Chapter 7
Four years, almost five. That was how long it had been since I’d been attacked by a shark and sent back to the States. I did research when I could, but mostly I spoke to potential donors—be still my heart—because no matter how much money the lab had, it could always use more.
“Dr. Knight?” Gwendolyn Lawrence, my secretary, hovered in the doorway to my office. She’d been with me all this time and was more than just my gal Friday—she kept my professional life running smoothly and didn’t judge my private life. I never knew how she’d picked up on the fact I was homosexual; I avoided stereotypical behavior, didn’t let my gaze linger on any of the male persuasion with whom I worked, and never brought any of my s*x partners to the lab
One evening, however, she’d stayed after work and
