The Program

"GSBM?"

"Graziado School of Business Management."

"Would you be allowed to disclose when a particular student first came in?"

"Absolutely not."

A girl emerged from a back room, the floor creaking with her steps. She shuffled to get around Tim, but there wasn't much room. "I'm sorry to interrupt."

"That's okay," Robbie said. "We were just wrapping up. Maybe you could show the gentleman out." She busied herself clearing her desk.

When it was clear Robbie wasn't going to acknowledge him again, Tim followed the girl out. She held the door for him but stumbled over a potted plant when she turned. Tim caught her arm to steady her, and she let out an embarrassed giggle. "Sorry. I'm such a klutz. I get nervous, you know, when people see me here. I always think they're wondering what's wrong with me -" She blushed. "God, shut up, Shanna."

"You should see me waiting at the clinic for my results to come back."

Shanna stared at him, eyebrows raised, and then her face broke into a smile and she hit him lightly on the arm.

They walked down the ramp together. Two girls sat talking in a Range Rover parked in the first row of the lot beside Tim's Acura, not ten yards from the trailer's entrance. The therapy rooms emptied out directly into a major campus parking lot.

So much for absolute confidentiality.

"I just transferred in from Brigham Young this semester. It's kind of…not been the easiest transition, you know? Are you a student here? You seem old. I mean, not that way, but…" Shanna's face colored again, her hand over her mouth. Substantial diamond studs gleamed in her ears. "Just don't pay attention to me, okay?"

The front doors of the Range Rover opened simultaneously. The two girls climbed out and headed toward them, the long-limbed driver smoothing a paisley cotton skirt over her underlying bell-bottom jeans. Tim figured them for friends of Shanna's – they'd clearly been waiting, keeping an eye on the Student Counseling Center.

The shorter girl wore a red T-shirt under a pair of overalls, her hair thrown back in a ponytail. "Hey, there. How you guys doing today?"

"Good," Shanna said uncertainly.

"I'm Julie, and this is Lorraine. We're having a group gathering tomorrow night at our apartment, and we wanted to invite you guys."

They showed off perfect smiles.

"Oh," Shanna said. "That's nice."

Lorraine reached out and touched Tim gently, her well-manicured nails tapping his forearm. "We're gonna have a great talk and drinks and everything."

Tim's mind moved instinctively to intolerance, hardwired from years of dealing with pyramid schemers, religious zealots, time-share hucksters. He was about to open his mouth to issue his customary rebuff when realization struck.

Julie, voice lowered with compassion, patted Shanna on the side. "You seem a little down."

Tim turned with Lorraine, who was beaming brightly and strolling to his side, facing him flirtatiously across the ball of her shoulder. Her auburn hair was pulled back severely in a clip so it conformed tightly to the shape of her head. He strained to hear Shanna's response to Julie, but Lorraine, still circling, said, "You're a bit mature to be a student here, aren't you?"

He feigned bashfulness. Putting his hands behind him, he worked off his wedding band and dropped it in the back pocket of his jeans. "Well, I hooked up with a great counselor when I went to GSBM. She still sees me on the side now and then when I hit a bump in the road."

Lorraine's eyes fluttered wide. "GSBM? I love business. A lot of us do. We're going to talk about things tomorrow night that could really help your career."

Shanna was now out of sight behind his back; Julie and Lorraine had skillfully maneuvered them apart so they were facing opposite directions.

Isolating the prey.

Lorraine nodded at the Student Counseling Center. "Sorry to hear that things are kind of shitty right now." She stroked his forearm again, lightly. Smelling of a fruity, pricey skin cream, she stood to his side, lipstick glimmering moistly, torso swaying slightly so her firm breasts moved beneath the sweetheart neckline of her blouse. Since the girls had approached in a team of two, Lorraine's come-on felt not threatening, but friendly and flattering. A confused college kid wouldn't stand a chance.

Campuses teem with predators – rapists, muggers, stalkers. But this particular brand, so appealingly packaged, was all the more insidious for its harmless demeanor.

Behind him he heard Julie say, "Your haircut's the bomb."

And Shanna's nervous giggle. "Thanks. I just got it done at Frederic Fekkai."

A whispered joke. The girls laughed together. Tim wanted to turn to look, but Lorraine was drilling him with eye contact. Though the two recruiters acted almost identically, Lorraine was less soft than Julie, the strings of her manipulation more visible.

Julie was the lure, Lorraine the closer.

"Anything you want to talk about?" Lorraine asked.

Tim chewed his lip, as if debating whether he should open up. "It's still hard for me to say, but I got, uh, divorced a few months ago -"

"That sucks. It must have been terrible."

"Pretty rough, yeah. And on top of it, work's been insanely stressful. I started up this little company a few years ago and grew it pretty aggressively. We were just bought out, which is great, but the ride hasn't exactly been relaxing, and now I'm sort of at loose ends about what to do with myself."

Her face held a predatory elation. "Having a company bought out? At your age? That's incredible." A warm smile. "What's your name? I want to remember it when I see it in the Wall Street Journal."

Tim fished out the last fake identity he'd used. "Tom Altman."

"We'd really love to have someone like you join us tomorrow. Will you come?"

"What kind of thing is it?"

"Just a lot of cool people hanging out, figuring out how to improve ourselves. That's important to you, isn't it?"

"I don't know." Tim shook his head. "It sounds a little weird."

"I bet you didn't get a company bought out by thinking inside the box."

"Nope. I did it by figuring out how to fit square pegs in round holes."

Tom Altman, dream Neo.

Lorraine said, "There ya go."

"Hey." Shanna was on her tiptoes, looking at him over Julie's shoulder. "What do you think? Are you gonna go? I'll go if you do."

Julie grinned. "It's gonna be really eye-opening, Tom." Even while working Shanna, she'd kept an ear out for his name. "What do you say?"

"Sure," he said. "I'll check it out."

Lorraine and Julie squealed with delight. "Great call! I promise it'll be worthwhile."

Julie wrote down the address for Tim. Lorraine offered Shanna a ride back to her dorm, and they all turned to the parking lot. Tim stopped short. Dinged and dented beside the Range Rover, the Acura Integra was not a car befitting Tom Altman. Not a car befitting a deputy U.S. marshal either – Tim had pulled it out of a junkyard last year when he'd needed an untraceable vehicle. He hesitated, not wanting to broadcast ownership.

The three headed to the Range Rover. It was new – no license plate to memorize.

Julie glanced back. "You need a lift to your car or something?"

"No. I think I left my keys inside."

As he started back toward the trailer, the Range Rover pulled out behind him, Shanna waving from the backseat.