Nano (26 page)

“I talked to Jason Rodriguez. He was my colleague. And I thought he was my friend, but obviously I was mistaken.”

“Pia, I am the best friend you have right now, believe me. Mariel Spallek wanted to—”

“Wanted to what?”

“Pia, please calm down. And sit down.” Pia had gotten up from the couch and was pacing around the room, furious with Berman’s calm and calculated indictments. The camera was dangling from its strap over her shoulder, forgotten.

“Listen. Look at it from my point of view, from Nano’s point of view. All of this behavior I have just outlined, which started, by the way, because of your unfortunate discovery of a Nano jogger who had been in momentary distress.”

“Momentary distress! The man was in cardiac arrest when I came upon him.”

“Impossible. The man is perfectly fine, I’m happy to report, and back to full participation in his duties here at Nano. You were mistaken about his condition, I assure you. And you were specifically asked to forget about the incident. Obviously you didn’t take that advice. I’m sorry, Pia. Yes, you have been a good worker and have definitely contributed to Nano’s primary project as well as everything else that is being done to support it. But you haven’t been cooperative, especially with your outrageous suggestions that Nano had something to do with your unfortunate accident while recklessly speeding. And now, on top of all that, I have you on security tape, showing up at my home uninvited, making lewd gestures.”

“Oh, come on. That was purely out of frustration. Childish, maybe, but certainly understandable.”

“I’m not convinced everyone would find your behavior understandable. That doesn’t sound like much of a defense to me.”

Pia sat down, deflated, and bit her lip. What now? “So you told people not to call me back?”

“Mariel insisted that I terminate your employment, although she’s not really in a position to insist, but I preferred to leave a door open. I was going to request the medical letter that had been asked for, stating you had totally recovered, and then talk to you myself. But you’ve jumped the gun, and here we are.”

“And what were you going to talk to me about?”

“I thought we could have an adult conversation, man to woman.”

Berman winked and smiled again, reminding Pia what kind of an individual she was dealing with. She looked off, tempted to flee, but remained seated. He had said man to woman, not CEO to employee, which said it all.

“I had in mind a conversation like we are having now,” Berman continued after taking a sip of his drink. “What I am hoping is that you will see fit to change from a kind of dangerous maverick and security risk into a team player. Personally I’d like to keep you aboard.”

“What’s going on at Nano?” Pia blurted. “Who are these runners and cyclists who are falling down in the road and appear to be dead? Why can’t I get past those double doors on the fourth floor? That’s the adult conversation I want to have.”

“Oh, Pia. Nothing’s happening at Nano that isn’t happening at the top nanotechnology research facilities all around the world. It would be naive to think otherwise. We’re all pushing the envelope. What’s different is that we have a small jump on the competition because of our lead in molecular manufacturing. We’ve been able to move from theory to reality with nanorobots. But we have to be discreet, as I said, because the competition could catch up to us in a heartbeat. We have tried to patent our breakthroughs with molecular manufacturing, but it is difficult. It is based on the way ribosomes of living cells function, which the good Lord has ingeniously devised. As it is in the public realm, we can’t totally protect it, although we have certainly tried.”

“I’m sorry, but I need to know more. I need to be sure these people are not being abused.”

“Oh, Pia!” Berman repeated, as if talking to a child. “No one is being abused, trust me. Everything is totally voluntary. We rely on employing talented people who are content to work in their area and not concern themselves with . . . other matters. We call it compartmentalization. There are only a very few who know everything. As I said, I want to keep you around, but if you feel you need to know what’s going on behind every door in the whole place, I don’t think it’s going to work. We’ll come to an agreement on a settlement of your contract, a very generous settlement. Of course there will be some restrictions on your being able to work for another nanotechnology company for a reasonable period of time. You don’t know everything going on at Nano, but you know enough about our most important project. Leaving Nano will give you a chance to finish your medical training somewhere else.”

Berman took a healthy draft of his scotch, finishing the glass. It was his first of the day, so he wasn’t concerned. He played his hand pretty much the same way with Whitney way back when, and now it was time for what he had said to sink into Pia’s brain.

He stood and walked to the den, only to quickly emerge, stirring a fresh drink. He looked at Pia, and within, his ardor was unrestrained. Berman knew he shouldn’t be talking to Pia at all. Mariel was right—Pia was very intelligent, very nosy, very persistent, and very dangerous. Berman knew he couldn’t trust Pia, but he couldn’t abide the idea of losing her, whether by firing her or by some more drastic arrangement that would scare her off completely. He wanted to have her, to possess her until he tired of her. He was a man used to succeeding in all areas of his life, and vain enough to think he could have what he wanted. And he wanted Pia with all his damaged soul. He thought he was making progress, but she hadn’t budged. She was still sitting on his couch, looking sexier than ever, despite the cast and the sling. He wanted to see her dance again and then have wild sex. His imagination led him off to that wonderful place.

