Page 40 of Remembering Passion

“Hello, George and Benjamin,” we answered in unison.

George was apparently the speaker of the two. “Is the wine to your liking? I would be happy to get you…” He went on and on...

Damien’s impatience began to show as George recited every special including the multitude of ways they could be cooked. It was as George was gilding the lily of the numerous side-dish options that Damien finally lifted his hand.

“Thank you, George. We will share tuna tartare. The lady will have your Mediterranean salmon with a Caesar salad, and broiled asparagus. I will have your Wagyu filet, nine ounce, medium rare, with lobster Maxwell and a wedge salad.”

“Very well.”

“Excuse me,” I said with a placating smile. “I’ve changed my mind.” Not that I’d ever stated what I wanted. I hadn’t even looked at a menu until George started speaking. “I’ll have the Wagyu filet also. Make mine the six ounce, cooked medium, but instead of lobster Maxwell, I’ll take mine with crab Oscar. And I don’t need a salad.”

George nodded. “Very well.” He looked to both of us. “Tuna tartare?”

We both nodded.

“We’ll serve the bread first. Is there anything else I can bring you?”

Instead of answering, Damien lifted a brow and tilted his head toward me. “Is everything to your liking—in case you’ve changed your mind?”

“Please bring two checks. Oh yes, now I think I’m good.” I opened my eyes wide. “I wouldn’t want to speak for you, though.”

His lips came together as if he were trying to suppress a smile. “I believe we’re good for now.” He lifted one finger.

George nodded.

When the door closed, Damien’s laugh filled the room. “What did I say Saturday about your take-charge sexy side?” He lifted his glass. “That’s right, I said it was fucking hot.”

“You’re mistaken. I’m not trying to be hot. We’re also not on a date. I am capable of ordering my own meal and paying for it. Now, talk to me about the campaign.”

“The details have been finalized with Beta Kappa Phi.”

Details regarding my assignment. “I’m the one you want working at Sinclair Corporate. Unless you plan on one member or all of the legal team working there, they aren’t the final word. Start talking.”

His head shook only slightly. It was mostly visible in the way his dark blond hair moved. After a sigh, Damien refilled both of our glasses. “Here’s the thing,” he began. “The coalition consists of seven smaller pharmaceutical companies. In the two years since its inception, we’ve had continued success in our lobbying effectiveness as well as the ability to reach legislators who ultimately vote on our individual specialty drugs. Beta Kappa Phi can work as an adjunct, reaching people and organizations that we aren’t able to reach.”

“Are there any legal issues with this proposed campaign?”

“No.” He hesitated. “What we’ve faced is more of an ethical dilemma.”

“You want Beta Kappa Phi to breach ethical boundaries?”

“No. Think about your gala Saturday night.”

I nodded.

“You worked the room. You exceeded your donation goal. Now, imagine doing the same thing, working not only donors, but the facilities and specialists who prescribe our formulas. Talk to them about Beta Kappa Phi’s campaigns, those that assist with medical expenses, that work to improve access to care, hell…invent new campaigns. Then as you implement the campaigns, let the executive board or the officers of the facilities know that our coalition has made your work possible. Along the way, let them know about our different signature formulas. It’s like the saying, I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine.”

“You basically want me to lobby to the people we help?”

He shook his head. “The people the fraternity aids need your help. There are more people who could benefit from Beta Kappa Phi. That’s where we, the coalition, come in. It’s not the patients or clients who you will be lobbying. You will alert the administration of the facilities that your good work is made possible by the coalition. For example, if Beta Kappa Phi is helping to pay for treatment.” He pressed his lips into a straight line. “For cancer treatment?”

I nodded.

“Beta Kappa Phi reimburses the facility, not the client, correct?”

“Correct. Different facilities work closer with us. The cost is prorated. And giving to the client would cause tax problems for many of them who can’t afford that.”

“Prorated,” he repeated, “because you work with that facility.”

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