“Okay,” the woman said after I’d read out my mother’s information. “It seems that your mother’s insurance won’t cover very much.”
The woman sounded even more exhausted than before, and I had the feeling that the cost was going to be much higher than I had expected the first tests to be.
“So what does that mean for us?” I asked when she didn’t continue.
“It looks like you’ll have to pay for most of the treatment and tests out of pocket,” the receptionist replied with a small sigh. “It’s going to be very expensive.”
“How much?” I questioned, and my heart squeezed in my chest as I waited for the answer.
“It’ll be in the thousands,” she muttered like she didn’t want to say the words out loud. “And that’s just for the first few tests. It’ll be a few more thousand once the doctor comes up with a treatment plan, and the treatments aren’t cheap”
“Right,” I mumbled. “Alright, well, I’ll give you my credit card information. Can you email me a receipt?”
“Of course,” the woman said as her nails clicked on her keyboard. “I’m ready when you are.”
I pulled out my credit card and read off the numbers to her, and then gave her my email address so she could send me the receipt and any future bills that my mother would have.
“You’re all set,” the receptionist said when we were done. “We’ll get those tests run on Tuesday. Dr. Brown is one of the best in Miami. He’ll take good care of your mother.”
“Thanks,” I responded while I blinked back more tears as I thought of my mom in chemo. “Have a nice day.”
“You, too,” the woman said.
I hung up the phone and just stared at the cubicle wall for a few long minutes as I processed. I knew the bills would be high, it was cancer treatment after all, but her insurance had been even more useless than I’d imagined.
The offer from Hancock, Garcia, and Smith was a substantial raise from what I was currently making, but it wouldn’t be enough to cover my expenses and my mother’s no matter how much I cut back. I might be able to work for the prestigious law firm while I picked up a few cases from the Public Defender’s Office, but that would mean I wouldn’t be able to sleep, and I needed to be at my best to take care of my mother when she started her treatments.
I stared at my briefcase where the poorly-typed offer from Alvaro Cruz laid hidden, and wondered if it was worth it to accept the position. The guy had said it would just be a few import issues, paperwork, and contracts, but their ties to the Cuban cartel were a big concern. Would I be expected to handle any of the cartel’s issues that came up as well? Did that mean I would have to defend them in a Federal criminal case?
It came down to my morals or my mother. I had to choose one, and as I stared at my briefcase the decision seemed easy.
Family always came first.
Chapter 4
“Welcome back!” the gruff gatesman from my previous visit exclaimed as I pulled up to the gatehouse for the Fuentes Shipping Company.
His small TV mumbled in the background as he leaned out of his window, and I thought I heard someone shout about a cheating husband over the buzzing of the fan that swung lazily back and forth from the corner of his desk.
“Good morning,” I replied with a smile as I took a steadying breath.
I was back for my first meeting with the mysterious president, a man I’d found very little about in my Google searches. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing, since I knew many corporate bigwigs liked to keep a low profile, though maybe not as low as the man I was about to meet.
“I hear you’re meeting with the boss today?” the hairy, muscular man said with a lopsided grin that showed his missing teeth.
“I am,” I replied and was grateful that my voice didn’t shake as I thought about the potentially high ranking cartel member I was about to meet.
I was there for my mother, and so far no one had given me any reason to be afraid of them. And aside from the old stereotypes, I had no real reason to believe these men were members of the cartel. At least, that’s what I told myself.
“Well, you know the way,” the cheerful man said as he reached over to press a button for the gate. “Did they tell you what office you’re going to?”
“Yes,” I said with a nod. “It’s two doors down from Mr. Cruz’s office.”
“Great,” the guard nodded his head. “Make sure you don’t wander around. They got a big shipment in so there’s a lot of heavy equipment on the floors. You can just go straight up to the meeting room, and the boss’ll head over when he’s ready.”
“Okay,” I replied. “See you later.”
I gave the burly man a wave and then eased on the gas as I drove through the chain link gate once again. It felt like I’d driven through this same gate hundreds of times already even though it was only my second visit to the company. I decided to take that as a good omen, and I was smiling as I pulled up to the warehouse.
The guard hadn’t exaggerated about how busy the warehouse was. Each of the three large rolling metal doors were open, and a shipping container sat just inside each door. A swarm of rough-looking men rushed around the floor like busy worker bees while they avoided the fork lifts that carried off the heavier crates.
I parked my beat-up old blue Honda Civic next
