she was settling in for the next six months. “Oh?”
Ramona continued walking as if she was oblivious to the fact that he had stopped. “The way I see it, the institute is in a precarious state, like a forest in the middle of a really hot summer. There are bound to be fires. It’s my job to put those fires out.”
He resumed walking. “And what if there are no fires?” he challenged.
“Then I’ll have a very stress-free job.” She slanted a look at him, more than a hint of a smile on her lips. “But do you really think that will be the case?”
He didn’t want to dwell on “fires” or public relations or baseless rumors that were running amok. He just wanted to do his job. “All I want to do is help couples have the families they’ve always wanted.”
She wanted to believe him, to believe that even in this modern, fast-paced world there were still people who wanted to do decent things out of the goodness of their heart. But until she disproved those rumors that she’d come to investigate, she couldn’t allow herself to be taken in by the innocent look in his eyes.
“I understand, Dr. Armstrong, but things are never as simple as we’d like them to be. It’s my job to make sure that you can do yours without being hampered by innuendo or, more important, lawsuits,” she told him, deliberately presenting him with a cheerful demeanor. “Public opinion can either be a wonderful tool, or a weapon.”
He stopped right in front of the lab. “How old are you?”
“Old enough to be good at what I do.” It sounded like an evasive answer, but she didn’t want to give him a direct answer. She knew that Armstrong was thirty-six and to him, she undoubtedly looked as if she was just out of elementary school.
“I was only thinking that you seemed awfully young to sound so cynical.”
She didn’t think of herself as cynical, but she let it go. Instead, she said, “These days, cynicism is built into the DNA.”
With a sigh, Paul shook his head and then pushed open the door to their state-of-the-art lab. He was proud of the equipment, proud of all the advances they’d made in the field because they were able to afford the kind of cutting-edge research to be done here.
Holding the door, he allowed her to walk in ahead of him.
Like the conference room, the lab was one large room. Unlike the conference room, it had two tables instead of one. The tables were waist high, equipped with sinks and a number of microscopes that were hooked up to projection screens and computers. There were several people in the lab at the moment, all dressed in white coats.
She’d heard as well as read a great deal about the newly transplanted research team of Bonner and Demetrios before she ever came to the institute. Consequently, she knew them on sight.
Only Ted Bonner was present at the moment. Chance Demetrios had an office in the building. Her guess was that he was probably there now.
Bonner did strictly research. He had the luxury of divorcing himself from the people who ultimately made use of the end product of his research via one of the doctors on the staff. This allowed him to throw himself wholeheartedly into his work. His failures had no faces on them, but then, neither did his successes.
She heard Paul take in a breath, as if he was bracing himself for some kind of ordeal. The next moment, she realized that she was the ordeal.
“Dr. Bonner,” he addressed the exceedingly tall, exceedingly good-looking dark-haired man who was about to bend over to look into one of the microscopes, “I would like to introduce you to Ramona Tate. She’s our new public-relations manager.”
Shaking her hand, Ted quipped, “I didn’t know you had an old public-relations manager.”
“We didn’t,” Paul answered before he realized that Ted was joking. “This is my brother’s idea. He thinks we need protecting.” He flashed a semiapologetic smile toward Ramona.
Thinking to spare him, she made no comment. She was getting a great many mixed signals from this man and decided it was better to pretend to be oblivious to all of them.
She turned her attention to the man who was still holding her hand enveloped in his. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Bonner. Would you mind if I got back to you later sometime? I’d like to ask you a few questions if I may.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Ted assured her. “Anything I can answer now?”
She slanted a glance toward Paul. “No,” she assured Ted. “Not now.”
“Then I’ll get back to work,” he said, releasing her hand.
“What do you want to talk to him about?” Paul asked her the moment they walked out of the lab. He didn’t bother to try to hide the suspicious look on his face. What was she up to? he wondered. Were all these questions normal? Was he so out of touch with the way things worked outside his small sphere?
She was ready for him. “Well, for one thing, I want to know what enticed Dr. Bonner and his partner to come here to do their research.”
They walked down the corridor, each with a different destination in mind. He to his other office and she back to hers. But for now, they walked together.
“The lab they came from wasn’t exactly third rate or shabby by any means,” Ramona continued. “And there’s a certain amount of inherent prestige being associated with a teaching hospital–slash–college the caliber of the one they came from.” She stopped walking. He stopped a second after that and looked at her, waiting. “Did you offer them more money?”
He made no answer, trying to gauge what, if anything, he should say. Maybe, if he just waited long enough, she’d go away. Silence ricocheted between them.
Ramona pressed her lips together. “Dr. Armstrong, you need to talk to me if I’m to do my job and do you any good.”
“It was a little more money,” Paul finally admitted to her.
The inflection in his voice told her there was more. “And?”
Paul drew himself up. It was a purely defensive move. Knights running to man the castle parapets. “And I gave them carte blanche.” He shrugged carelessly. “I thought that having them here would negate any bad publicity that might have cropped up.”
“Aggressively heading that publicity off at the pass accomplishes that,” Ramona pointed out. “For starters, I need to get that press release—released,” she concluded, humor curving her generous mouth.
He glanced at his watch, blinking once to focus in on it better. “I have a procedure to get to,” he reminded her—and himself.
“Then I should get out of your way,” Ramona responded amiably. “Thanks for the tour,” she added.
As far as it went, Ramona added silently. She noticed that the good doctor had conspicuously left out the basement with its archives. But she wasn’t put off. She was confident that she’d find a way to get into that one way or another. Ramona had a very strong feeling that was where she’d find what she was really looking for.
At least, she sincerely hoped so.
