Where Rivers Part (15 page)

 22 

J
uliet returned from lunch to find Cyril Montavan exiting a cab. He saw her about the same time and waved as she neared. Despite the news he'd recently learned, he continued to wear a warm smile.

“Good to see you again,” Juliet greeted him, extending her hand.

He draped his folded overcoat over one arm and shook. “Likewise, Dr. Ryan.” He gave her a sideways look, and she couldn't help but admire his tanned skin and the way the sun created hints of midnight blue in the black color of his hair.

She smiled. “Please, call me Juliet.” She led him inside, glad for the air conditioning. “Where are you staying?”

“The Mokira,” he answered. “It's a lovely establishment, and the service is impeccable. The feel of the lobby reminds me of my favorite hotel in Turin.”

“I've never been to Italy,” Juliet admitted, stopping at the receptionist desk for messages. “But I'd like to go someday. If things at work ever settle down, that is.”

Greer sauntered across the lobby. “You'd like to go where?” he asked with a hand extended in Cyril's direction, not bothering to look at her.

Cyril shook Greer's hand. “Perhaps the entire Larimar team could make a visit to our headquarters in Italy at some point.” He turned back to Juliet, a slight smile nipping at the corners of his mouth. “I'd love to show you around.”

Greer's eyes narrowed. No doubt he'd caught not only Cyril's charming way of emphasizing the wrong syllable but the way the company's benefactor had directed his attention at her.

“Alexa and the team are assembled in the conference room.” Greer thrust a piece of paper in her direction. “Juliet, could you find someone to place this dinner order and have our food delivered by six o'clock?” He placed his hand on Cyril's back as if to lead him away. “I'm afraid we're looking at a long night ahead.”

Juliet didn't take the offered piece of paper. “I'm sorry. On the way back to the office, I got a couple of critical email alerts regarding the outbreak. I'd hate to delay passing this important information on to the team.” Her eyes narrowed. “Perhaps the receptionist would be willing to help you with your dinner order.”

If Cyril Montavan caught the shots she and Greer volleyed in the lobby, and their verbal tête-à-tête, he didn't let on. Regardless, Juliet knew these early exchanges with Greer were critical. She'd have to hold her own with him now or forever acquiesce to his demeaning actions, which were really a poorly hidden attempt to assuage his wounded pride and settle the score.

He frowned and dropped his hand. “I thought you reported there wouldn't be any new developments for forty-eight hours or so?”

“That's what the CDC announced at the meeting, but several of us in the food science industry are part of a special group. We get far more access to inside information than is typically released to the public.”

Cyril nodded his approval. “An inner circle?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, hoping their investment partner was impressed.

Greer's neatly manicured nails flicked at the sleeve of his custom suit jacket, as if he were more interested in some imaginary lint than her connections with the CDC.

Clearly, she'd encountered the downside of ending her personal relationship with a vice president of this company. Juliet would have to maneuver carefully to minimize future risk. But she most certainly wasn't going to allow Greer to subordinate her in front of Cyril Montavan. Greer's influence with Alexa Carmichael did not alter the fact that Juliet also reported directly to the CEO of this company, even if she didn't yet have the VP title he enjoyed.

Alexa immediately stood when Juliet and Cyril entered the conference room, leaving Greer back in the lobby explaining the food order to Lindsay. “There you are! Much earlier than I expected. I hope your flight was comfortable.” She moved and shook his hand. “Please, have a seat. I'm sure you have questions, and we're anxious to bring you up to date.”

After reacquainting him with the executive team sitting around the table, Alexa looked to Juliet. “Anything new?”

Juliet nodded as Greer reappeared and took his seat across from her. “About two hours ago, another case was confirmed. This time outside the San Antonio area. Officials are on their way to Corpus Christi to conduct interviews with the patient's family and the medical professionals in charge.”

Fred Macklin looked up from his stacks of spreadsheets. “Does that mean a delayed reopening of the park?”

Juliet took a deep breath. “Possibly. On the other hand, depending on what officials discover, a slight potential could formulate for an alternative source.”

Alexa raised her eyebrows. “You mean, Water Circus would be off the hook?”

Juliet nodded. “I'm answering with caution here. But yes. There could be a scenario where the health officials determine the com
mon factor is not connected to Water Circus. But again, I would not predict that as a strong possibility.”

Alexa's face brightened. “Well, that's certainly welcome news, even if only a slight possibility. Especially if the close order gets lifted sooner than later.”