On her part, Pia was pretty sure she had Berman figured out. He was rich and sophisticated, as if that made a difference, and he controlled a large and apparently thriving company that had some curious relationship with the Chinese, probably for capital in exchange for proprietary secrets. Nano had its share of secrets, and she knew China was sitting on an ungodly amount of foreign exchange. He obviously thought he was special and entitled, and could engage in these games with her as he probably had with many women. He had all but admitted there was something going on at Nano that she shouldn’t know about. No, he
had
admitted it, but there he was, smiling smugly, lounging in his chair as if he were the king of the world. And behind that facade was just another horny guy hoping to get lucky.

In her relatively short life, Pia had had experience with plenty of men like him. Men obsessed with their own power who wanted to possess her in some way, even when they knew they shouldn’t, either because they were in a position of trust and responsibility over her, or were her boss, as in this case, or, in the worst instance of all, related to her. Pia saw Berman as just another predator who wanted to misuse his power and have his way. Although she knew she was playing a dangerous game, she was intent to turn the tables to get what she wanted without succumbing to him.

41.

ZACH BERMAN’S HOUSE, BOULDER, COLORADO

SUNDAY, JULY 21, 2013, 10:22
P.M.

“How about a little more of the Pinot Grigio,” Pia said, extending her empty glass in Berman’s direction. They’d left the question of her future hanging. When Berman had disappeared into the den, Pia got rid of her glass of wine in the same manner she had with the scotch the last time she’d been to Berman’s house: under the furniture. She wanted to play the tipsy role and thought it would be more convincing.

“Absolutely,” Berman said, pleased with the request. Perhaps Pia was relenting. He got up with the bottle and filled her glass. As he finished topping it off, he smiled and Pia smiled back. After making it look as if she had taken a sizable drink of wine, Pia set her glass down on the cocktail napkin. She then hefted the camera and took off the lens cap. She stood up and pretended to have trouble with her balance.

Berman watched her antics with a slight smile but then his brows knit as she brought the single-lens reflex camera up to her face, peering through the viewfinder and aiming directly at him.

“Wait a second!” Berman said, reaching out with his hand and extending it toward the camera. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve been taking pictures all afternoon,” Pia explained with a giggle. “I wanted to take a few more. I want to take some of you.”

“Why?” Berman questioned. The fact of the matter was that he had a reflex aversion to being photographed. He’d been burned before by overzealous paparazzi. Cameras made him leery.

“You’re a handsome man,” Pia said.

“I don’t like cameras.”

“Oh, come on! Relax!” Pia lifted the camera back in position for her to see through the view finder. Berman’s hand stayed in the middle of her field of vision. She lowered the camera. “Hey, it’s digital. If you don’t like it, it can be erased.”

“Maybe later,” Berman said. “Maybe we can take some photos of each other.”

“Just a couple?”

“No! Sit down. Let’s talk about your settlement.”

Pia settled back into the couch, placing the camera next to her. The charade was going to have to be extended.

“Okay,” Berman said, visibly relaxing. “Here’s what I propose.” He went on to outline the terms of a settlement for Pia, and it was very generous indeed. As he kept talking, Pia became confused.

“Wait, are you offering me a job?”

“Yes, it’s a personal services contract, not with Nano but with me directly. Rather like the one Miss Jones signed when she started working for me. And she is, as you know, a very valued and well-compensated employee.”

“You mentioned confidentiality agreements.”

“Yes, of course. They’re an integral part of the negotiation. You need to sign a confidentiality agreement that covers the nature of this conversation.”

“You mean before we negotiate the details of the job.”

“Yes, it’s standard for top-level employees who work directly with me. And extremely watertight. I have one here for you to sign, as well as a contract.”

“You have one ready for me?” Pia had noticed that when Berman had emerged from the den with his refreshed drink, he had been carrying several sheets of paper.

“Not exactly. As I said, it’s standard. It’s what I had drawn up for Whitney.”

“Wait, you’re going much too fast. What would I be doing for you?”

“Well, that would remain to be arranged. With certain employees, I prefer to secure their services under contract and then find the niche that they fit into. I know you will be a valued member of my staff, because of your scientific expertise and your other . . . talents.”

“And what might those be?”

“I said that the lab might not be the best place for you to work, but I want to keep you around. I’d like to have you here and with me on some of my travels. You’re very intelligent and perceptive and persuasive, and frankly I’d much rather have you working for me than against me. You’d be a great asset. Also I am very attracted to you, Pia. I think that is rather obvious, especially after that regrettable episode on your doorstep.”

“So you want to get me under contract. How romantic.”

“Come on, Pia, you came here voluntarily after nine o’clock at night. What was your idea for this evening? What did you think we were going to talk about? Or do? We’re healthy adults.”

Berman was speaking softly, leaning forward so that he was very close to Pia, who was sitting catty-corner on the couch.

Throwing caution to the wind, Pia stood and went to sit on the arm of Berman’s chair and draped an arm over his shoulder. She put her mouth close to his ear and whispered.

