“Shall we take a short break until Ash gets back and then debrief?” I ask Wendy and Randall.
“Think you can handle it without me?” Randall asks. “I need to get back before Dad realizes I’ve been gone more than half the day. I’m not sure how I’ll account for these non-billable hours.”
Wendy’s eyebrows raise. “Your dad doesn’t know you’re here?”
He shakes his head. “And he doesn’t know the real reason Ash is here, either. He’s going to lose it when he finds out what we’ve set in motion. I fear for Ash’s job, honestly, and his home.”
“I’m sure it’ll all be okay,” I say. How can his dad be that upset with what we’re helping Diego do, even if he doesn’t fully agree with it?
“I’m sure it won’t, and Ash wouldn’t disagree. He told you Dad’s not a fan of immigration, but that’s a gross understatement. He hates immigration with a rabid passion unless he can somehow exploit it. Exactly what Dad will do when word gets out about this, I don’t know, but it won’t be good. Ash is going to keep my involvement quiet, but even if Dad finds out, I don’t regret being part of this, and I never will.”
I collapse into a chair. “Why didn’t Ash tell me this?”
“Probably because he doesn’t care what Dad will do. He wants this to happen more than anyone.”
My stomach clenches. I need to talk to Diego about potentially hiring Ash, and soon. I no longer care about the no-asking-for-favors clause, and I don’t think Diego will either.
“Sorry to leave you ladies on such a down note,” Randall says, “but I gotta go. Thanks for letting me be part of this.” He stands, pats my shoulder, squeezes Wendy’s, and heads out.
“Leslie, these men …” Wendy is rarely at a loss for words, but she is now.
“They’re pretty amazing, aren’t they?” I’m so proud of Ash for standing up for what he knows is good and right, even though it may cost him his job.
We both sit quietly as we process everything that happened today until Ash appears in the doorway. His eyes lock on me, move over to Wendy, and then back to me.
“What’s going on?”
“Come in and shut the door,” I say.
He does, and then he sits across from me. “What’s with the change in mood?”
“Discovering you might lose your job and home over this,” I explain, my eyes full of tears.
Ash pounds his fist on the table. “Dang it, Randall.”
“Don’t get mad at him,” Wendy says. “He loves you, Ash, and he knows we care about you, too. We needed to know, although I doubt there’s anything we can do about it.”
Ash shakes his head. “No, there’s not. I don’t intend on telling Dad about this, but it won’t be a secret forever. He’s going to find out eventually, and then I’ll have to pay the price, whatever it is. Regardless of what kind of creative punishment he decides to mete out, I’ll never wish I wasn’t a part of this.”
I suddenly realize Ash and Randall aren’t the only ones who might be punished for this project. “What about Carmela?” I ask, a knot forming in my stomach all over again. “What if your dad finds out she was involved?”
“It doesn’t matter if he does. I talked to George about the situation yesterday. He’s hiring her. She gave me her resignation letter this morning. I’ll make sure HR gets it by the end of the day. She starts here on Monday, at double what Dad was paying her.”
Carmela is right. I love this man. He’s kind and thoughtful and smart and may well have sacrificed his career and home for something he believes in. My heart races and my lungs don’t know what to do in response to this revelation.
Wendy, oblivious to the emotions swirling inside me, says, “I bet Diego will hire her out from under George. He was extremely impressed by her.”
“So was I,” Ash replies. “She was meant to do more than clean offices. She should be running one. After seeing her in action, I bet George will figure out a different position for her than cleaning.”
It’s my turn to say something about Carmela, but my lungs still won’t function properly. Ash and Wendy are both giving me concerned looks, so I cough and squeak out, “I think I need some water.”
Ash strides over to the food and drink table set up on the side of the room and pours me a glass of water. He places it in my hand and then lightly brushes his fingertips across my shoulder before circling the table to his chair again. I close my eyes and revel in the brief contact. When I glance at Wendy, her eyes narrow at me. I look away from her.
“We ready to go over next steps?” Ash picks up his pen.
I nod firmly and set my glass on the table. “Let’s do it.”
fifty-eight