“A martini, with extra olives, please.” Mia gave him a look that wasn’t at all flirty, but there was no way he could say no to it.

“My pleasure,” the waiter said, and turned to Gio.

No doubt.

“Maker’s Mark, neat.”

“Yes, sir.” The waiter hurried off toward the bar.

It took all of Gio’s self-control not to launch right into all the questions he had for Mia, now that they were alone. He sensed she was waiting for them, but he knew the value of timing.

“Your mom and Secretary Dartmouth seem eager for your appearances to start,” he said, figuring business was a safe topic…for now.

Mia shot him a doubtful look. “Only a tad more than Matthew, who can’t wait to see me crash and burn.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve nearly managed to make it four hours without criticism from him.”

“But the night’s still young.”

She nearly smiled, and his pulse ratcheted up a notch. “Lila called while I was on the way here and said we’re already getting reorders for vaccine stock.”

“The press conference must’ve been a good kickoff.” Was he really sitting here talking to her about the press conference? It was all he could do to stay patient and get past the small talk.

“Yeah. But people are still dying.” She furrowed her brow. “More by the day. I was telling Lila how I hate to look at the fatality statistics. It’s like those poor people are just numbers, and I don’t think of them that way. Especially after what I saw in Haiti.” Her gaze met his and he was riveted by the sadness in her eyes. “Every person who died in that earthquake mattered to someone. And every person who dies there because we aren’t sending any more vaccine right now will matter to someone, too.”

Gio liked seeing a softer side of her, but her sentimentality might not work to her advantage if she wanted to run Moncure Therapeutics someday. He’d seen none of that from Matthew. Ever. But it worked for Gio—more than he wished it did. He liked that she could be tough when she needed to, and still have compassion.

“What does your grandmother say about the fatalities?” he asked.

“She understands where I’m coming from. But she likes to focus on the positive.” Mia shook her head. “Guess the stress would’ve killed her by now if she didn’t know how to manage it. I can’t imagine how she keeps from worrying nonstop about the vaccine formulation every year.”

Gio wondered how many people knew that formulating flu vaccines was a huge crapshoot. Each year, experts from the FDA, the World Health Organization, the CDC, and other public health agencies studied flu virus samples and global disease patterns, hoping to identify which virus strains were likely to cause the most illness during the next flu season. Moncure Therapeutics had to bet on those educated guesses to formulate its vaccine. There was always the possibility that the virus strains predicted and the virus strains that emerged and caused illness wouldn’t be a match. Such a scenario would mean lots of wasted time, money, and vaccine. But more importantly, there might be a lot of sickness, and possibly deaths. Especially with a threat like they had this year.

How did Mrs. Moncure deal with the stress of it? And everyone else at the company, to a certain extent? It had to be difficult to shoulder that kind of responsibility. “She’s a shrewd businesswoman. Maybe she’s gotten used to the gamble, and she counts on the odds. I reviewed some of the history, and it seems like they’ve been in Moncure’s favor.”

The waiter arrived with their drinks. After he stepped away, Mia lifted her glass. “To the odds being with us this year,” she said. “I’ve seen enough human suffering. And Moncure can’t afford to get this wrong.” Her voice wavered with an unusual tremor.

Gio tipped his glass to hers and took a welcome swallow of smooth bourbon. He looked at her curiously as the fiery liquid slowly burned a path to his stomach. “Aren’t you confident in the vaccine?”

She blinked a couple of times, absently toying with the olive pick in her glass. “Not as confident as Lila. I’d be foolish not to have doubts.” She looked him in the eyes. “Doubt has to be part of the equation.”

“Your mom and Secretary Dartmouth seem pretty confident.”

“Could you call him Richard, at least to me?” she asked with an edge.

“Is that what you call him?”

“When I’m being kind. Otherwise, the obvious nickname works for me.”

Gio smiled. “Richard it is.”

She took another swallow of her drink. “He thinks of himself as my surrogate father. But with all the discipline and none of the love.”

Gio pressed his lips together tightly, not surprised as much by her comment as he was by her openness. Since she’d left shortly after their night together, without a peep since, he figured she’d be more emotionally closed off. “I understand your dad was a great guy. Ellen mentions him sometimes.”

“But my mom doesn’t, does she?” She leveled her blue-eyed gaze on him.

What should he say to that? He could lie and say yes, but lies weren’t what he wanted between them, no matter how white or well-intentioned they might be. “No,” he said after hesitating long enough that she probably knew his answer already.

“My dad was a great guy.” Mia smoothed her slender fingers along the stem of her glass and had Gio wishing she were teasing him like that. “The best.” Her silky hair fell across her shoulder and cast a shadow on one side of her face, making her look even sexier. “I was a daddy’s girl. And a granddaddy’s girl.” She took a slow sip of her drink. “Thank goodness Lila wasn’t as sensitive about it as my mother was.”