The Color of Love

Chapter Twenty-eight

“Morning,” Emily said as she walked into the conference room where Aud waited with a laptop open before her and a yellow legal pad by her right hand. Aud’s navy suit jacket with matching trousers and an open-collared pale blue striped shirt looked more stylish than standard business garb on her willowy frame.

“Hi.” Aud smiled, looking tired beneath her flawless, understated makeup. “Sorry I didn’t get this scheduled with you ahead of time. Henrietta called and issued a priority edict.”

“That’s fine.” Emily settled across from her. “Henrietta took us all by surprise today.”

“At least she’s feeling better.” Aud leaned back. “So—today is just a review so I can be sure you understand the protocols and what we’ll be doing to get you squared away.”

“I thought—sorry, I’m not sure of the etiquette here, but I didn’t think you were part of the agency’s legal team.”

“Technically,” Aud said, not appearing put out by the question, “Winfield Enterprises’ legal department represents all the divisions. The agency usually works with just one or two of us, but Henrietta requested me. Are you okay with that?”

“Of course.”

Aud gave her a long look. “Actually, Henrietta intimated Derian was behind it.”

Emily’s face grew hot. So much for keeping her relationship with Derian private. All she had to do was hear her name and she telegraphed exactly how she felt about her. “Ah, that’s kind of her.”

Aud laughed. “Derian is many wonderful and infuriating things, including kind, but I don’t think that’s what motivated her this time. She knew I’d give this more than just the normal business-as-usual attention.”

“Personal attention.”

“Yes.”

Emily studied the beautiful, sophisticated woman. She seemed exactly the kind of woman Derian would choose for a friend, or a lover. Had Derian discussed their relationship? And if she had, what did it matter. “I appreciate that.”

“We’re friends, Derian and I,” Aud said quietly, as if answering some unspoken question.

“But you’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Emily asked, much preferring straightforward conversations to roundabout word games. And being on a level field with Aud, if all that meant was being honest, seemed important now that they were to have more than a passing acquaintance. Derian was part of their lives—even if Derian was part of her past now. The feelings remained, and she didn’t want to hide them.

Aud gave a short, hard laugh. “My whole life.”

“Does she know that?”

“Oh, I’m sure she does. And she loves me, in her way. In the only way she can.” Aud shrugged, her expression amused and a little sad. “We can’t help who we love, or who we don’t. Derian isn’t in love…with me.”

“I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”

“Isn’t it?” Aud said lightly.

“No. Especially now, but really not ever. Derian’s relationships are not my concern.”

“Really? If she was my lover, I’d put a big sign around her neck—no trespassing.”

Emily laughed and shook her head. “She’s not my lover.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But she wants to be sure you’re here when she gets back.”

Emily ignored the quick fluttering of her heart. Aud didn’t know that. Neither did she, and she couldn’t let herself get drawn into false hope. She’d had years of wishing reality could be changed and wouldn’t be crippled by futile longings again. “I’m glad you’re handling this.”

Aud leaned forward, pulling the laptop into range. “All right then. Let’s see about getting your immigration situation straightened out.”

Emily listened, provided what information she could, and tried not to panic. Aud knew what she was doing—everything would work out. It had to.

“That’s it for now,” Aud said after half an hour. “I’ll be in touch as soon as we start filing the preliminary forms. I’ll push it as fast as I can.”

“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.”

The brunette eased onto the adjacent seat. “You don’t remember me, but I was at the Speed-Pro company party the other night.”

“I remember.” Derian had a good memory for faces, and she’d noticed the brunette in a low-cut black dress that had showcased her killer body. She remembered the burly older man whose arm she’d clung to as well.

“I don’t recall seeing you with anyone.” The brunette’s voice was a low, smoky purr.

“I’m not here with anyone.”

“Neither am I.” At Derian’s slightly raised brow, she laughed. “Oh, I am married, but my husband prefers to spend his time at the tables. We have an understanding, in case something like that matters to you.”

Derian savored her scotch. “I appreciate you telling me. It makes things easier, but I’m not looking for company.”

“Everyone’s looking for company of one sort or another.” The brunette signaled the bartender and he placed another martini in front of her. “Whether we know it or not.”

“You might be right,” Derian said. “I should have said I’m not looking for anyone’s company but one particular woman’s.”

“I see. Someone special.”

Derian turned the glass in her hands, Emily’s face all she could see. “Very.”

“Well, how about another kind of company, then. For a little while.”

“I’m Derian Winfield,” Derian said, offering her hand.

“Veronica Riley.”

“Nice to meet you, Veronica.”

They shared another drink, and Derian offered to see Veronica back to her hotel.

“That’s kind of you, but I’ll be fine.”

“Thanks for the company, then.”

Veronica smiled and Derian walked away. As the cab brought her back to her hotel through the dark, quiet streets an hour before dawn, the restless unease of the last few weeks settled between her shoulder blades with an insistent throb. She’d done what she’d come here to do. Her business was finished, and what remained held no promise of pleasure. Time stretched out before her like a prison sentence, but she didn’t have to accept the verdict. Maybe she’d left this life behind before she’d even returned. She just hadn’t known it.

When she walked into her suite, the red light on her phone was blinking and she pushed the button for her messages. Emily’s voice stopped time—stopped everything as Derian concentrated on the lift and fall of her voice, shuddered as warmth coursed through her. She steadied herself with a hand on the back of the sofa. What had she said? The words hadn’t registered. Derian played the message again, and then again just to hear her voice. Emily was thanking her for being so kind, so helpful? That was all Emily had heard?

Derian closed her eyes. What an idiot she’d been.