“Thanks.”
“I can’t promise we’ll get this sorted out
anytime soon. Immigration laws are changing just about every minute, and with
the way things are in Washington—everywhere across the country,
really—regulations are getting tighter. Added to that we’ve got three federal
agencies involved—Customs, Homeland, and Labor—and none of them speak the same
language or to each other. But since you’re already here and established, and
paying taxes…” Aud smiled. “That always helps. I’m hopeful this will be taken
care of before it becomes a serious issue.”
“You mean before I have to leave.”
Aud nodded. “Perhaps you should reconsider
Derian’s offer. That’s a surefire way to cut through all the red tape.”
Emily snorted. “She told you about that, did
she? Her plan for me to be a mail-order bride?”
“She mentioned it, and I might’ve suggested
it was a crazy idea at the time. But it’s not illegal, especially since the two
of you do have a relationship. You’d hardly be a mail-order bride.”
“It’s a ridiculous idea. I wouldn’t chain her
to a meaningless relationship.”
“And what about yourself?”
Emily stared at the lines of script on the
yellow notepad. She couldn’t even pretend Derian didn’t matter.
“No, I didn’t think it would be meaningless.”
Aud rose and efficiently gathered up her notes. “I’ll do my best to see that
you stay.”
Emily stayed behind, waiting for the
rapid-fire events of the morning to settle. Henrietta was right, as usual. She
needed to get away for a little while, and now was the perfect time for her
long-delayed visit with Pam. Maybe when she wasn’t coming to the agency every
day, she wouldn’t be reminded Derian wasn’t there any longer. Mentally she
laughed at her own self-delusion. Nothing would make her stop thinking of
Derian. Was Aud right—had Derian reached out from afar to make sure someone who
really cared would help her now? Derian had tried to help her too, and even
though her solution wasn’t something Emily could live with, she at least ought
to thank her. She owed her that.
*
Derian collected her winnings and wended her
way through the gaming tables to the bar for a drink before heading back to her
hotel. At three in the morning, most everyone was at the tables, and the bar
was almost empty except for a brunette in a red sheath dress at one end and two
men at the other. Derian slid onto a stool halfway down the bar and nodded to
the bartender in a crisp white shirt and black bow tie. “Macallan, neat.”
A minute later, the bartender placed a
tumbler of scotch onto a square white coaster on the polished black
marble-topped bar in front of her. “Thanks.”