Chapter 2: She Came Back in Blue

At 3:30 p.m., the Regulatory Affairs meeting is still running.

“The Phase 3 report for JS-01 is complete,” the department head says. “The remaining follow-up data will be finalized by Friday, and the NDA will be ready for submission next week. Production validation is complete as well. All three batches passed.”

Adrian pauses on one page of the report. “Check the serious adverse event data against the site records one more time.”

“I’ll have the team review it and send you the results tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good. That’s all.”

The man gathers his papers and leaves.

Adrian reaches for the coffee Evan brought him just as someone knocks.

His secretary opens the door. “Mr. Mercer, a representative from TÉRA is here. He’d like to deliver a gift for tonight’s benefit in person.”

Adrian checks his watch. “Send him in.”

The representative is in his forties. After a polite greeting, he sets a long gift box on Adrian’s desk.

“TÉRA created this tie especially for tonight’s event. We hope you’ll accept it, Mr. Mercer. Of course, we’d be delighted if you chose to wear it.”

Inside is a mist-blue silk tie.

Fine silver threads run through the fabric, forming half a rose whenever the light catches them.

“Mira selected the color and designed the pattern herself,” the man adds. “She thought you might like it.”

Adrian gives the tie another look.

They have clearly done their research. Everyone close to him knows he has a fondness for roses.

Unfortunately, he rarely wears a tie unless the occasion requires one, and his formal clothes are coordinated in advance.

There is no woman at home fussing over what he should wear.

Adrian certainly does not care enough to do it himself.

“Keep it,” he tells Evan.

The representative understands.

The gift has been accepted; whether Adrian wears it is another matter.

It is still more consideration than most people receive from him.

The man thanks him and leaves without pressing his luck.

---

At seven that evening, a black Bentley stops outside the Aster Hotel.

Adrian steps out in a black suit cut clean across his shoulders, his shirt buttoned neatly to the collar.

The dark navy tie at his throat is the one his stylist chose.

Cameras swing toward him.

When the flashes grow too bright, Adrian raises a hand to shield his eyes, bringing his wedding ring into full view.

Evan does not need to see tomorrow’s headlines to know the rumors about Adrian’s secret marriage will make another appearance.

Adrian seldom attends social events, so the financial press has turned out in force.

News that JS-01 is close to an FDA submission has already spread. Mercer Biotech has also secured zoning approval for a new life sciences campus in New Jersey and is seeking strategic partners for the project.

The questions begin before he reaches the entrance.

“Mr. Mercer, have you chosen a commercialization partner for JS-01?”

“When will construction begin on the New Jersey campus?”

Adrian pauses long enough for the cameras, answers none of the questions, and follows the event organizer inside.

The ballroom is full of champagne, careful smiles, and people waiting for a chance to hand him a business card.

Adrian speaks when courtesy requires it and accepts a glass from a familiar investor.

He has never liked rooms like this.

Five years ago, at another crowded ballroom, he and Rosalie were supposed to announce their engagement.

The party ended before they could.

Since then, crystal chandeliers and towers of champagne have always taken him back to that night.

This benefit is the exception.

Adrian was sixteen when his mother died of leukemia. He could do nothing but watch her grow weaker.

Years later, he created the Mercer Foundation to support patients and fund leukemia research.

No matter how crowded his calendar becomes, he attends this event every year.

His seat is at the main table near the stage. The organizer is leading him across the ballroom when Adrian stops without warning.

A woman stands several yards away.

Her gown is mist blue, its matte fabric falling in clean lines from her bare shoulders.

Her long curls are pinned high, without so much as a loose strand at her temple.

She holds a champagne flute and is speaking to someone beside her. Whatever the other person says makes her smile.

As she turns, the light from the chandelier catches her profile.

Five years have changed the way she carries herself.

She looks polished now, almost untouchable. Then she tilts her head to listen, and the familiar gesture cuts straight through him.

Adrian forgets to breathe.

His fingers tighten around the stem of his glass before he catches himself.

The organizer is still talking. Someone passing by greets him, but Adrian hears none of it.

His gaze moves slowly from the woman’s face to her dress.

Mist blue.

The exact color of the tie delivered to his office that afternoon.

So she is Mira.

The tie was for him.

Five years away, and she still wants them in matching colors.

Is she really that sure he’ll do as he’s told?

Adrian takes a slow drink of champagne. The corner of his mouth lifts before he can stop it.

He pulls out his phone and calls Evan.

“Bring me the mist-blue tie from this afternoon.”

Evan goes quiet for a second. “It won’t work with the black suit. Should I bring the charcoal one too?”

“Yes.”