Menus were passed around. Bennett got a call and rudely handled it at the table. Some deal was falling through. The future of America’s financial freedom hung in the balance.

“What should I wear?” Barb asked Rebecca as Clay hid behind his menu.

“Something new,” Rebecca said.

“You’re right,” Barb readily agreed. “Let’s go shopping Saturday.”

“Good idea.”

Bennett saved the deal, and they ordered. He graced them with the details of the phone call—a bank was not moving fast enough, he had to light a fire, blah, blah. This went on until the salads arrived.

After a few bites, Bennett said, with his mouth full, as usual, “While I was down in Richmond, I had lunch with my close friend Ian Ludkin, Speaker of the House. You’d really like this guy, Clay, a real prince of a man. A perfect Virginia gentleman.”

Clay chewed and nodded as if he couldn’t wait to meet all of Bennett’s good friends.

“Anyway, Ian owes me some favors, most of them do down there, and so I just popped the question.”

It took Clay a second to realize that the women had stopped eating. Their forks were at rest as they watched and listened with anticipation.

“What question?” Clay asked because it seemed that they were expecting him to say something.

“Well, I told him about you, Clay. Bright young lawyer, sharp as a tack, hard worker, Georgetown Law School, handsome young man with real character, and he said he was always looking for new talent. God knows it’s hard to find. Said he has an opening for a staff attorney. I said I had no idea if you’d be interested, but I’d be happy to run it by you. Whatta you think?”

I think I’m being ambushed, Clay almost blurted.

Rebecca was staring at him, watching closely for the first reaction.

According to the script, Barb said, “That sounds wonderful.”

Talented, bright, hardworking, well educated, even handsome. Clay was amazed at how fast his stock had risen. “That’s interesting,” he said, somewhat truthfully. Every aspect of it was interesting.

Bennett was ready to pounce. He, of course, held the advantage of surprise. “It’s a great position. Fascinating work. You’ll meet the real movers and shakers down there. Never a dull moment. Lots of long hours, though, at least when the legislature is in session, but I told Ian that you had broad shoulders. Pile on the responsibilities.”

“What, exactly, would I be doing?” Clay managed to get out.

“Oh, I don’t know all that lawyer stuff. But, if you’re interested, Ian said he’d be happy to arrange an interview. It’s a hot ticket, though. He said the resumes were flooding in. Gotta move quick.”

“Richmond’s not that far away,” Barb said.

It’s a helluva lot closer than New Zealand, Clay thought. Barb was already planning the wedding. He couldn’t read Rebecca. At times she felt strangled by her parents, but rarely showed any desire to get away from them. Bennett used his money, if indeed he had any left, as a carrot to keep both daughters close to home.

“Well, uh, thanks, I guess,” Clay said, collapsing under the weight of his newly bestowed broad shoulders.

“Starting salary is ninety-four thousand a year,” Bennett said, an octave or two lower so the other diners couldn’t hear.

Ninety-four thousand dollars was more than twice as much as Clay was currently earning, and he assumed that everyone at the table knew it. The Van Horns worshiped money and were obsessed with salaries and net worths.

“Wow,” Barb said, on cue.

“That’s a nice salary,” Clay admitted.

“Not a bad start,” Bennett said. “Ian says you’ll meet the big lawyers in town. Contacts are everything. Do it a few years, and you’ll be able to write your own ticket in corporate law. That’s where the big money is, you know.”

It was not comforting to know that Bennett Van Horn had suddenly taken an interest in planning the rest of Clay’s life. The planning, of course, had nothing to do with Clay, and everything to do with Rebecca.

“How can you say no?” Barb said, prodding with two left feet.

“Don’t push, Mother,” Rebecca said.

“It’s just such a wonderful opportunity,” Barb said, as if Clay couldn’t see the obvious.

“Kick it around, sleep on it,” Bennett said. The gift had been delivered. Let’s see if the boy is smart enough to take it.

Clay was devouring his salad with a new purpose. He nodded as if he couldn’t speak. The second Scotch arrived and broke up the moment. Bennett then shared the latest gossip from Richmond about the possibility of a new professional baseball franchise for the D.C. area, one of his favorite topics. He was on the fringes of one of three investment groups jockeying for the franchise, if and when one was ever approved, and he thrived on knowing the latest developments.

According to a recent article in the Post, Bennett’s group was in third place and losing ground by the month. Their finances were unclear, downright shaky, according to one unnamed source, and throughout the article the name of Bennett Van Horn was never mentioned. Clay knew he had enormous debts. Several of his developments had been stalled by environmental groups trying to preserve whatever land was left in Northern Virginia. He had lawsuits raging against former partners. His stock was practically worthless. Yet there he sat slugging down Scotch and yapping away about a new stadium for $400 million and a franchise fee of $200 million and a payroll of at least $100 million.

Their steaks arrived just when the salads were finished, thus sparing Clay another tortured moment of conversation with nothing to stuff in his mouth. Rebecca was ignoring him and he was certainly ignoring her. The fight would come very soon.

There were stories about the Guv, a close personal friend who was putting his machine in place to run for the Senate and of course he wanted Bennett in the middle of things. A couple of his hottest deals were revealed. There was talk of a new airplane, but this had been going on for some time and Bennett just couldn’t find the one he wanted. The meal seemed to last for two hours, but only ninety minutes had passed when they declined dessert and started wrapping things up.

Clay thanked Bennett and Barb for the food and promised again to move quickly on the job down in Richmond. “The chance of a lifetime,” Bennett said gravely. “Don’t screw it up.”

When Clay was certain they were gone, he asked Rebecca to step into the bar for a minute. They waited for their drinks to arrive before either spoke. When things were tense both had the tendency to wait for the other to fire first.

“I didn’t know about the job in Richmond,” she began.

“I find that hard to believe. Seems like the entire family was in on the deal. Your mother certainly knew about it.”

“My father is just concerned about you, that’s all.”

Your father is an idiot, he wanted to say. “No, he’s concerned about you. Can’t have you marrying a guy with no future, so he’ll just manage the future for us. Don’t you think it’s presumptuous to decide he doesn’t like my job so he’ll find me another one?”

“Maybe he’s just trying to help. He loves the favors game.”

“But why does he assume I need help?”

“Maybe you do.”

“I see. Finally the truth.”

“You can’t work there forever, Clay. You’re good at what you do and you care about your clients, but maybe it’s time to move on. Five years at OPD is a long time. You’ve said so yourself.”

“Maybe I don’t want to live in Richmond. Perhaps I’ve never thought about leaving D.C. What if I don’t want to work under one of your father’s cronies? Suppose the idea of being surrounded by a bunch of local politicians does not appeal to me? I’m a lawyer, Rebecca, not a paper pusher.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

“Is this job an ultimatum?”

“In what way?”

“In every way. What if I say no?”