In his free moments in between rotations at the hospital, Brendan recalled the dinner meeting with Hayden. She had steered the conversation for most of the evening and he was content to let her do so. Her questions mainly focused on what meals he enjoyed cooking and what led him to medical school. When he did ask her a question, she answered with a succinct response.
Brendan was almost certain that the line of questioning was deliberate, just as her choice of carpaccio as an appetizer had been deliberate. Hayden's gaze had lingered on his face too long to be anything other than intentional. He momentarily considered the possibility of her being interested in him. But people didn't flirt over the idea of raw meat… at least, not most people.
Besides that, as attractive as she was, she wasn't his type. At least that's what he kept telling himself. Hayden exuded confidence and Brendan was sure she would have no problem seeing through any line he would throw at her. Nor would she hesitate to tell him where he could stick the ill-timed come on; he was sure of that also.
When he had asked if she was part of that clandestine group that had turned him down, Hayden denied any affiliation. She only stated that the men who had been at the mansion that evening had connections. Connections had put Brendan on their radar and connections had also provided his GPA and insight into his medical skills. Hayden was all business and matter-of-fact as she explained while he continued to wonder who the connections were and how much they knew.
When they parted for the evening, Hayden had told him that they would be in touch but so far, his phone had not rung and no letter arrived in the mail. She hadn't offered a business card or told him a business name, so Brendan had no way to contact her easily. With his patience wearing thin, Brendan did some research on Hayden Garrison during his free time.
As he thought, they were about the same age. Hayden had earned an MBA from Stamford and now worked with her father. Her mother was deceased. From one of the few recent articles he could find, it seemed that she had been named to the board of the local library and was very happy about it. While Brendan was in the midst of one of his searches, Blake called. His keen excitement was unmistakable even over the phone.
"Kemp, the clinic just received a half million dollar donation. The donor is anonymous but I don't think it's a coincidence," Blake said.
Brendan agreed with him, then exhaled slowly. After some deliberate mental editing, he shared some details from his meeting.
Hayden also replayed the dinner meeting. Her recap was at the request of her father. John Garrison had come into her office and wanted to know if she found Brendan to be the person they had hoped he was. Hayden hesitated before answering.
"He's smart, he's careful, and he was waiting for you to call him," she finally said.
"So… he's interested," John said as he took a seat in front of her desk. He noticed Hayden's expression. "What's the problem?"
"I mentioned how we came across his name; he hardly blinked."
"Did you expect him to tell you that he killed a person?"
"No. I expected that I'd get a look of shock or a bit of protest maybe both, not silence."
"You read Sampson's workup on him, didn't you?"
She looked up from the monitor and nodded. The reaction and subsequent silence resulted in an observation from her father. "You don't trust him."
"No one should trust him. People who do will likely end up dead," Hayden said.
"Eventually… yes."
With that the conversation paused.
"He wants immediate gratification. The waiting is bothering him and I want to see what he does when things don't proceed the way he thinks they should," Hayden said breaking the silence.
This time John Garrison nodded. Hayden told him that she wanted to speak with Brendan again and see if he was willing to disclose any more information about himself. She was sure that by time a meeting time was agreed upon, Brendan's friend would have shared the news of the anonymous donation.
"Do you expect him to trust us?" John Garrison finally asked.
"Us? No. Me? Eventually," Hayden replied. Even though she was speaking with her father, she was serious and all business. John Garrison's expression reflected more than a bit of doubt and he expressed concern that his investors would expect things to be settled soon.
"Tell them relax and be patient. It will be better for everyone if Brendan finishes med school," she said.
After a long day at clinicals, Brendan went home and found some messages waiting in his voice mail. The first was from the landlord droning on and reminding him about the partial rent he owed. He deleted it immediately. Assuming that the second message would be the landlord calling back, Brendan's attention focused on finding something to eat in the refrigerator. By time he realized who was calling, Hayden's voice was finishing up the final digits of a phone number. Brendan silently cursed, then replayed the message.
Brendan smiled and looked at the clock. He assumed that it was an office number she had left and it was too late to call now. He quickly scrawled the number on a scrap of paper to call the next day when he had a moment. The week was suddenly looking better.
As he leaned against the brick outside the emergency entrance, Brendan dialed the number. An unfamiliar voice answered. He gave his name and explained he had received a message from Hayden. The voice acknowledged that Hayden had called but wouldn't transfer Brendan. They did however provide a few dates and times and the name of a local restaurant. He chose the nearest date that fit with his schedule.
"I thought I wouldn't hear from you," Brendan said as he sat down at the table. This time Hayden was waiting for him to arrive.
"Like that guy who says they'll call, but never does?" she replied. "I'm sure you've never done that."
His eyes narrowed and grew cold.
"My job entails more than you. How's school?" Hayden continued.
"Long days… little sleep. Just wonderful," Brendan said then grew serious. "How long is this game of yours going to go on?"
"Until I come to a decision about you. You are free to leave or tell me you're not interested at any time," Hayden said with a smile. "Tell me what makes a nineteen-year-old pre-med student apply to a private… um, organization of old men with rather unusual tastes. I was going to football games and parties."
"Our football team sucked," he retorted with an enigmatic grin.
He watched her over the wine glass in his hand. After taking a sip he continued, "From our conversations, you already know the answer. You want me to say something so you can use it against me later."
"Actually, I'm curious," Hayden said.
Brendan looked at her curiously trying to gauge her intention. No one had ever asked him anything like this mainly because no one knew what he had done. What he was still doing from time to time. "What's in it for me?"
"Money," Hayden said. "And, probably more important, much less chance of getting in serious trouble."
"What's in it for you?"
"Me, personally? Not a whole lot. I'm just trying to keep everyone happy."
"What if I don't believe you?" Brendan asked.
"The door is over there," Hayden said gesturing. "They will find someone else to take your place."