Dinner with Andrew

by Martha Williamson

  Andrew was not used to hearing himself described as a wonderful prize; even those souls who welcomed him when he came for them at the end of their lives did not consider him a prize . . . well, not exactly. This auction was even worse than he had dared to imagine. He could feel his cheeks burning with embarrassment, and he just wished the whole thing were over and done.

  Kate didn’t think she wanted to bid a dime more than she had already. So, for a moment, it looked as if Beth had won the day and the prize, but then something in her rival made her speak up.

  Kate Calder struck again—maybe it was her dislike of Beth, maybe it was her unwillingness to be outdone in anything, but something in Kate made her decide to bid again, to up the ante one more time.

  Kate shouted her bid: “Six thousand dollars!”

  There were gasps around the room. Beth sighed heavily—she could bid no more. She had already gone far past her budget. But Kate smiled in triumph. Jackie looked delighted and glanced over at Beth to see if she had any advance on the six-thousand-dollar bid. But despite Beth’s strange attraction to Andrew, she knew that she could not afford to pay any more money than she had already bid. Five thousand was probably too much. Reluctantly she shook her head when Jackie looked at her, and then looked away.

  “Six thousand dollars!” Jackie Cysse crowed. She raised her gavel. “Going once. Going twice . . . sold!” She brought the gavel down with a loud crack, and there was immediate and prolonged applause at the high bid of the day.

  Beth was genuinely disappointed, but Kate did not seem to notice her triumph or even care about it. She was digging in her purse for her checkbook as Andrew climbed down from the auction block, making his way toward the winning bidder.

  Jackie wrapped things up quickly. “Thank you, everyone!” she said. “That wonderful bid ends this year’s Books and Bachelors Luncheon. And I know we’ll be seeing you all right back here next year.”

  As far as Jackie was concerned, that was the end of the event. She had no idea what her little charity luncheon had set in motion.

  Chapter Four

  Andrew caught up with Kate as she stood at the cashier’s desk to the left of the podium. She had her head down and was busily writing out the check to the charity. As she made out the check that paid for her time with her impulse purchase, she did not so much as glance in his direction. She didn’t mind spending the money—beating out her arch-rival Beth Popik had held its usual pleasure—but she had no intention of spending the time with her “eligible bachelor.” Far from it. Her only intention had been to win one more small victory in the continuing war she had declared on Beth.

  Of course, Andrew had no idea of any of this when he caught up with her. He approached warily, as if afraid of startling her, the way a hunter avoids spooking an animal.

  “Hi,” he said with a half smile. He was feeling awkward and unpolished, completely unsure of himself. It was safe to say that he was not certain what the protocol was for this sort of thing. Besides, he was far from used to going on dates. “I’m Andrew . . .”

  Kate glanced at him, a cold, dismissive glance, and went on writing her check. She ripped it from the checkbook and handed it to the cashier.

  The cashier took it. “Just a minute, ma’am,” the woman said, “I’ll give you a receipt.”

  “Don’t bother,” said Kate. She turned and, still studiously ignoring Andrew, made for the door. Andrew sighed and followed along in her wake. He steeled himself against her indifference and caught up with her.

  “Miss Calder?” said Andrew. “I guess I’m not really sure what happens next. Maybe you could enlighten me. I’ve never been auctioned off before.”

  Kate paused and stared at him coldly. “You know,” she said finally, “I think I know practically every doctor in this town . . . and I’ve never heard of you, Dr. Andrew Friend. I can’t help but wonder why that is. Of course, a friend of Jackie Cysse’s is bound to be well known—and I have the feeling you’re not.” She looked at him critically for a second or two. “Am I right . . . ‘Doctor’?”

  “Well,” said Andrew, feeling the harshness of her gaze, “that’s something I want to explain to you . . . And I thought doing so over dinner would be the perfect opportunity.”

