Page 83 of More Than Pen Pals

“In more ways than one, I’m guessing.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. “Anyway, I said we need to tamp things down at least until Shannon is here. I didn’t say this to Ash, but I think my brother can help me figure out if what I’m feeling is real or a reaction to being dumped.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s real,” she says.

“Me, too, but Shannon knows me better than anyone. He’s been there since the womb.”

“The twin thing.”

“Yep.”

“So if I marry your twin, does that mean I’m kind of marrying you, too?”

I grab my pillow and swing it at her head.

forty

At one o’clock on Tuesday afternoon I walk through Leslie’s office door, my brother on my heels. Leslie sits at her desk, and Wendy has taken up residence in the purple chair.

I hate that Leslie and I have an audience for the first time we see each other after the kiss that blew my mind, but if we didn’t, I’d be tempted to lock the door behind me again. I’ve never lacked control over my body before, but I’m struggling with it now. It’s so strange that while I’m not a touchy-feely person, I want to have physical contact with Leslie every moment of the day.

The look she gives me is so full of longing I can barely breathe, but I hold myself together since both Wendy and Randall are watching me intently. Amazingly, neither of them comment on the situation. I threatened Randall to within an inch of his life to keep his mouth shut, and I’m guessing Leslie did the same with Wendy.

“We ready to do this?” I ask.

Wendy stands and claps her hands together. “Let’s take this party to a conference room so we have more space to spread out. Follow me, Team Sanchez.”

We let the ladies walk out first, and my brother scoots in front of me as I try to follow directly behind Leslie. He gives me a stern look and shakes his head. I’m both annoyed and thankful, because I would’ve touched her if he hadn’t intervened.

Once we’re in the conference room, Randall and Wendy wordlessly ensure we’re seated so Leslie and I are neither sitting next to nor across from each other. The two of them are like a well-oiled machine. I want to scream in frustration. I’m honestly not sure why we need both of them, but neither would give in when we discovered they were both recruited to join us.

Leslie says, “Let’s get started. Ash, why don’t you tell us what you’re thinking, and then we’ll see what other ideas we have and go from there.”

I pull out my notes, but I don’t need them. I know exactly what I want to do. “I started thinking about this on Thursday after a conversation with a cleaner at our firm.” I explain about Carmela and her husband Javier, who can’t get back into the country after visiting his mother.

“The next thing I know,” I say, “Diego Sanchez is coming to town, and Carter-Jenkins lands him as a client. The first thing I wanted to do was call him and ask if he can help get Javier back into the country, since they’re both from the Dominican Republic, but I’m not allowed to ask Sanchez for any favors. In the meantime, I made some calls to a few people I thought might help, but I didn’t get anywhere with any of them. I’m not sure if it’s because they truly can’t help or because they fear Dad.”

When Leslie gives me a confused look, I say, “Our father isn’t a fan of immigration. Explaining we’re all technically descended from immigrants does no good. He’s more than happy to employ legal workers, but only if they’re fluent in English.”

Leslie’s eyes look sad at my explanation, but she nods in understanding.

“What my brother isn’t telling you,” Randall says, “is Dad also pays them less than everyone else. But Ash here slips them sizable Christmas bonuses out of his own pocket.”

My face turns red, and I glare at my brother while avoiding Leslie’s gaze. I don’t want her to think I asked Randall to brag about me for her benefit. “That’s not supposed to be common knowledge,” I say to him. “I’m not sure how you know about it.” I’ve never told a soul.

He spreads his hands wide. “I told you I know everything.” One of these days I’ll figure out how.

I clear my throat and continue, “So my idea is for Sanchez to set up a foundation that will help not only legal residents with their own immigration issues but also aid naturalized citizens with bringing their family members to the US legally.”

“Yes!” Leslie’s face and eyes are so animated my heart feels like it’ll burst. “When Bobby told us about Diego helping his cousins immigrate here and get jobs and get settled into the community, I had similar thoughts. And I wonder if Jorge and Armando would be interested in being involved in the foundation as well. I bet they would.” She looks at Wendy and then Randall. “We met his cousins at the game on Friday. They’re great guys.”

I ask, “Is anyone not in favor of taking this idea and running with it?”

“You know I’m in,” Randall says. “I’d be in regardless because I love this idea, but if we’re doing something that’ll also stick it to Dad, I’m two hundred percent in.”

“Me, too,” Wendy adds. “Well, I’m not in it to stick it to your dad, but I’m all for it. I’ll help in any way I can. Now, let’s get into the details.”

* * *

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