“Just tell me you had nothing to do with my accident.”

Berman tilted his head up and said softly, “I swear.”

“You’re a liar,” Pia said abruptly, and gave Berman a sharp jab in the kidney with the arm she had had over his shoulder. She stood up and ran around the other side of the glass coffee table as Berman came after her.

“Come here you, little bitch,” he roared. He was smiling broadly, enjoying the chase.

“What are you going to do, beat me up?”

“You hit me . . .”

Pia skipped around the furniture until she stood near the lobby. She held up her arm.

“That’s nothing. Look at me. My arm is broken in two places, and I had broken ribs and had a head injury. And I lost my spleen.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” Berman said, raising his hands in mock surrender. He was laughing and, at the same time, pleading almost.

Pia knew she’d judged him correctly. He was most likely a physical coward who probably enjoyed inflicting pain. Berman reminded her of her despised uncle.

“Do you enjoy thinking about women being hurt?’

“No, Pia, believe me. Maybe I like to play a game or two, but it’s always consensual and in good fun. Come on, Pia, you’re torturing me.”

“I know.”

“Is it the money? I can offer you more money.”

“Okay, offer me more money.”

“I’ll double the money.”

“So write it down.”

Berman scurried back to the desk and scratched on the contract with a pen. To Pia, he was weak, desperate, and pathetic. If he couldn’t control an issue, he wanted to buy his way to a solution. Pia’s confidence grew with her realization that she’d seized control of the situation.

“Let me see the number.”

Berman handed her the contract.

“That’s more like it. Now come here.”

He walked toward her, and she pushed him back down into the club chair.

“Where do you keep your toys?”

“My toys?”

“You know what I mean. A man like you in this big house.”

“In the bedroom. In the cupboard on the right next to the bed.”

“Stay here.”

Pia killed the lights in the living room and went up to Berman’s bedroom. She found the cupboard and, indeed, as she suspected, it was full of sex toys, masks, and a coil of nylon rope and a lot of things she didn’t recognize. She worked quickly before she lost her nerve. She found a blindfold and some handcuffs and took the rope, not exactly sure what she was going to do. Then she struggled out of her jeans and shirt, leaving on her panties and bra. She gathered up the sex paraphernalia along with her clothes and returned downstairs.

Berman’s eyes opened wide when he saw her near nakedness and the booty from the cupboard in her free arm. “Don’t you move!” Pia ordered as she dumped everything onto the couch except the rope.

“I haven’t. What are you going to do to me?” Berman was good at role playing. He was transfixed by her activity and body, watching her every move.

“You’ll see,” she said. She stepped behind him, told him to lean forward, and to put his hands behind his back. He complied, trying to catch sight of her over his shoulder. With some difficulty with her cast, Pia managed to tie his hands, but not too well. She wanted him to be able to free himself but only after some effort. She then returned to face him and pushed him back into the chair. “I said you’ll see. But I was lying.” Pia slipped the blindfold over Berman’s head. She then popped all the snaps on the front of Berman’s shirt, exposing his chest and his admirably flat abdomen. “Is this what you like?” She ran her hand down the contours in front of him stopping at his belt. She gave his belt a tug.

Berman groaned and shifted in his seat.

“What I’m trying to do here,” Pia explained, “is give you a good premonition of what it is going to be like when I fully recover. I told you I have broken bones, so unfortunately we’ll have to wait for the real thing, won’t we.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t want to wait!”

Pia got the camera and, standing directly in front of Berman, made sure it was in focus. She then reached out, pulled off the blindfold, and snapped a rapid series of photos of his face with his eyes thrown completely open in surprise.

“What the hell!” he shouted.

“Perfect,” Pia said. “These will go well with my wildflowers.”

“I told you I don’t like having my picture taken,” he said.

“You said you didn’t like cameras,” Pia corrected him. Quickly she replaced the blindfold before Berman knew what was happening. He shook his head violently in an attempt to get rid of it.

“Hey. Take this thing off!”

“Sorry,” Pia said. She took another picture of Berman with the blindfold in place, and then quickly retrieved her clothes and the camera lens cover.

“What are you doing now?” Berman demanded as he struggled to free his hands.

“You have to wait for next time. I want to be fully healthy. And in case you are interested, I wanted to have a few photos in my possession just so you don’t hold all the cards, Mr. Berman. I assure you that they are for my use only.”

Berman struggled to his feet and then buried his head in the chair in an attempt to dislodge the blindfold.

Pia grabbed the contract from the table and ran to the front door, carrying her clothes. She didn’t want to be there when Berman got himself free. Nor did she bother to put on her clothes when she got down to her car, not wanting to take the time. She didn’t know if Berman could remotely keep the gate closed at the base of his driveway, but she assumed so and didn’t want to take the chance of being caught on his grounds. When the gate opened as she approached it, she felt a great sense of relief. As she drove away on the county road, she suspected there would be some consequences to what she’d done, but at least she had the photos.