The brothers Ford were waiting for him at a corner table in Shakespeare’s Steak and Chop House on West 53rd. Sam had met them both before, on numerous occasions, but had never spoken to either man for more than a minute or so. They were in the news a lot these days, with the election approaching. Other than the fact that they were both tall and seventy-something, they didn’t look like brothers. Bill was balding and dark, while the younger Ken was fair, with curly red hair. Ken had a reputation for not saying much. Bill wore a polo shirt while Ken was old school shirt and tie.
“We haven’t ordered,” Bill said when Sam sat down. “We were waiting on you.”
“If I’m in Shakespeare’s I’m having a steak,” Sam said. The waiter was standing a few feet away. “And a Macallan to start. You might as well make it a double, save the wear and tear on your shoes, son.”
Sam was aware that neither of the Fords drank and were in fact openly critical of it. Sam didn’t give a shit.
“So what’s going on, boys?”
“You heard the news about Harry Peakes,” Bill said.
Sam nodded. “Another of the old guard gone. He was a good one.”
“He lost his fastball years ago, but he’ll be missed nonetheless,” Bill said. “However, there’s a bigger concern here. Peakes was up for re-election in November. The Dems have a pretty strong candidate in this man Barton. They’re already making noise about the age issue.”
“And now he’s not just old, he’s dead,” Sam said. The waiter set the scotch down and Sam had a drink. “So who are you going to plug in there? And how can I help?”
Bill looked at Ken, who cleared his throat. “You’re extremely popular in Wyoming, Sam.”
Sam took a moment, wondering why he was being told this. “Well, that’s my demographic.”
“There was a time we wouldn’t have thought this possible,” Bill said.
Sam looked from one brother to the other. “You wouldn’t have thought what was possible?”
“All of this, to be frank,” Bill told him. “We didn’t think that Trump was possible and look where we are. As for yourself, you’re riding a wave. You’re Huey Long right now.”
Sam laughed. “Show me the demographic that knows who that is these days.”
“They might not recognize the name but they know what appeals to them. We’ve been watching, and we’ve been talking about you. We think you could win that seat.”
Sam had another drink. He hadn’t known what to expect being summoned here, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. “Is it wise—to be parachuting somebody in?”
“It is a risk, yeah,” Bill said. “But either way, we have to introduce somebody brand new. We need a candidate with a familiar face. I have a house outside of Laramie. It could be in your name by tomorrow morning.”
Sam laughed. “Well, shit. What the hell am I going to do in Congress? A good place for a man to get lost in the shuffle.”
“Some men maybe,” Bill said. “But the President likes you. I know for a fact that he wanted you part of his team but it was a numbers game. You know—take one from Row A, one from Row B, that sort of thing. You got lost in the shuffle. But he has not forgotten you, Sam, and what you did for him in ’16. If you won the seat, you’d be looking at a cabinet post.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose at this. “What kind of post would a congressman from Wyoming rate? I’m not looking to become secretary of horse troughs.”
“A significant post,” Bill said. “Listen, the way it stands right now, the Democrats have a good chance to take that seat.”
“What about the widow?” Sam asked. “Couldn’t she win on the name alone?”
“She’s the same age as Harry,” Bill said. “If they were iffy on him because of that, they won’t vote for her, with no experience. And she’s not interested anyway. Look, we’ve been watching this situation for a couple of months. Harry was sick. We were hoping he’d make it to November but, if he didn’t, we’ve been considering contingency plans. We thought we had a young state senator warming in the bullpen but he forgot to tell us about some Me Too issues.”
Sam laughed. “Even movie stars aren’t getting away with that these days.”
“We’ve done some polling out there, Sam,” Ken went on. “You’re a bit of a folk hero with this all bets are off stuff. This is doable.”
“It is?” Sam asked. “How does it work timewise? How soon do you need to announce?”
“Soon,” Bill said. “Election day is six weeks away.”
“We’re going to be honest with you,” Ken said. “All of these trends are fleeting. In spite of this alleged information age, your average citizen has the attention span of a gnat. At this moment in time, you’re the cat’s pajamas, Sam. Two years from now might be a different story but right now we see you as our best bet.” He paused. “We’re ready to commit five million dollars today to your campaign.”
Sam had been waiting for the number. He’d known it was coming. From the moment they’d broached the subject he’d known. They wouldn’t be suggesting it if they weren’t going to pick up the tab. Five million seemed like a reasonable figure. Wyoming was a small state; TV time could be purchased there for a fraction of what it cost in New York or California. Not that Sam would have a snowball’s chance of getting elected in those states. But Wyoming was another matter. Not only that, but he was pretty sure that the brothers would pony up even more if it was needed. To them it was Monopoly money.
But Congress?
“We do realize,” Ken said, “that we’re basically asking you to leave a very successful career.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing,” Sam said.
“And we assume you weren’t looking to leave the world of broadcasting at this time,” Bill added.
Guess again, Sam thought. He had another drink. “I’m going to need to think about this.”
“Absolutely,” Bill agreed. “What do you need—a couple days?”
Sam drank off the scotch. “One day.”
“Good,” Bill said, clearly surprised. “Now what about those steaks?”