  Kate Calder stopped and looked him up and down, her face hard and unsmiling. “Look,” she said, her words clipped and cold, “nothing personal, but I’m not interested in a date with you. I spent the money because it goes to a good cause, so let’s just forget it, okay, Dr. Friend?”

  Andrew shook his head slightly, like a boxer shaking off a blow. “But I don’t understand,” he said. “If you didn’t want to go out, why didn’t you just make a donation to the institute? Why did you bother to bid for me?”

  “I wasn’t bidding for you,” Kate said bluntly. She had never had a problem with being frank.

  “You weren’t?” Andrew asked. Somewhere inside him he felt a sense of hurt. It surprised him. He thought that the auction was the most humiliating thing he had ever undergone, but having emerged from it triumphant with the top bid, he was now determined to see it through. He knew this must be part of the assignment— there was no way he could have been placed in this position without good reason. And he was sure that his desire to dine with this infuriating woman was certainly not based on vanity on his part.

  “No, I wasn’t bidding for you,” Kate explained. “I was bidding against her.” She cocked her head toward Beth Popik, who was walking up the stairs and out of the room. At that moment, Beth stopped and turned, as if she knew she was being talked about. As she glanced back at them, her eyes alighting on Andrew, she felt once again that peculiar feeling, that stab of recognition, the sense that somehow, from somewhere, she knew him.

  Kate was oblivious to Beth’s gaze. “And I won,” she said. She looked pleased at her success, but Andrew could not help but see the sadness in her eyes. Kate walked away, leaving Andrew in a state of total confusion.

  The angels were assembled in a corner of the hotel lobby, going over the rather puzzling— but to Tess and Monica, very entertaining— events of the afternoon.

  “I don’t get it,” said Andrew, with a shake of his head. “This makes no sense at all. Why would she spend all that money just to annoy someone she works with?”

  “That seems extremely mean-spirited of her,” said Monica. “And on top of that” she added, “it seems like you went through that whole thing for nothing.”

  Andrew was surprised to discover that he was feeling a little defensive about that.

  “Well, I did get the highest price of any guy there, you know,” he said in his own defense. “And as you keep saying, it was in aid of a good cause. That counts for something, surely.”

  It was obvious that Tess was not interested in debating the smaller points of the Books and Bachelors Luncheon; she was more interested in the big picture. “I’ve got a feeling it was more than that, Andrew . . . I’ve got the feeling it was for more than we know.” She looked to Monica and Andrew, the seriousness showing in her eyes. “There’s a reason we were all called here. I’m sure of it.”

  This gave Monica and Andrew pause. They had long ago learned to trust Tess’ intuition in these matters. The sheer weight of Tess’ centuries of experience gave great import to any feelings she might have. There was silence for a moment before Monica noticed a familiar figure striding across the hotel lobby, coming toward them.

  “Adam?” said Monica. She glanced over at Tess. “What’s Adam doing here?” she asked, more puzzled than ever. “I didn’t know he was assigned to work with us.”

  Tess shook her head slowly. “Neither did I.”

  Like Andrew, Adam was an Angel of Death. He was a little older-looking, perhaps a little more urbane and sophisticated. He was dressed as formally as Andrew, but he seemed more at ease in his finery than Andrew was in his. For an Angel of Death he was something of a charmer.

  “I am so sorry,” said Adam, coming up to where the angels were sitting. “Monica,
you’re looking lovely! Am I too late?”

  “Well,” said Tess sternly, “that depends.” She did not approve of tardiness in the angels under her supervision. “What are you talking about?”

  “I had a passing in Duluth,” Adam said a touch defensively. Tess could be hard on her angels. “A charming, delightful lady, all her affairs in order,” Adam said. “Ninety-two years old, and she couldn’t wait to go home.” He smiled beatifically. “And I was all ready to take her and then, poof, Wheel of Fortune comes on . . .”

  “Wheel of Fortune?” Tess said with a snort. “What on earth does Wheel of Fortune have to do with anything?”