Cyril Montavan was watching Juliet. She liked the idea that he and Alexa were focusing on her to collect and disseminate information critical to the operation of the company. “I've also confirmed that Tavina's little boy has not worsened since early this morning,” she added, aware their attention could never be comparable to more serious matters at hand.

Dale Frissom leaned back in his chair. “That's even better news.”

Alexa agreed. “It's hard to believe such a common bacteria can wreak such havoc.” Her boss's gaze quickly darted to Greer before returning to Juliet. “Dr. Ryan, the team appreciates the update. Now that Cyril is here, we'll focus our efforts on what all this means to the company P&Ls and develop a financial strategy going forward.”

Greer nodded. “I told everyone how busy you are with the outbreak issue. There's no reason you have to stay for the remainder of the meeting.”

His proposed exclusion stung. Moments ago, the people in this room had hung on her every word. Now, he was trying to have her dismissed as if she wasn't an essential member of the executive team. Worse, from the look on Alexa's face, she was buying in.

“Actually,” Juliet ventured before she could lose her nerve, “with the slowed production, my department is ahead of the game at this point. I'd prefer to stay.” She glared at Greer, who now seemed to believe she was a lesser planet in his orbit.

Cyril lifted his briefcase to the table and clicked it open. “I'd like Dr. Ryan included in our discussions. Given what's developed here lately, and the vulnerability this outbreak has imposed on
this company's bottom line, I strongly urge even more emphasis be placed on the quality control functions led by Dr. Ryan. She's obviously done a superb job orchestrating the information flow between the health officials and our team, and because of her careful attention to needed testing, this company's interests have been well protected.” He pulled a set of documents from his briefcase. “I looked over the revised financials. The budget reflects elimination of a line item I believe was recommended by Dr. Ryan.”

Alexa stiffened. “The equipment requested was simply put on hold, not eliminated. Profit margins are often maintained by juggling priorities . . . temporarily.”

Greer moved into a seat near the head of the table and inserted himself back into the discussion. “Alexa guided our effort to revise the budget to bare bones when revenues did not support sizeable expenditures. A necessary maneuver given that so much was out of her control. I'm sure even Dr. Ryan wouldn't argue that point.”

Juliet held her breath, knowing the budget cut predated the outbreak. Clearly, Alexa Carmichael was not used to anyone questioning her judgment, not even someone of Cyril Montavan's stature, and Greer was using this opportunity to show his support for her and bring Juliet down a notch. Regardless, Juliet appreciated Cyril Montavan's advocacy and knew exactly how she needed to respond.

“Mr. Montavan, thank you for your recognition of my department's contributions. One of my most important considerations before I came on board here at Larimar Springs was whether or not food safety would be a number one priority.” Juliet took a calculated pause to emphasize what she was about to say. “I have found this company, and particularly Alexa Carmichael, completely genuine in their commitment to these very important issues. When she was forced to revise the company budget, Alexa personally assured me the thermal cycler would be purchased at the earliest possible occasion.”

The woman sitting at the head of the table, in a gray sheath dress and pearls, noticeably relaxed upon hearing Juliet's remarks. No doubt Juliet had scored points.

Greer's face, on the other hand, paled like sour cream. She'd stolen his thunder.

Hopefully, by not throwing Alexa under the bus, Juliet had established credibility as a professional in all their eyes. The choleric vice president of marketing and sales sitting across the table would have to reassess his scraped ego and his need to vent at her expense, or risk diminishing his own stature in the group.

Sometimes, the best way to keep a bad pimple from festering was just to pop it.

Over the next four hours, she joined the team huddled together over the table, working and reworking the income projections for the coming months. During a quick break, Cyril Montavan joined her at the coffee service. He leaned close and confided with a low voice, “Your response to my budget observation was impressive.”

Juliet popped a K-Cup into the Keurig machine and pressed the button. “I'm sorry?”

He smiled. “A true leader always supports her team.” He turned the storage carousel and selected a tiny container of dark French roast. “I'm serious about you coming to Italy. In addition to your duties here at Larimar Springs, perhaps you'd consider consulting for several of our other enterprises. Food safety is as important in Europe as it is in the United States.”

She blushed at the compliment. “Thank you, Mr. Montavan. I appreciate that.”

“Cyril,” he corrected.

