Bliss (2 page)

Another bad night. He’d lost it all.

It always started the same way. A few spins on the roulette wheel, a few crap games, then to the blackjack tables, where tonight he’d dropped ten thousand in two hours.

Applegate let that thought sink in and considered his next move. He could return and try to win it back, or he could go home and try to explain to his wife why his credit cards were maxed out. It was an easy decision, Applegate’s need to gamble, consumed him.

He turned to go back in.

“Bad night again, Bob?” a voice behind him said.

Applegate spun around. “Who are you?”

“Might be a friend? Might be able to make all your problems go away?”

The guy looked like a human brick wall. Applegate stepped back. “What do you know about my problems, or if I even have any?”

The man reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out several small pieces of paper. “Well let’s see, you owe Tropicana five grand, another three at the Claridge, and, oh yea, don’t wanna forget the Don. You owe his Trump Plaza, two thousand.”

Applegate swallowed hard. ”What the devil are you doing with those? Do you work for the casino? I pay my bills. Who the hell are you anyway?”

“Doesn’t matter. What does matter is I can have all these bills taken care of and leave you with a whole lot more.”

Applegate raised his finger and pointed at the guy. “Wait a minute, let me guess. You’re one of those lobbyists from Washington, trying to get a waiver on a Medicare drug, right?”

“Getting warm, Bob, but not exactly. You’re right about the drug part. I have an associate who would be very grateful if you would expedite the approval of his company’s newest drug. In fact, he’d be so grateful, you could retire.”

Applegate’s jaw dropped. “Retire?”

“Two million, cash money, in your hands, as soon as it’s approved. That’s a lot of blackjack, Bob.”

Applegate felt his entire body flush. As FDA’s head of the approval board, he carried more clout than anyone when it came to new drug approvals. Often, just a memo from his office would get drug trials approved without any of the usual red tape.

“What drug are we talking about here?” Applegate asked.

“I’m just a messenger. You’ll get all the particulars from someone else. Do we have a deal?”

Applegate nodded. “Yes... yes, I think so. When will–“

“Someone will contact you tomorrow. Meanwhile, here,” the man said, handing Applegate a bulging yellow envelope. “Go back in and have some fun.”

The guy turned and walked away and Applegate tore open the envelope. His eyes bulged in their sockets. There had to be at least twenty thousand in one hundred dollar bills.

He’d just made a deal with the devil.

Applegate gazed up and down the boardwalk to make sure no one watched, and then shoved the money back into the envelope. Emblazoned on the upper left hand corner, a familiar corporate logo appeared: IMEC PHARMACEUTICALS.

Lindsey Walsh felt like her
life couldn’t be any better right now. As she pulled off Highway 87 at the Scottsdale exit, she realized her dreams had come true.

At age thirty, she was ready to get married, and after three years together, out of the blue, her boyfriend Jason had at last proposed.

It was on a weekend trip to the Pocono’s. They were lying on a big canopy bed at Blue Mountain. He had no ring–he just blurted it out. That was one of the things she loved about him–his spontaneity. She kissed him long and hard and he slipped off her nightgown.

“I guess that means yes,” he said, and they spent the rest of the night making love in front of the fireplace.

The next day as though choreographed for some dream scenario, Imec Pharmaceuticals offered her an incredible job. The position gave her a hefty compensation package including, among other things, the unbelievable perk of her own house!

Now, whisking off the ramp toward their headquarters, she gazed at the Imec building in the distance. A gigantic structure with a bastion of one-way glass that looked like it belonged in Las Vegas rather than in a business district.

She could also see the new community Imec had built for its employees. Situated on fifty-acres of pristine desert-floor, surrounded by the beautiful Cacaptin Mountains, it seemed too good to be true.

Indian Springs.

She practically fell off her chair when Stephen Vetter told her he wanted her to represent the company’s new line of designer drugs. Along with the rest of her compensation package, she would receive a home of her own in the new community, which included a pool and tennis club, spa facilities and just about any amenity you could ask for. Much like Silicon Valley had done in the eighties, Imec wanted its company to grow around its employees. A corporation within a community.

