Out of Reach Read Online Free

of
Preston-Ward Pharmaceuticals. While one of the smaller companies in
the game, Preston-Ward still ranks among the leaders in drug
development for genetic disorders and degenerative diseases. To a
glorified geek like me, the whole gig sounded sensational from the
get-go, right down to the white lab coat and glasses.
    Ha! I think to myself. If I only knew
then what I know now—no job is as good as it seems on
paper.
    They always forget to mention the pitfalls,
like while you will be screening hundreds of new or modified
compounds each year, only one or two may show enough potential to
move into the drug development and testing phase, from there a mere
handful will possess the promise to move into human trials and then
maybe one day make it to the drug market. Over-achiever that I am,
I assumed I’d have cancer cured by now, or at the very least
irritable bowel syndrome (for my grandmother).
    It irks me that I can still recall with
perfect clarity the elation I felt the day I got the call offering
me a job at Preston-Ward.
    Despite having finally finished my doctoral
program at Boston University and officially becoming Gwen Matthews,
Dr. Smarty Pants, I had no job prospects and no idea if I wanted to
continue living in Boston, move back home to California, or travel
the world. For the summer, I had been working on campus, having
begged a former genetics professor to take me on in his lab.
Grudgingly I had forced myself to submit a few job applications,
mostly to labs around town, all of which had been recommended by
Kade, a friend from undergrad, but nothing had come of it. One of
my problems was that I looked great on paper but had no real work
experience. School had been my job for a long time, and I had
excelled at that. Probably my biggest problem was I wasn’t excited
about any of the jobs and nothing kills an interview like an
apathetic applicant.
    So there I was drinking coffee and hoping
for divine job inspiration from my Internet search when my purse
started vibrating. Fishing out my phone, I managed to answer before
it went to voicemail.
    “Hello. This is Gwen ... Uh huh … Thank you
... Uh huh ... I would love to ... Yes ... Yes, I’m looking forward
to it.” And just like that I had accepted my first job at
Preston-Ward in sunny San Diego.
    Not twenty seconds later I was on the phone
again. “Hello, Melanie? It’s Gwen. Pack your bags, girl, ‘cause
you’re helping me move home to California.”
    “You got the job!” she screamed.
    “Yup, I got the job.”
    Truth be told, my application to
Preston-Ward was a fluke. One night, just after graduation, my
then-roommate Stephanie had been helping me complete online job
applications. On a whim, she had sent out several applications for
high profile jobs like the one at Preston-Ward, jobs that I was in
no way qualified for but she thought sounded cool. I never imagined
I’d be considered as a serious candidate for any of those
positions, but Preston-Ward had called a week later to set up a
phone interview with me.
    Two weeks after accepting the position,
everything I owned was stuffed into the back of my car and well,
the rest is history.
    “Hey, Gwen.”
    Pulled from my thoughts, I look up to find
Joe gesturing for me to join him at the central worktable.
    “Coming.” I grab my pen and drag myself
across the floor to see what all the fuss is about.
    “We’ve managed to maintain stability for
five minutes and counting,” Joe announces with a smile. I laugh
when I notice he’s also got his fingers crossed behind his back.
Catching on to the guy’s enthusiasm, I reach for the plate.
    “Okay, let me see.”
    I no more than put my hand
on the plate when the briefly stable compound begins to break down,
and then vaporize completely. Ugh , I think to myself.
    “Sorry, guys, I must be bad luck.”
    “I just don’t understand it!” Joe exclaims.
“It shouldn’t be this hard to maintain stability at room
temperature.”
    “Well, we can always market