“Don’t worry about it. At least this time I’ll have a legitimate excuse for being late for dinner. Besides, what else are friends for?” Steve chuckled. “I just can’t figure out why all of a sudden they’re calling you into headquarters. A one-on-one meeting with Winslow either means you’ve done something really bad—in which case I probably don’t want to know who you are anymore—or you’re getting a promotion and we might have to party like back in the old days.”

Juan snorted. “Don’t plan a party just yet. I think it’s more likely they’re kicking my ass to the curb.”

Steve shook his head. “Nah, Winslow wouldn’t have his admin book you a flight just so they can fire you. They could do that over the phone. I’ve heard more layoffs are on the way, though. Rumor mill, of course, so take that with a grain of salt. Though they did cancel my open position, so I know they’re still pinching pennies.”

Juan said nothing. Despite his friend’s assurances, he couldn’t stop the nagging worry that he was about to lose his job.

Steve pulled the car into the American Airlines check-in area. “Well, we made it.”

“Thanks, Steve. And don’t worry, if I get a promotion I’ll try not to let it get to my head.” Juan reached into the backseat and grabbed his duffel bag. “Just save your guest room for me. I might need a place to bunk if they toss me out on my ass and I can’t afford my apartment.”

Steve laughed. “Hey man, keep a positive attitude, and don’t let them see you sweat!”

###

Dr. Harry Winslow was the sixty-something-year-old Director of Research at AgriMed Global. As the head of the company’s R&D division, he had nearly five hundred people either directly or indirectly reporting to him across five different continents. Juan hadn’t seen him more than once or twice since the day the director had welcomed him to the company on his first day at work. That had been three years ago.

Now Winslow tossed Juan a smile and motioned to a pair of brown straight-backed chairs in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Juan. Make yourself comfortable.”

His tone was friendly, but Juan couldn’t help but notice that the director’s dark-brown eyes stared shrewdly at him and his jaw muscles bulged slightly, as though he were gritting his teeth.

He also looked not at all like the lab-coat-wearing genetic researcher Juan had met on his first day. He had become very much the corporate executive, complete with black pinstriped suit, not a strand of his salt-and-pepper hair out of place.