Juliet nodded. “Cyril.” She smiled. “I'd very much like to consider your offer at some point. Perhaps when all this has settled down.” In her pocket, her iPhone buzzed. “Uh, sorry—would you excuse me, please?”

“Of course.” He stepped back to allow her freedom to move toward the door while she picked up.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Juliet Ryan?”

She frowned, trying to place the voice. “Yes, this is Dr. Ryan.”

“Dr. Henry Breslin with the Centers for Disease Control. I'm afraid I have bad news.”

 23 

J
uliet hung up and tried to breathe. She stood in the lobby with the phone in her hand, frozen, while the memory of Dr. Breslin's words churned in her mind, a riptide of cold, dark water threatening to suck her under.

“Our trace-back investigation has concluded. Granted, earlier than anticipated. But team epidemiologists reported less than an hour ago that cultures from Larimar Springs bottled water have confirmed presence of Shiga toxin–producing Escherichia coli. The clinical specimens were subtyped and are consistent with O157:H7.”

Juliet's arm flesh turned cold. Her neck flushed hot.

How could that
possibly be?

For the first time in her life, she thought she might pass out.

Juliet looked across the lobby to see the receptionist barreling toward her.

“Dr. Ryan? Are you all right?” The receptionist rushed to her side and wrapped her arm around Juliet's shoulder and pressed her into an armchair. “Would you like something to drink?”

Juliet focused on the company logo mounted on the wall. “No, I'm fine. I—I just felt a little lightheaded, that's all. I—I'm okay now.” She stood despite her shaking legs and the look of worry on her co-worker's face.

Her entire professional life had been devoted to food safety. How could Dr. Breslin's report possibly be true?

Years of higher education and the recommendations of every respected food safety source available had been incorporated into Juliet's protocols. She'd monitored regularly—personally.

Yet multitudes had fallen ill. Three little ones had even died.

Under
her
watch.

An image of Tavina's anguished face formed in Juliet's mind. Her treasured assistant was going through hell on earth—because Juliet had failed.

She'd failed.

She glanced at her watch through tear-filled eyes. In less than an hour, the health investigation team would march through the front doors with briefcases and comminute the company brand and the reputation of every person in that conference room. All because Juliet had missed something so critical.

Thankfully, Dr. Breslin promised to keep the findings quiet until after he'd met with Juliet in person. Right now, before his team stormed the lobby, Juliet needed to tell Alexa and the others.

With trembling fingers, she pressed her phone into her jacket pocket and headed back down the hall. With each step, the notion she had to drop a bomb of this magnitude left her pulverized. The rumble of devastation would reverberate through this company for years to come, if Larimar Springs even survived the blast.

When Juliet entered the conference room again, the team members were already seated and talking.

Alexa Carmichael was in her place at the head of the table. Less than ten years ago, she'd left a lucrative marketing career in Houston to purchase a feeble bottled water company about ready to close its doors. Under her tutelage, Larimar Springs turned a profit three years later and had been expanding each subsequent year, making her one of the most respected businesswomen in the state of Texas.

Fred Macklin had spent nearly his entire career here. First for the family that started Larimar Springs, and then as chief financial officer for Alexa. He was scheduled to retire soon, with plans to tour Europe with his wife of forty years.

To Alexa's right sat the vice president of operations, Dale Frissom. On several occasions, he'd proudly shared he was financially supporting his only daughter through medical school. She wanted to specialize in oncology, to fight the terrible disease that had taken her mother two years ago.

Cyril had his head buried in a stack of pro formas. He'd been extraordinarily gracious about recent developments, given his investment in Larimar Springs. He trusted her.

And finally—Greer. She'd never known a man so entirely wrapped up in his career, which had made him the perfect match for Juliet for so long. She'd never felt the need to justify her priorities with him.

Could she even muster the necessary courage?

With her stomach cinched and bile bitter on the back of her tongue, Juliet cleared her throat. “Excuse me, could I have everyone's attention?”

She wished her soul was stronger, but with every word, a little piece of her insides died. She alerted everyone in the room to the call she'd just received from Dr. Breslin and carefully explained the team's discovery. By the time she finished, her face felt hot, despite the chill that had descended over the room.

“I'm—sorry,” she said quietly.

She could tell from the looks on their faces, frosted with panic, what her gut had already revealed. With this mistake, her heels had slipped off the corporate ladder. For good.

In years to come, Juliet would remember this day.

The day her career ended.