“Anything else I can help you with, sir?” Mrs. Jameson asked, as I perused the data.
I rubbed the corner of the tablet between the tips of my fingers as I looked at her. Thinning my lips in concentration, I extended it back to Mrs. Jameson, “No, that will be all.”
She took the device from me with a gentle tug. “All right, sir.”
After thanking her, I turned to walk back to my office, and as I did I realized I’d need a different sort of help to get to the bottom of my questions about Fiona. The simple fact was it was rare for a hire in her position to slip through without me knowing much about them. And judging by the information in her file, this was especially true of someone with an academic pedigree like hers.
You see, despite my business being worth billions, the industry itself was a relatively small world in terms of the people working in it. In other words, there are a lot more short order cooks on the planet than theoretical physicists, and so I’m usually well-informed about the available talent pool, especially when it's local.
Yet, I’d been consumed with the Link Protocol, so the bottom line was I was playing catch up when it came to Fiona. But that’s okay. I had a secret weapon. And so it was that just after four later that day, I placed a call to the one person who could help. Leaning back in my chair, I ran my fingers through my hair and grabbed a handful of it, holding it in place as she answered.
“Well as I live and breathe, Gabe Hawkins.”
“Danielle, my love, how are you?”
“Much better now,” she cooed.
Danielle Wilson once worked for me. But her true calling was academia. After I made a particularly large grant, I lobbied hard for her to take over as head of the Physics Department at the state college. While I’m sure my contribution helped, in the end she was the one who got the position. She was a brilliant researcher and a beauty as well.
And no, we didn’t… if that’s what you're wondering.
I chuckled at her melodic greeting. “And how is Mr. Wilson? The kids?”
“Oh he’s fine. They all are. How are you, handsome?”
“Excellent. Never better, actually.”
“Oh, well, that’s good to hear,” she said. Danielle let out an exhale as she finished her reply. “What can I do for you?”
“What makes you think I want to do anything except spend the rest of my day talking to you?”
Danielle chuckled. “I wish.”
“In truth, I could use your help with something.”
“All right,” she replied. Her voice grew deep, even throaty as she continued. “You know I’d do anything for you.”
Smirking, I stood from my chair, stretched and got down to my request. By the time I’d finished, I stood near a wall of windows on the opposite side of my office, overlooking downtown. The late afternoon sun warmed my face as I stared into the distance.
“Can you hold for a sec?” she said. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Sure.”
A few minutes later, Danielle returned.
“Okay…” she said, as she began to speak once more. She hummed a bit as she looked through the records, just loud enough so that I could barely make out the sound of her flipping through pieces of paper.
“Anything?”
“Hmm, no,” she replied. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Terrific student. Looks like you’ve got yourself some serious talent, Gabe.”
“Mmm, hmm. Okay. No unusual details, though?”
“Umm, no. I’m not seeing anything here…” her voice trailed off for a moment. I almost interrupted her to cut the call short. But then, she spoke up once again. “Wait, here’s something.”
“What?”
“Well,” Danielle said as she began to summarize snippets of text from the file. “It looks as if she received treatment for depression and anxiety at various times while she was a student here. She also experienced a good bit of illness which forced her to complete some of her classwork from home.”
“I see. Is there any mention as to the reason for the anxiety and depression?”
Danielle stopped shuffling paper as I asked my question.
“Now Gabe, you know I can’t reveal that information to you.”
“What’s wrong Danielle? Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do. That’s not the issue. It’s confidential.”
“I understand.” I said as I turned my back and leaned against the sun warmed glass of my twentieth floor office window. “Well, if it's any help, the project she’s involved in here will likely require some government clearance. If that’s the case, I’ll have to get access to the records anyway.”
Danielle moaned. “Ugh, really?”
“Yes. Really. If there’s something serious in the file, I need to know, Danielle.”
She hemmed and hawed for another moment or two. Finally, she let out a deep exhale before she continued, “I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you, Gabe. This doesn’t go any further than us okay?”
“Of course.”
“All right.” She said. “Well according to what it says here, the issues underlying her anxiety related to health care costs for her grandmother.”
“Oh?”
“Mmm, hmm. Apparently she’s been dealing with cancer off and on for the better part of two decades. At some point, Fiona assumed financial responsibility for her care.”
“Wow. That’s rough. How much debt are we talking about here?”
“Doesn’t say. Something like that though… It’s got to be hundreds of thousands, at least. If not more.”
“Hmm, true.” I said, as I nodded in agreement. “Well, I could see why she’d be anxious. What about the depression?”
“Um… let’s see.” Danielle leafed through a few more pieces of paper until at last, she gasped. “Oh dear. Oh my, this is so sad. Poor thing…”
“What?”
Danielle stifled an audible swallow. After clearing her throat, she continued, “Well, it seems her entire family, her parents and two brothers were killed in a boating accident when she was young.”
“Jesus.” I replied. Well that certainly explained the depression. I mean, losing your entire family at such a young age. It’s understandable. “So she survived somehow?”
“Um, it doesn’t mention anything about what did or didn’t happen to her.”
We both fell silent for several seconds. I’m sure Danielle thought of her own family in the moment and as for me, well, I had a new understanding of my bright young lab hire, Fiona Matthews.
7
Friends Or Enemies? (Fiona)
Since I’d been caught in the midst of staring Gabe up and down as if we were little more than a piece of meat in the conference room the other day, I’d buried myself in my work, keeping to myself as much as possible. Even so, the women who’d caught me ogling him, a couple of my co-workers in the lab, Amanda and Melissa, prodded me about him and what, if anything, was happening between us.
I can’t explain it but something about the two of them made me uneasy. Anyway, despite my misgivings, I made the decision to reserve judgment about them, for the time being.