Tad straightened a little. “They were something of a shock,” he admitted. He tried to keep his voice neutral but his heart beat faster. This couldn’t be the type of break he was hoping for, could it?
“Simply put, Mr. White would like to take care of the issue for you,” Metcalfe went on. “Some of the bills can be negotiated—they can always be negotiated, can’t they?” He gave a charming laugh. “But that can still leave a great deal. Mr. White doesn’t want that to add to your family’s burden right now.”
“That’s very generous, sir.” There was a moment where Tad felt like he could breathe again for the first time since the police had called him. The house he and Mary had fixed up together was safe. Their nest egg would survive this.
But then he remembered who he was talking to.
He didn’t want to say something to ruin his mental image, but he needed to. The mirage needed to disappear before he grew too attached to it. He had the vague idea that if he merely thanked the man and hung up the phone before he could tell him the quid pro quo, he might be too embarrassed to call back…but he knew that wouldn’t work.
“And what does Mr. White want in return?” he asked evenly.
If he hoped to embarrass Metcalfe, he was disappointed.
“As you know, Senator, the regulatory market in Washington can be fickle. Reasonable business interests often take a back seat.”
“Yes.” Tad did know that.
Unfortunately, he was fairly sure he and Metcalfe did not agree on the definition of the term “reasonable business interests.”
“IterNext works hard to make sure their products and services provide groundbreaking medical care,” the man told him. He seemed to have settled into the presentation now. “They give America the next generation of advances, and they want to help as many people as possible live long, healthy lives.”
He wouldn’t be able to get out of this without the full spiel, would he? Tad darted a sad look at the coffee machine. He really should have started it before the call. Lesson learned.
“Mr. Metcalfe, it’s been a very busy morning—”
“Of course, Senator. To be very direct with you, Mr. White has no idea of the next time one of IterNext’s lifesaving products will be unfairly blocked in the senate.”
It took a long moment for him to realize what the lobbyist was saying. He’d expected a sales pitch and had hoped against hope that it would be something he could support in good conscience, and this was anything but.
“He wants a blank check.” His voice had begun to harden and he told himself not to get angry. Dru Metcalfe had something to offer, and it was something he desperately needed. Without the man’s help, where would he find another offer like this?
But was the price tag one he could pay in good conscience? Especially when he couldn’t know what it would entail until it happened.
“Mr. White merely needs to know that he has someone he can count on to make common-sense decisions,” Metcalfe said soothingly. “Too many senators end up choosing their stance before they even know the facts of a case. Knowing there’s someone who can listen to reason will be a weight off his mind.”
Go to hell. Or…what was it he’d overheard Justin say on his headset the other day? Get in the sea? He wanted to say it so badly. This was the type of thing he’d planned to say since the day he decided to run for the senate. That was why he’d gone into politics, dammit. Too many people were bought, captive to interests that weren’t only neutral to voters but actively went entirely against the voters’ interests.
Tad picked up a picture from his desk—Justin, aged five and in a life vest, grinned from the deck of his uncle’s boat.
He needs you right now. And he especially needs you to not be a hothead. There’s a line you can walk.
With the terrible sense that this was how it all began for too many people, he finally said, “I’ll think about it, Mr. Metcalfe. If you’re ever in the area, do stop by my office.”
“Of course, Senator Williams. And again, we’re all praying for Justin.”
“Thank you.” He placed the phone down.
He needed…he didn’t know what he needed. For a brief moment, he had the mental image of sitting at Justin’s bedside and asking him what he should do. But his son couldn’t answer right now and even if