Free Call Me Joe by Steven J Patrick

about what I tip at Vong for a dinner for four. I like being rich, I earned it the old fashioned way, and it makes me happy to buy stuff. So sue me."
     
    "Just don't buy me a Cadillac, okay?" I sighed.
     
    "Hey, I'm not freakin' Elvis, pal," he grinned.
     
    "For four bil," I observed, "you could buy Elvis."
     
    "I'd try, if he were still around," Jack chuckled.
     
    He insisted I try the boots before leaving Colville. They fit perfectly; easily the most comfortable footwear I've ever owned. I kept them on as we drove north out of town, back into the majestic maze of hills and mountains that ring Colville and define northeastern Washington.
     
    We crossed the Columbia on a bridge over a dam and turned south on a narrow two-lane road. Traffic here was sparse and consisted mostly of heavy trucks and ancient passenger cars stuffed with groups of young native American men. None of the latter was going very fast or seemed at all purposeful.
     
    "You want my bleeding heart liberal rap about providing opportunities for young native American kids now, or you want to wait 'til later?" Jack asked quietly.
     
    "Preaching' to the choir, chief," I sighed. "Lotsa right-wing kooks out here screamin' bloody murder about the evils of gambling. Gambling is about all some of these tribes have going for them. I don't gamble myself, but I think people got to live. More power to 'em."
     
    "Not just casinos, though," Jack said, with an edge in his voice. "I don't want to be the guy who marginalized the entire Colville tribe. In the long term, after P.P.V.'s opt-out comes along and I buy their shares, I'm going draw up an agreement with the Colvilles that lets them buy me out in about ten years.  They'll own it all—casino, resort, shopping center, farms, and, if I work it right, a hell of a lot of infrastructure."
     
    "This, out of the goodness of your heart?" I smiled.
     
    "Hell, no," Jack snorted. "For a profit. But one they can live with; one that lets them grow the businesses."
     
    Suddenly, it dawned on me.
     
    "P.P.V. has an opt-out?"
     
    "Five years in," Jack nodded. "This is their first venture into anything other than simple timber rights. I'm assuming Anthony II is on a short leash:  turn a quick profit, prove it's possible, and that pries open all those fossilized farts on Pembroke & Hawke's board…who, right now, think this whole deal is Anthony Sr.'s kid's loony cash pit."
     
    "So, this thing could belong to you in five years?" I asked.
     
    "Well, me and the Wrights," he murmured.
     
    "Okay, confused now," I snorted. "The Wrights don't opt out?"
     
    "Didn't want to, evidently," Jack shrugged. "This whole project is sort of a social thing for them, I think. Place to bring Clay's buds from la-la land and Jane's parents' old-money Spokane crowd. Which is fine, y'know - 25 mil is 25 mil - but not taking an opt-out…"
     
    "You have one?" I asked.
     
    "Of course," Jack chuckled. "Same as P.P.V., a buyout. I'd take a loss. So would they, but neither of us takes the gas pipe. That's the point: No ruin and desecration, above and beyond corporate law protection."
     
    "Wouldn't that be even more important for the Wrights," I asked puzzled. "They don't, I presume, have your kind of deep pockets or gangs of feral lawyers."
     
    "Only thing I can think of is that those sorts of opt-out clauses are sort of a double-edged sword. Almost always. They give your partners first option if you sell, and frequently, like in our contracts, open up the possibility of a forced sale. P.P.V. and I gang up, decide we just don't want the Wrights anymore—they're difficult, unhelpful, get into some kind of jam that taints the public image, whatever most contracts give us the right to buy them out. Our deal includes language that says we can't buy their shares. We get first right of refusal if they decide to sell, and we get limited veto power if we decline and they go to an outside buyer. But, basically, they can stay in forever if they