"Fuck," Brendan muttered as he opened his eyes and spied the clock on the nightstand.
It was later than he had thought. Luckily, he didn't have to be at the hospital that day. He slowly sat up and looked around the room. His shirt and pants were strewn on the chair where they had been tossed almost as soon as he gotten in the room. Brendan thought about just going back to sleep in the hopes of getting rid of the pounding headache but he really needed something to ease the dry mouth.
After downing a bottle of water in two gulps, he went to use the restroom. As he was leaving, he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. The bloodshot eyes that stared back confirmed that he had drunk too much the night before. He had talked too much too, if his memory could be relied on at this point.
Brendan hadn't left the restaurant when Hayden pointed towards the door. Instead, he had calmly picked up the bottle of wine sitting on the table and topped off both their glasses. A leisurely dinner had followed. He had asked Hayden a few questions, nothing too personal, mostly about Stamford. She had answered readily but only spoke in generalities. In return, she had posed a few questions to him; hers were a bit more personal, mainly pertaining to his childhood.
Once the second bottle of wine had been brought to the table and glasses filled, Hayden casually inquired if he was still indulging in his exotic tastes. Brendan had serenely stared at her before glancing around. The restaurant hadn't been overly crowded and they were seated a bit apart from other diners. She smiled at his bit of uneasiness and reminded him that she was well aware of his past.
"Does it matter?" Brendan asked.
"Not really. I'm just curious."
Silence followed and Hayden gave a slight shrug. Seconds later, Brendan began to talk. His concession was helped by the wine and by the fact she seemed to already know everything. As he explained his actions, Hayden appeared unmoved. Brendan related that accident victims came in to the hospital on occasion and required a limb amputation. He told her that generally, most amputated limbs were deemed a biohazard medical waste and sent to a crematory or given to medical students to practice on. Since he was a medical student, no one thought his requests unusual.
Hayden didn't say a word. If she was judging him or was secretly horrified, Brendan was unable to tell by her expression. Her next question was unexpected.
"Does Blake know?"
"No," Brendan replied with a short laugh. Imagining Blake finding out was unintentionally comical. "No one knows. Or at least no one knew."
She seemed satisfied with that answer and the conversation turned to travel and other mundane subjects. When they were preparing to leave, Hayden offered him a ride home.
"You shouldn't be driving," she told him.
"You drank just as much… and what about my car."
"I have a driver waiting. Dad's money has some perks," Hayden explained with a knowing grin. "Let me see what we can do about your car."
She got out her cellphone and seconds later was speaking to someone. Hayden explained the car situation and within moments she hung up and assured Brendan the matter was handled. His car would be allowed overnight in the valet parking; he could pick it up the next day preferably before evening.
Outside the restaurant, Brendan had stepped aside to allow Hayden to climb into the back of the black sedan that was waiting at the curb. The driver was an imposing man with a long dark braid hanging down his back. He glared at Brendan, giving him a solemn once over but then almost cheerfully reasserted to Hayden that Brendan's car would be fine.
Hayden chuckled at the man's sudden change in attitude. Once he was sitting next to her, she leaned in and whispered to Brendan not to take it personally. The driver asked where they were going and Hayden replied with Brendan's address.
The fact she knew his address had surprised him. Despite the alcohol, Brendan sat up straight in the back of the vehicle. Hayden noticed his apprehension and reassured him that his secret was safe with her as she tucked her arm under his and squeezed his hand.
"Relax," she said and leaned close.
He looked over at her; the wine had made her eyes glassy. Brendan sunk back into the seat as Hayden began nuzzling his neck. He sighed, knowing pushing her away would be more prudent. Hayden echoed the sound and for most of the drive she rested her head against him. As they pulled up to his apartment building, her lips lightly grazed his sideburn.
"I want to taste you," she whispered in his ear before he exited the car.
At least he thought that was what he heard. Now, in the light of day, Brendan somewhat regretted his admissions of the previous night. Had she really said those words, or had it been the wine messing with his hearing.
On a break during his hospital rotation early the next week, Brendan checked his cellphone. There was one voicemail waiting and it was a familiar number. He shook his head as he stood by the lockers and thought about just deleting it but it was a long shift. If nothing else, the replaying the message would give him something to laugh about the rest of the night.
Brendan was immediately surprised by the landlord's tone. Even the way he said his name was upbeat. The landlord went on to thank him for not only promptly paying the rent that he owed but also for paying for the next two months. After another effusive thanks, the landlord hung up.
"I see you've made your decision," John Garrison said to Hayden as he stopped in the doorway of her office.
"If I didn't, I'd have you asking me about it at least once a day."
"Did he confess to you over dessert?"
"No confession… and no dessert," Hayden replied with a smile before returning her attention to the spreadsheet on her screen.
"Hmmm," Garrison pondered. "Then why the sudden change of mind?"
"It's less about him and more about the rest of you," she explained. "I really don't want my phone ringing all day asking for some sort of update from all your friends."
"Business associates," he corrected.
"Whatever," Hayden said. "As I said before, he's still in school. If it doesn't work out, at worst we're out a couple thousand in rent and sundries and I won't have to be harassed."
"That's a bit strong of a word to describe a matter that you insisted upon being involved in."
Hayden curtly nodded. "Your receptionist will also be much happier that she won't be fielding nonstop calls."
"Have you heard from him?" John Garrison asked.
"Not yet."
"Do you expect to?"
"Definitely. It's not everyday that you go from owing rent money to being months ahead. The landlord is ecstatic," Hayden said while looking at her father seriously. "Brendan will call. He'll want to know what's next… and what made me come to a decision."
Hayden watched as her father nodded and walked down the hallway. She returned her attention to the spreadsheet. While she was sure Brendan would be happy about having his rent taken care of, she was almost certain he might have something to say about the ride home.