It was very different from her former employer, Ryland Pharmaceutical, a mere spec of a company compared to Imec. Rumor had it that a mass exodus from Ryland was taking place and all were flocking to Imec. Who could blame them? With all the perks that they offered and the charisma of Vetter, she wouldn’t want to come to Imec.

Vetter was charming, and Lindsey had to admit she even felt a slight attraction to him during her interview. But she quickly put it out of her mind. Vetter was handsome enough, with his boyish looks and spiked blond hair; he didn’t look his forty-seven years. Lindsey’s heart, however, belonged to Jason, now her fiancé.

Unfortunately, she could only see him on weekends until he found a job near Scottsdale. It would be six months, before he finished his residency at Traynor Hospital near Tucson, two hundred miles away. After that, he’d have no problem securing a job near her. Scottsdale was booming, and the demand for doctors was great. Especially one in his chosen specialty of Neurology. The brain was big business these days with the explosion of new medicines for Alzheimer’s and other degenerative diseases.

Lindsey’s own profession was proof of that. The top three drugs she’d represented in the past two years were serotonin-related drugs. That’s why she found it fascinating when Imec offered her the position of lead market executive for their new line of SSRI’s. The first generation of psychotropic drugs, completely free from side effects.

Lindsey turned off onto Route 100, opposite the American Indian Museum, then went one mile to a small access road.

Traffic thinned. She was glad to be out of the commuter rush and happy that she’d not have to face it every morning. Imec stood so close to her house, she’d be able to walk it in a few minutes. She drove through a brick-columned entrance and then down one of the freshly blacktopped streets that wound among new homes, many still under construction. In the forefront, the Imec complex sprawled out before her like its own city.

She found Indian Drive, the street the community entrance was on, and turned in. The housing office was at the end of a tree-lined cul-de-sac with its own parking lot.

She left the car and went in.

The modern office, with a fountain, plants, and indirect lighting and divided by a counter with a turnstile, was watched over by a smiling young female security guard wearing a holstered revolver.

Lindsey looked at the gun.
Tight security.

“I have an appointment with Sara Murdoch. My name is Lindsey Walsh. I’m supposed to move in today.” She tried to sound formal, but Lindsey could barely contain her excitement at the thought of moving into her very own brand-new house.

“Yes, Ms. Walsh, we’ve been expecting you.”

The guard telephoned the information to someone, then handed Lindsey a clipboard to sign in on.

The level of security surprised Lindsey. Although corporate espionage remained a remote possibility, she knew in pharmaceutical companies it was rare. There were too many variables. One mistake in a drug formulary could cost millions and even a worse possibility. Death to any unlucky trial patient unknowingly involved with a stolen drug formula. It was a frightening scenario. Apparently, one Imec took very seriously.

Almost immediately, a young woman appeared. Lindsey figured she was about twenty-five. She wore a white sundress and had her hair pulled back tight against her head. An ID card near her shoulder showed her name: Sara Murdock. The woman in charge of getting new employees moved into their respective houses.

She smiled warmly. “Lindsey, Hello. I’m Sara. Did you have any trouble finding us?”

“No, none at all.”

Sara led Lindsey back to an office where a huge map of the new community occupied a sizable portion of the wall. Lindsey regarded the map, which showed locations and diagrams of each individual lot, as well as location of pool and recreational facilities.

“Quite impressive, isn’t it?” Sara said.

Lindsey smiled. “I can’t believe I’ve got a place here.”

“Mr. Vetter believes in community. And it makes life a lot easier for employees not to have to commute to work. I take it you’ve seen the traffic on the way here?”

“Oh yea.”

Sara reached into her desk and pulled out a printed form. “I apologize for all the formality. It’s just that the company has spent a lot of money on this project and we need certain assurances.”

Lindsey read the form, which stated that Imec would require her to live at Indian Springs for the duration of her employment. Should she move it would be grounds for dismissal.

“Seems rather severe,” Lindsey said. “Mr. Vetter didn’t mention this.” Lindsey fell silent for a minute. “Well I’m not one to pass up an opportunity.”

