with Dr. Bridgeman, then get off my set!”
Sarah’s eyes popped open. This woman had obviously not done her homework or she would have known better than to spout off like that. Or would she? Somehow, Sarah doubted that Maven Jenson, investigative reporter and national celebrity, would care if she were talking to the queen of the universe. Sarah sat back and watched the snarky stage producer confirm her conclusion when he leaned down to whisper in Maven’s ear.
“I don’t care if she’s the ruler of damned China. Tell her to get her ass over here and ready. Cameras roll in under a minute, and I won’t have some idiot ruining my show.”
Sarah may have been many things, but an idiot was most assuredly not one of them. Taller and thinner than she’d like, sure. Maybe a little more socially awkward than she cared for. But an idiot? Idiots didn’t graduate with honors from Columbia, UNC-Chapel Hill and do residencies at Johns Hopkins, nor did they make incredible medical breakthroughs that could save the lives of hundreds of thousands of people. She took in a few more deep, cleansing breaths to steady her nerves and try to control her blood pressure. With a smile more fake than most of the breasts in Los Angeles, she sat down on the couch next to the desk.
Maven began waving away the powder cronies. Once they had all scurried off, Maven looked Sarah up and down, eyeing her like prey.
“I thought you were supposed to be a man. I was told a man was coming.” Aha! Suddenly, everything about the treatment she’d received since making her across-town trip to the studio made perfect sense. Her research partner, Nick, was originally supposed to play the media darling for the hospital system’s major breakthrough. Unfortunately, Nick was in no state to make the rounds because he was dealing with a bad reaction from new medication. Poor guy. He was living proof that good looks and success didn’t prevent people from contracting life-threatening diseases. Of course, she wasn’t about to tell Maven that.
“I believe,” Sarah began as she cleared her throat, “that you are referring to Dr. Patton. He is my research partner. There was a scheduling conflict. I’m so sorry he couldn’t make it.”
“Yeah,” Maven huffed and waved her hand. “Me, too. So here’s the deal: you just answer everything I ask you, okay? And keep your answers simple. I know you’re here for some big medical deal, but try not to take up too much of my time, okay? Nobody is watching for you, honey. And we’re live, so try not to say anything stupid.”
“Thirty seconds, Maven.”
Sarah took in a long, sobering breath as she watched the woman fix her lipstick and fluff her hair. She practiced a smile that spread across her face so wide, the Joker would have been proud. An instant flash of blinding light came on, and a series of
beeps
sounded around them.
This is it. You can do this
.
Maven started her intro, seamlessly spouting out everything that was on the teleprompter in front of them. Sarah read along with her, trying not to lose focus. When the print at the bottom of the black screen read “Cut to Guest,” she sat up straight in her chair and looked at Maven.
“Dr. Bridgeman, thank you for joining me this evening.”
Sarah cleared her throat. “Thank you very much for having me.”
“Now, Dr. Bridgeman,” Maven looked down at the blue cards on her desk, “you are the lead researcher on what has been called the Chimera Project. Can you tell us more about that?”
“Sure.” Sarah leaned forward to take a long sip of the novelty-mug water. “The Chimera Project started in an effort to find replacement therapies for organ transplant patients.”
“Fascinating.” Maven flipped to another card. “Now, you and your research partner have been working on this project for how long exactly?”
“We have been working on it for a little over three years now.”
“I see.” Another card was flipped. “And how long have