Mutation

“I can make your life just as miserable as you’re making mine,” Ronald snapped. “If you continue to press me to sell more stock, I promise I’ll get even with you.”

“Please!” Victor said, backing up. “Ronald, when you wake up, call me. I’m not going to stand here and be threatened.”

Victor turned and left the office. He could hear Ronald start to say something else, but Victor didn’t stop to hear it. He was disgusted. For a moment he considered throwing in the towel, cashing in his stock, and going back to academia.

But by the time he got back to his desk, he felt differently.

He wasn’t about to let Ronald’s personality problems deny him access to the excitement of the biotechnology industry. After all, there were limitations in academia as well; they were just of a different sort.

Staring up at Victor from his desk blotter was the telephone number for Jonathan Marronetti, Gephardt’s attorney. Resigned, Victor dialed the number and got the lawyer on the phone. The man had a distinctive New York accent that grated on Victor’s nerves.

“Got good news for you people,” Jonathan said.

“We can use some,” Victor said.

“My client, Mr. Gephardt, is willing to return all the funds that mysteriously ended up in his checking account, plus interest. This is not to imply guilt; he just wants the matter to be closed.”

“I will discuss the offer with our attorneys,” Victor said.

“Wait, there’s more,” Jonathan said. “In return for transferring these funds, my client wants to be reinstated, and he wants all further harassment ceased, including any current investigation of his affairs.”

“That’s out of the question,” Victor said. “Mr. Gephardt can hardly expect reinstatement without our completing the investigation.”

“Well,” Jonathan said, pausing, “I suppose I can reason with my client and talk him out of the reinstatement proviso.”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t make much difference,” Victor said.

“Listen, we’re trying to be reasonable.”

“The investigation will proceed as scheduled,” Victor said.

“I’m sure there is some way—” Jonathan began.

“I’m sorry,” Victor interrupted. “When we have all the facts, we can talk again.”

“If you’re not willing to be reasonable,” Jonathan said,

“I’ll be forced to take action you may regret. You are hardly in a position to play holier than thou.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Marronetti,” Victor said, slamming down the phone.

Slumping back in his chair, Victor buzzed Colleen and told her to send in the Carver woman. Even though he was familiar with the case, he opened up her folder. She’d been a problem practically from the first day on the job. She had been undependable, with frequent absences. The folder contained five letters from various people complaining about her poor performance.

Victor looked up. Sharon Carver came into the room wearing a skin-tight mini with a silk top. She oozed into the chair opposite Victor, showing a lot of leg.

“Thank you for seeing me,” she whispered.

Victor glanced at the Polaroid shot in her file. She’d been dressed in baggy jeans and a flannel shirt.

“What can I do for you?” Victor asked, looking her directly in the eye.

“I’m sure you could do a lot of things,” Sharon said coyly. “But what I’m most interested in right now is having my job back. I want to be rehired.”

“That’s not possible,” Victor said.

“I believe it is,” Sharon persisted.

“Miss Carver,” Victor began, “I must remind you that you were fired for failing to perform your job.”

“How come the man I was with when we were caught in the stockroom wasn’t fired?” Sharon asked, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward defiantly. “Answer me that!”

“Your amorous activities on your last day were not the sole basis for your termination,” Victor explained. “If that had been the only problem, you would not have been fired. And the man you mentioned had never neglected his responsibilities. Even on the day in question he was on his official break. You were not. At any rate, what is done is done. I’m confident you will find employment elsewhere, so if you will excuse me . . .” Victor rose from his seat and motioned toward the door.

Sharon Carver did not move. She looked up at Victor with cold eyes. “If you refuse to give me my job back I’ll serve you with a sex-discrimination suit that will make your head spin. I’ll make you suffer.”

“You’re already doing a pretty good job,” Victor said.

“Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Like a cat about to attack, Sharon rose slowly from the chair, glaring at Victor out of the corner of her eye.

“You’ve not seen the last of me!” she spat.

Victor waited until the door closed before buzzing Colleen to tell her that he was heading over to his lab and that she shouldn’t call him for anybody less than the Pope.

“Too late,” said Colleen. “Dr. Hurst is in the waiting room. He wants to see you and he’s quite upset.”