  Adam smiled. “What on earth, Tess? Well, it turned out the last thing she wanted to see on earth was the bonus round in Wheel of Fortune. She wouldn’t go until it was over.”

  Andrew nodded as the picture became clear. “Oh, I get it. You were delayed, so I was sent here to cover for you.”

  Adam nodded. “That’s right. Thanks.”

  “But we still don’t know what the assignment is,” said Monica. “Or why Tess and I are here.”

  “Wait, wait,” said Adam, holding up a hand, like a policeman stopping traffic. “Not so fast . . .” He turned back to Andrew. “Andrew, did you stand here and get randomly chosen to be a bachelor?”

  Andrew nodded. “Yes. That’s right. I didn’t like it.”

  “You’re not supposed to like it, Andrew,” said Adam with a smile. “It’s all part of the plan . . . And then did the doctor bid on you?”

  “Yeah,” said Andrew ruefully. “I fetched six thousand bucks. The highest bid, as it turned out.”

  Adam laughed. “Not bad, not bad at all. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have fetched a bit more, but six thousand dollars—that’s pretty impressive.”

  “Get on with it,” growled Tess.

  “Okay,” said Adam. “So, the date’s on? It’s all set up for tonight, then?”

  Andrew shook his head. “If that’s the plan, then it didn’t work. She blew me off.”

  Suddenly Adam was more than a little alarmed. “No,” he said urgently. “You have to go on that date with her tonight.”

  “I don’t think she likes me,” said Andrew with a little smile. “Maybe you ought to go instead.”

  Adam shook his head. “No, that won’t work. You’re the angel on the case now. You’ve got to follow through on this.” He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small business card. “Here’s the restaurant you’re supposed to take her to.” He glanced down at Tess and Monica. “And I think you’re going to need some backup on this one, Andrew.”

  “We still don’t know what we’re supposed to do, Adam,” said Monica. “We’ve had no instructions at all.”

  Adam cleared his throat nervously. “Well, I think you’ll know what to do when you see the restaurant.” He snuck a quick peek at his wristwatch. “Look, I’ve got a scuba diving crisis in three minutes. I may be a while—it could go either way. I’ll meet you at the restaurant tonight and fill you in.” He looked sternly at Andrew and wagged his finger at him. “Just make sure you get her there.”

  Then Adam turned on his heel and made for the double glass doors of the hotel lobby—but never emerged on the other side. He had vanished. The three angels exchanged a look.

  “What do you make of that?” Monica asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Andrew, standing up and straightening his suit coat. “But I have to get out of here.”

  “Where are you going?” Tess asked.

  “Hey,” said Andrew, “I guess I need a date for tonight.”

  Chapter Five

  It had been an expensive day for Dr. Kate Calder.

  First she had the unexpected expenditure at the Books and Bachelors Luncheon, now she was paying for the installation of an extremely high-tech safe in her corner of the lab at the Nichols BioTech research laboratory. There was no shortage of safes and locked, fireproof file cases at Nichols, but Kate had insisted on having her own strongbox, and she was determined to pay for it out of her own pocket. In paying for her own security, Kate bought the right to have sole knowledge of the combination. The expensive, electronic safe—it was absolutely top of the line—was known around the institute as “Kate’s Folly,” and already engendered a certain amount of resentment; it suggested that Kate did not trust her colleagues with her precious research. But that was par for the course with the difficult Dr. Calder.

  Kate made no secret of her dislike for her associates, and it was only the quality of her work that allowed her to be tolerated by the management of the institute and those around her.

  Science labs are frequently studies in contrasts. There is almost always intense personal competition between individuals or even between teams of researchers working on the same project. But the opposite can also be true. Inside the lab there might be competition, but there is also a sense of belonging, a sense that, in the end, it is all about teamwork. They are, after all, a band of professionals engaging in serious work—work that might have a significant impact on the greater world.