Sara smiled. “I know how you feel. We all said that at first glance. But Imec is such a great company to work for; I don’t picture myself ever working anywhere else. I mean... a free house!”

Sara walked over to the wall and took down a set of keys from a pegboard. She handed them to Lindsey. “These are yours. Your house is on Palm Court. Let me show you.”

Sara stepped over to the window. “You’re right over there.” She pointed to a large cul-de-sac next to the swimming pool and recreation center. “Number twenty-nine. Right next to the pool. You’ll find yourself there a lot. This is Arizona. Our coolest day in the summer is ninety-five degrees.”

Lindsey fanned her face in a comical gesture.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” Sara said. “Well, you can go ahead and get whatever you brought with you unpacked, and familiarize yourself with your new house. I’m sure you’d like some time to unwind” Sara handed Lindsey a business card. “If you need anything, just buzz me at that number. Welcome to the Imec family.”

Lindsey thanked Sara Murdoch and followed her directions to the house. Only two doors down from the pool, Lindsey already felt the urge to get in. Right now, the heat was stifling, and the water looked like an oasis. She noticed several women already sunbathing and sipping cold drinks. She hoped she’d have enough time off to enjoy it. Her last t afforded her little if any free time to relax. I can’t wait!

She pulled into her driveway and stared at the new house. A long rancher, done in stucco with red clay roof tiles, arched windows and beautifully landscaped with traditional Arizona plants and shrubs. Lindsey loved it. Yucca and flowering-cactus grew alongside red sandstone that Arizona was famous for. It was a startling contrast.

Pinch me. I’m dreaming.

Lindsey unlocked the front door and went in. As she expected, Imec had decorated the house in gorgeous furniture and accessories. They’d used a colorful Southwestern motif that reflected the personality of the area. Entering the kitchen, she looked on the counter and saw a large ice bucket with a bottle of Dom Perrigone peeking out. A card sat next to it.

Lindsey,

Hope it is everything you expected.

Welcome to the IMEC family. Look forward to working with you soon.

Sincerely,

Stephen Vetter

Lindsey was floored. If this was any indication of her future at Imec, Sara Murdoch was right. Why would anyone want to work anywhere else?

After checking out the rest of the house, she found it just as impressive. Lindsey’s last stop was the master bath. A Jacuzzi tub. She had wanted a Jacuzzi tub since she could remember. Her cramped apartment barely had enough room for a shower, much less a tub.

I’m going to try you out right now.
She leaned over and flipped the faucet on.

While the tub filled, she brought in her two suitcases and plopped them on the bed. She undressed and slipped on her terrycloth robe and headed to the bath.

The long trip had left her sore and she savored the hot water as it jetted in a whirlpool around her. As she settled into the tub, Lindsey couldn’t believe her good fortune. The home, her job, her engagement.

There was so much to be happy for.

Yet something about it all left her very uneasy.

*   *   *

Inside a plush office, a video monitor came to life. It was one of a hundred that lined an entire wall in the specially designed room.

Stephen Vetter sat at a table and watched Lindsey Walsh as she soaked in her Jacuzzi. She looked even more attractive than he remembered her being at the interview. Her short-cut auburn hair looked newly blown dry, and her cheeks had a flushed freshness to them. His eyes scanned the length of her tight, sculpted torso, then back to her small pouting breasts. It was always a bonus if the new help looked good on camera.

An additional perk for being CEO.

Lindsey Walsh would do fine. She was smart, pretty, and ambitious. Too bad about her engagement. That might be a minor obstacle to overcome.

Vetter pushed a button and zoomed in on Walsh. His gaze fell on her well-trimmed pubic triangle of brown hair. He leaned back in his chair and let his hand slip to his lap.

He stared for a long time.
What would she be like?

He’d find out the answer to that soon enough.

Drenched in sweat, Robert Applegate
raced toward his office on Constitution Avenue. FDA headquarters, a sprawling complex of stone buildings just two blocks from the White House, lie just ahead. But first he had a stop to make. Applegate felt a growing chill inside as he turned onto Massachusetts Avenue and pulled over.