Amara, in the midst of a sip of coffee, lowered her mug. “I didn’t ask you to look into my finances as a way to get you to invest —”
“Of course you didn’t. I decided that all on my own.”
“I’m going to read between the lines here and assume, then, that I don’t have enough to continue even a minor part of my research.”
Jaslene reached over and patted her hand. “Not by yourself. Not even if you liquidate every single thing you own. You know how expensive your work is.”
Amara’s disappointment sent her shoulders slumping. “I know. I hoped … maybe there was enough …”
“You’ve got me, though,” Jaslene said. “I think with both our resources we should be able to maintain the field trials for a little while, hopefully until this thing with Frederik blows over.”
But this thing with Frederik may never blow over, Amara thought. “What were you going to do to better the world, before I called you today with my troubles?”
Jaslene stirred her coffee. “It doesn’t matter. It can wait.”
“Tell me.”
“I was bouncing around a few different ideas. It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, Jaslene, you should go with your original plans, whatever they are,” Amara said.
“I will, someday,” Jaslene said with confidence. “After you get your funding back.”
“But not if you spend all your savings on my research instead of getting your company going. There won’t be financial returns for years, if ever. I won’t hear of you putting everything you’ve got into a potential sinkhole like my research. Period. End of conversation.”
“This is stupid. Sinkhole? Really? Since when is feeding the world a sinkhole? I want to make a difference. Who cares if I do it with my own company or not? The purpose is accomplished regardless.”
“I care. I can’t wait to see what you do with your ideas, Jaslene. I know you’re going to kill it, because you don’t know how to do anything but succeed.”
Her friend looked crestfallen. “You can’t give up on cassava. You can’t.”
“I’m not,” Amara said briskly. “I have an investor who’s willing to fund me, a very wealthy investor who has stepped in at the last minute.”
Jaslene’s lovely face lit up. “Why didn’t you lead with this? When I talked to you on the phone, you said everyone had deserted you.”
“It’s … a long story. Anyway, I had thought I’d check with you to see if I could swing this alone. But since I can’t, then I’ll simply reconsider this sponsor’s offer.”
“Is there something wrong with the offer? Do you want me to look it over? I’d be happy to.”
“I know. It’s not necessary, though. I think I can work this one out on my own.” Amara damned sure hoped she could. “Now, tell me about these ideas you’ve got for bettering the world.”
Jaslene grinned and forged ahead with the enthusiasm of a true entrepreneur.
Amara listened, happy for her, but she couldn’t stop thinking about something Jaslene said: You know what you want and you make it happen, and you do it in the service of the world. It’s not all about you.
It wasn’t all about Amara.
If so then why, this time, did it feel like it was?
SHE CALLED QUINT THAT NIGHT. “I guess that for all the good it’ll do the world, if I’m not willing to sacrifice to save so many, I’m not doing my work for the right reasons.”
Quint heav
ed a sigh. Amara was surprised by his obvious relief as well as pleased. She hoped it proved his sincerity. She needed to believe that he was making this bargain, this condition, for not wholly selfish reasons.
But did that actually matter? Her work could continue no other way. People were counting on her, and there was too much at stake to let them down.
Quint broke into her thoughts. “I’ve got a special lawyer to handle the entire affair. He’s the only one who will know about our bargain. We’ll both be protected that way, and we’ll hammer out precisely what we need. So you agree? It’s a go?”