  But Kate was not a part of that team. Competition was the driving force behind her work, which left no room for friends. She never had any friends. Orphaned at two, she had no recollection of her parents. She had never felt a part of anything. She was sent to live with an elderly aunt, her sole living relation, who followed her parents to the grave several years later.

  Her first experience with foster parents was a disappointment. After the recent loss of all of her blood relatives, Kate searched for a place to belong and for someone to love her. Still struggling with her grief, she firmly believed that her foster parents could provide the home she longed for. However, the adoption of a beautiful six-month-old baby girl replaced her standing in her new “family” and she was passed along to another foster home. By that time Kate was a sullen, hardened eight-year-old who did nothing to endear herself to would-be adoptive parents.

  By her early teens she was a ward of the state and was sent to live in an orphanage, living in a dormitory with thirty-two other morose, tough girls. But instead of going down the path of most of the other girls—rebellion, drugs, fights, early pregnancy, repeated attempts to escape— Kate worked out her own, more subtle code of defiance. She had been determined to escape that dispiriting place, but she wasn’t going to do it by crudely knotting together her bedsheets and making a break for the nearest boy, bar, or bus station.

  Young Kate had a plan. And she was smart enough to see that her plan would work. The young, friendless girl took a good, hard look at her world and discovered that it was the winners who got what they wanted in life. Rebelliousness, blindly striking out at authority, might feel good for a moment, it might even make other sulky, disaffected girls look up to you and think you’re cool. But Kate knew that to really get away, to really escape the system, you had to play the system against itself.

  She knew she had to play it cool and obey all the rules to the letter, no matter how petty or silly she might consider them. She had to risk the goody-two-shoes image and the taunts and ostracism that went along with it.

  Kate threw herself into schoolwork, racing through grades at ridiculous speed. She skipped grades twice, once in junior high and once in high school. By the time she was a senior she was auditing classes at a local college.

  A girl of no background, money, or even parents, Kate was courted by colleges all over the country, all of them offering full scholarships. She chose MIT, went to Johns Hopkins Medical School, and did her residency at Peter Bent Brigham in Boston. Once she was a newly minted doctor, she turned her back on lucrative private practice and went into pure research. This brought her to Nichols BioTech, her research, and her absurdly complicated safe.

  If anyone had bothered to think about the makeup of Kate’s cranky disposition, they would have been forced to surmise that she was this way because she had been alone much of her life and had fought tooth-and-nail for everything she had. But they would have ove
rlooked one simple thing about this tough young woman: she had never known a moment of love. No one had ever loved her, and she had never loved anyone else. There was an empty space inside of her where those feelings should have been . . .

  She was wearing a white lab coat over the suit she had worn to the luncheon and was watching the man installing the safe put the final touches on the LED display lock. The safe was certainly an impressive-looking one and yet another way Kate telegraphed to her fellow workers: I’m better than you are.

  “Okay,” the installer said, standing up. “You’re all set. Just type in your password—I won’t look— and that’ll lock this baby up tighter than Fort Knox.”

  Kate looked around the room, making sure that no one was watching her. Beth was working at the far end of the lab, but seemed to be ignoring the little ceremony. Kate punched the code into the keypad. The sequence of numbers were the only ones from her past that meant anything— the date of the death of her parents. This was as close as she would ever get to raising a memorial to them. That done, she stood up and regarded the strongbox as if it were something sacred, like an altar or a reliquary.

  As if she knew that it was now safe to take in what was going on there on the far side of the room, Beth looked up from her work and gazed over at Kate and her new, state-of-the-art safe. It was plain that Beth was offended that Kate trusted no one at Nichols and thought her colleagues would stoop to stealing data.

  And besides, weren’t they all working toward a common goal? Weren’t they supposed to be teammates? Beth walked over and looked at the safe, then at Kate, who clutched some files to her chest, as if she were afraid Beth would snatch them from her.

  “That’s pretty heavy security, isn’t it?” asked Beth. “I think it’s a shame that you think you need it.”