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I conducted the interview, turning on my iPhone's recorder. I asked questions about how the foundation started, where it had its main projects, how it choose hospitals to fund, the usual questions I needed to write my article. I asked him what he thought were the most successful projects and he responded, articulate, informed, and helpful. For once, he talked to me as a person, not a Don Juan, and I wondered why. Had Drake said something to him?
"I just checked out our projects, and we have twenty currently open."
"Wow," I said. "That's quite a lot going on."
"We're very busy. When I'm not fundraising, I spend most of my time coordinating shipments of surgical implements and supplies. Dr. Morgan donates a lot of his own money as well as raising funds from other donors. He keeps me busy."
"Well, I guess that's it," I said and turned off my iPhone voice recorder. "Thank you so much for this. I really appreciate it."
Before I could rise to leave, Drake Morgan entered the café from the street. Still dressed in his scrubs and white lab coat, he stopped at the front and glanced around the café before spying us in the rear. When his eyes met mine, I felt my cheeks heat. I quickly gathered up my things. I did not want to have to talk to him.
He was just too good looking and powerful.
"Thank you for coming down, Kate," Dave said, extending his hand. I had to shake, but he didn't lean down and kiss my hand. I just smiled back, anxious to see if Drake came to our table and if I could escape before he did.
I couldn't. He walked over and before I could leave, he came up behind Dave and laid a hand on his shoulder, a smile on his face.
"There you are," he said. "I was wondering if I'd make it down in time."
"We just finished," I said and shrugged, smiling in relief.
He nodded, his lips pressed a bit thin. "I told Mr. Mills that I'd be right over and he was supposed to wait and let me do the interview." He made a face at Dave and then turned to me and caught my eye. "Perhaps you could stay behind for a moment so we can speak alone."
I glanced at Dave, who smiled sheepishly. "I didn't want you to waste your time in case Drake wasn't able to get away from the hospital. Sometimes his surgeries take longer than planned. Nice talking to you again, Kate. Good interview."
I watched as he left the café, closing the door behind him.
I turned back to Drake. He didn't sit in Dave's vacated chair across from me but the one next to mine, his arm on the back of my chair. He looked at me directly.
"Well," I said after a moment when he did nothing and said nothing, just sat there looking at me. "I'm here. What did you want to talk about?" I forced a smile.
"How's your ankle? Your knees?" He peered down at my legs, which were covered by tights under my short jean skirt.
"Almost all better."
"Good."
We smiled at each other and I finally sighed. "So? You wanted to speak with me?"
"I just wanted to offer you the chance to ask me anything now that I'm here," he said, his voice low, soft.
"I think I got everything I need from Mr. Mills."
"You don't want to hear my side of things? Considering it's my father's foundation…"
I sighed
. I really should ask him some of the more personal questions I skipped because I was interviewing Dave instead of him.
"I do have a few questions, more about motivation." I took out my iPhone and started the recording. I took in a deep breath. "Can you tell me why he started this foundation?"
He moved his chair a bit closer, and leaned in as if he wanted to say something personal. He was a bit too close for my comfort.
"He was a socialist, committed to eradicating poverty. He didn't expect to become rich and so when he did, he poured almost every extra cent into helping hospitals in third world countries, especially Africa. He said something about unequal development and capitalist exploitation – you'd know more about that than me."
I frowned, not certain I knew what he meant, but not wanting to push him.
"The Foundation continues his work today. Everything we do in the Foundation," he said, "is to try to fulfill my father's vision, even if only in a small way. He was so committed to his causes. He made a lot of money, and his company is still making a lot of money. I know he'd want it to be put to good use. He hated being rich and gave most of his money away. We lived in the same apartment all my life, once my mother left. He lived off his salary as a trauma surgeon, which while high, was nothing compared to what his company made."
