And then she realizes that there’s one other person besides herself at Darling Skin Care who has access to everything. One other person who has been here since the very beginning. Slowly she walks out of the lab. She doesn’t bother locking it this time.
When she gets to Barry’s office, there’s a new receptionist she doesn’t recognize who tries to stop her at the desk. “I’m sorry, but there’s a meeting going on,” she says. Holly isn’t having it.
“I am Holly Darling,” she snarls, pushing her way past and opening the door. A bevy of blank faces turn to her. The company has always been small, so why can’t she recognize a third of the people looking at her?
She swallows, tries not to let her unease turn to fear. Instead she holds tightly to the anger that’s fueling her. Who does he think he is?
“I need to talk to you,” she says to Barry, who is sitting at the head of the table. “Now.”
“Sure,” he says easily. He turns to the people around the conference table. “Take a break, okay?” He glances at his watch. “We’ll pick up after lunch.”
Holly waits until the room clears.
“Where’s Elliot?”
Barry leans back in his chair. “Why don’t you sit down?” He gestures to the phone. “I could get us a drink, or order up a late lunch if you like.”
Holly doesn’t move.
He sighs, swivels the chair to face her. “Or we can do it the hard way.”
“Where’s Elliot?” she repeats.
“Look, I’ve wanted to tell you, but I thought I should do it face-to-face, and with you away . . . And then I wanted you to enjoy the launch. I needed you to focus on that.” He makes an appeasing motion with his hand. “Holly, I fired him.”
“You fired my lead scientist without telling me?” She thinks of Jack and Eden, and any hope she’d had of working with Elliot crumbles. The unease she’s been choking back washes over her, extinguishing her anger, turning to full-fledged fear. “Why, Barry? What would make you do that?”
“I figured you had enough on your plate,” Barry says. “And to be honest, you haven’t seemed that interested in the company lately.”
She doesn’t take the bait. She doesn’t mention all the new faces, either. “If you fired him, you can hire him again,” she says. “Now. I want him back.”
Barry shakes his head. “That’s not possible.”
“What the fuck, Barry!” She takes a breath, lowers her voice, tries to match his impossibly reasonable tone. “Look. Elliot’s the best at what he does. I need him. We need him.”
Jack and Eden need him.
“I’m sure that’s true, but there are other people out there who are almost as good,” Barry says placatingly. “Dr. Harper is one of them, and she could take this company in a new direction. Why don’t you give her a chance, see if she works out?”
“Barry, I—”
“Look, I know you two were close,” he interrupts. “But you have to trust me. Elliot was becoming a liability.”
“I don’t care what he was becoming,” she says, glaring. “You had no right.”
Barry sighs again. When he resumes speaking, his voice is barely a whisper, so soft Holly has to lean in to hear him.
“Elliot came to me and said you were using untested, unapproved human components in some of the samples. He found them in your lab. He raised the possibility of contamination in the actual products. He said you were . . . I believe his word was sloppy.”
The blood drains from Holly’s face. For Elliot, sloppy is the worst insult. Code for not following protocol. For working outside of ethical guidelines. For manipulating data.
In short, for everything she’s been doing.
“He must have misunderstood,” she says desperately. “He didn’t realize what . . .”
Barry raises his hand. When he speaks, his voice is so calm he might as well be discussing the weather. “He showed me the samples, Holly. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, and I don’t want to know. Dr. Harper is in charge for now, and she’s been warned to watch out for any irregularities. I sent Elliot away with a fat settlement, a strict nondisclosure, and a noncompete clause.” He shrugs. “If you prefer, you can think of it as an early retirement—that’s how I spun it. He can spend the rest of his life researching the life cycle of the purple sea slug or whatever the hell he’s into, sitting on a beach in Tahiti. I hear it’s a magical place.”