"I'll give you what cash I have on me," Dr. Patterson said. "You can take the car. There's no need for violence. If—"

David had slid into the front seat. "This isn't a holdup. I don't want the car."

Dr. Patterson was looking at him with annoyance. "What the hell do you want?"

"My name is Singer. My mother's dying. I want you to save her."

There was a flicker of relief on Dr. Patterson's face, replaced by a look of anger. "Make an appointment with my—"

"There's no time to make a goddamn appointment" David was yelling. "She's going to die, and I'm not going to let that happen." He was fighting to control himself. "Please. The other doctors told me you're the only hope we have."

Dr. Patterson was watching him, still wary. "What's her problem?"

"She has a—a ruptured cord in her mitral valve. The doctors are afraid to operate. They say that you're the only one who can save her life." Dr. Patterson shook his head. "My schedule—"

"I don't give a shit about your schedule! This is my mother. You've got to save her! She's all have...."

There was a long silence. David sat there, his eyes tightly shut. He heard Dr. Patterson's voice.

"I won't promise a damn thing, but I'll see her. Where is she?"

David turned to look at him. "She's in the intensive care unit at San Francisco Memorial Hospital."

"Meet me there at eight o'clock tomorrow morning." David had difficulty finding his voice. "I don't know how to—"

"Remember, I'm not promising anything. And don't appreciate being scared out of my wits, young man. Next time, try the telephone."

David sat there, rigid. Dr. Patterson looked at him. "What?"

"There's another problem."

"Oh, really?"

"I—I don't have any money. I'm a law student, and I'm working my way through law school." Dr. Patterson was staring at him. David said passionately, "I swear I'll find a way to pay you back. If it takes all my life, I'll see that you get paid know how expensive you are, and I—"

"I don't think you do, son."

"I have no one else to torn to, Dr. Patterson. I—I'm begging you." There was another silence. "How many years of law school have you had?"

"None. I'm just starting."

"But you expect to be able to pay me back?"

"I swear it."

"Get the hell out."

When David got home, he was certain he was going to be picked up by the police for kidnapping, threatening bodily harm, God only knew what. But nothing happened. The question in his mind was whether Dr. Patterson was going to show up at the hospital.

When David walked into the intensive care ward the next morning. Dr. Patterson was there, examining David's mother.

David watched, his heart pounding, his throat dry.

Dr. Patterson turned to one of a group of doctors standing there. "Get her up to the operating room, Al. Stat!"

As they started to slide David's mother onto a gurney, David said hoarsely, "Is she—?"

"We'll see."

Six hours later, David was in the waiting room when Dr. Patterson approached him.

David jumped to his feet. "How is—?" He was afraid to finish the question.

"She's going to be fine. Your mother's a strong lady."

David stood there, filled with an overpowering sense of relief. He breathed a silent prayer. Thank you, God.

Dr. Patterson was watching him. "I don't even know your first name."

"David, sir."

"Well, David sir, do you know why decided to do this?"

"No…"

"Two reasons. Your mother's condition was a challenge for me. I like challenges. The second reason was you."

"I—I don't understand."

"What you did was the kind of thing I might have done myself when I was younger. You showed imagination. Now"—his tone changed—"you said you were going to repay me." David's heart sank. "Yes, sir. One day—"

"How about now?" David swallowed. "Now?"

"I'll make you a deal. Do you know how to drive?"

"Yes, sir..."

"All right. I get tired of driving that big car around. You drive me to work every morning and pick me up at six or seven o'clock every evening for one year. At the end of that time, I'll consider my fee paid...."

That was the deal. David drove Dr. Patterson to the office and back home every day, and in exchange. Dr. Patterson saved the life of David's mother.

During that year, David learned to revere Dr. Patterson. Despite the doctor's occasional outbursts of temper, he was the most selfless man David had ever known. He was heavily involved in charity work and donated his spare time to free clinics. Driving to and from the office or hospital, he and David had long talks. "What kind of law are you studying, David?"

"Criminal law."

"Why? So you can help the damn scoundrels get off scot-free?"

"No, sir. There are a lot of honest people caught up in the law who need help want to help them."

When the year was up. Dr. Patterson shook David's hand and said, "We're even...."

David had not seen Steven Patterson in years, but he kept coming across his name.

"Dr. Steven Patterson opened a free clinic for babies with AIDS...."

"Dr. Steven Patterson arrived in Kenya today to open the Patterson Medical Center...."

"Work on the Patterson Charity Shelter began today... "

He seemed to be everywhere, donating his time and his money to those who needed him.

Sandra's voice shook David out of his reverie. "David. Are you all right?"

He turned away from the television set "They've just arrested Steven Patterson's daughter for those serial killings."

Sandra said, "That's terrible! I'm so sorry, darling."

"He gave Mother seven more years of a wonderful life. It's unfair that anything like that should happen to a man like him. He's the greatest gentleman I've ever known, Sandra. He doesn't deserve this. How could he have a monster like that for a daughter?" He looked at his watch. "Damn! I'm going to be late."

"You haven't had breakfast."

"I'm too upset to eat." He glanced toward the television set. "This... and today's partnership day...."

"You're going to get it. There's no question about."

"There's always a question about it, honey. Every year, someone who's supposed to be a shoo-in winds up in the loser's box."

She bugged him and said, "They'll be lucky to have you."

He leaned over and kissed her. "Thanks, baby. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to. You'll call me as soon as you get the news, won't you, David?"

"Of course I will. We'll go out and celebrate." And the words reverberated in his mind. Years ago, he had said to someone else, "We'll go out and celebrate. " And he had lolled her.

The offices of Kincaid, Turner, Rose & Ripley occupied three floors in the TransAmerica Pyramid in downtown San Francisco. When David Singer walked through the doors, he was greeted with knowing smiles. It seemed to him that there was even a different quality in the "good mornings." They knew they were addressing a future partner in the firm.

On the way to his small office, David passed the newly decorated office that would belong to one of the chosen partners, and he could not resist looking inside. It was a large, beautiful office with a private washroom, a desk and chairs facing a picture window with a magnificent view of the Bay. He stood there a moment, drinking it in.

When David walked into his office, his secretary, Holly, said, "Good morning, Mr. Singer." There was a lilt in her voice. "Good morning, Holly."

"I have a message for you."

"Yes?"

"Mr. Kincaid would like to see you in his office at five o'clock." She broke into a broad smile.

So it was really happening. "Great!"

She moved closer to David and said, "I think I should also tell you, I had coffee with Dorothy, Mr. Kincaid's secretary, this morning. She says you're at the top of the list."