“We called a tentative truce.”
“And he immediately asked you out? And you saidyes? Who are you and what have you done with Claire Vanderlaan?”
“It’s not a date,” Claire said as a human woman stepped past them to the hostess stand. “We set platonic terms, and I shouldn’t have mentioned it—”
“Oh, you definitely should have—”
“And I’m not going to say another word about it. Now come on, let’s get in line for a table.”
Nine
The next two days were a flurry at work—constant phone calls, encouraging and petitioning for the foundation that meant so much to him and to hundreds of humans who had no chance at research and treatments without the work of the Josie Strong Foundation. Meanwhile he kept up with the emails and phone calls to his committed donors, updating them on a recent bill for medical research funding and asking them to call their Senators.
Toward the end of work on Thursday, he joined his donors in using his voice and called one of the men he’d voted for.
“You’ve reached the local office of Senator Laurence Maddox. How may I direct your call?”
“Hi, Colleen, it’s Tai Kristiansen.”
“Oh, Mr. Kristiansen, hello! I believe the senator is currently in his office. Would you like me to forward you to his desk?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
“Not a problem. Please hold the line.”
The phone rang a few times, and then the booming voice of Ryker’s dad filled Tai’s office via Speaker mode. “Tai! Is that you, son?”
“Yes, sir. How are you?”
“Well, my staff tells me we’ve had more than the usual calls about that resolution of yours.” The rumble of a laugh came with the sort of warm affection Tai could always find with Laurence and Senna Maddox. They didn’t know it, but they’d become his parents in every way that mattered. “So I assume you’re calling me for the same reason, unless it’s to invite yourself to a Sunday dinner with the family—which you don’t need to do. You’re always welcome to pop in.”
“I know, sir, and I appreciate it.” More than he could hope to express. He swallowed a sudden tightness in his throat. “I’ll take you up on it soon. Meanwhile, you got me. I’m calling about S.R. 678.”
“I’ve got every intention of supporting it, Tai. There’s a doctor of genetic disorders—you probably know her, Dr. Julia Miller?”
“I do, yeah. She does a lot of work with one of the disorders we’re focused on.”
“I figured as much. Anyway, she started at one of the town halls, and then she pushed on until she got a face-to-face with me. She had some really compelling data on this thing. I don’t see how we can afford not to pass it.”
“Well, it’ll cost some money.” And plenty of politicians looked only at dollar signs, especially when they could reward the investors who’d got them elected.
Laurence said, “We’ve got it to spend with very little adjusting of the budget, and it could make a huge difference to these folks dealing with the disease.”
“Well, I don’t know why I called you, Laurence.” Tai leaned back in his chair and grinned at the ceiling. “Here you are, pitching the resolution to me.”
Laurence’s booming laugh filled the office. That laugh always flooded Tai’s system with affection, gratitude, and so much love he could hardly contain the feelings that swamped his chest.
“Okay, that’s settled then,” Laurence said. “You’ve got a yes from this elder vampire. Now I want a commitment from you, Tai. You coming for dinner this Sunday or not?”
“If not this Sunday, then the next.”
“I’ll inform Senna. She won’t be happy with your hedging.”
“It’s not a hedge. My commitment is to one or the other.”
They talked a bit longer, and when Tai hung up, the clock had crept past five. He locked up his office, reminded his salaried assistant to go home too, and set out for home. He made quick work of getting dressed, and then he had to pace his penthouse waiting for the time to start driving toward Claire’s. She lived slightly outside the downtown hub he loved so much—despite its noise and odors, which he’d never fully adjusted to. The walkable sections, proximity to his office, the extensive parks, and the many restaurants within a mile of home were worth the occasional sensory overload.
To pass the time, he took a seat at his piano and began to play. He started with two movements of Beethoven’s Sonatina No. 37 and ended by improvising something that tried and failed to resemble Duke Ellington. By then he could start driving without arriving too early and looking too eager.
