Green Card

12 Business As Usual (Lucas)

"Okay, that's fine. Kevin will take me to the office and then take you to the airport to pick up your friends," I told her, leading her off to the limo. "When do they land?"

"In an hour," she said and then exhaled, frustrated. "They didn't even ask. They didn't even give me time to see if it was okay with you. I mean, I'm assuming they are thinking they're going to stay at your house but they didn't even—"

"Piper," I interrupted her, placing my hands on her shoulders and drawing her attention to me. She calmed as she looked into my eyes. "Your friends are welcome in my home. Always."

She smiled.

"And you don't have to ask," I reminded her as Kevin took the bags from me and placed them in the trunk. "We're married, remember? Mi casa es, literally, su casa."

"Thank you, Lucas. Really."

I nodded and led her off to the limo, not trying to rush her but, if we had to make it to the office and the airport in an hour, we needed to get moving. Kevin figured as much when we told him the plan and the man was swerving through traffic like he was born driving in downtown LA. Piper was gripping the handle above her head, knuckles turning white and teeth gritting as Kevin took a particularly hard turn. I chuckled and she glared at me.

"Have a good day, boss," Kevin told me less than half an hour later as I stepped out onto the pavement outside of my office building. He started to shut the door but then Piper was pushing against it, jumping out from the limo and striding up to me where I had already made it to the steps.

"Cariño, your friends—" I started but she interrupted me.

"They'll wait," she said and then threw her arms around me and kissed me hard right there in front of my office. I dropped my briefcase and wrapped my arms around her, lifting her into the air as I kissed her back. I heard Kevin clear his throat and busy himself with wiping the car window with a sleeve but I didn't care. When we separated, I lowered her gently back to the sidewalk and she leaned in close. "Think we just created a few more witnesses."

She jerked her head to the side and I turned to see Nate standing nearby, enormous grin on his face. She winked at me and then whirled around and climbed back into the limo.

"Ahem, Sir," Kevin said with a nod and then got back into the driver's seat and pulled out toward the airport.

I heard the beginning of a single slow clap and turned to roll my eyes at an approaching Nate.

"Someone got laid last night," Nate hollered as he approached, far too loudly. I winced as I straightened my tie and picked my briefcase back up off of the ground.

"Very professional, Nate," I replied, trying to maintain the illusion of superiority but it never worked with a guy like Nate and, even though I knew I shouldn't be, I was okay with that.

"You didn't deny it though, boss man," he said with a smile, popping a handful of candy into his mouth as he followed me through the lobby and toward the elevator.

"No," I said, straightening my cuff links. "I did not."

Nate let out a low whistle and I chuckled as the elevator doors closed and we each pressed our respective buttons.

"Guessing it's nice to have the wife back in town, eh?" Nate asked then and his tone of male comrade rise changed to something more meaningful at that. Something almost like pity. I turned to him and saw it reflected in his eyes as well. Was Nate feeling bad for me? Did my design team meet in secret to talk about their poor boss living so far away from his loving wife, never seeing her?

"Yes," I answered, turning back to face the doors. "Very nice."

"We're all happy for you, Mr. Vega," Nate said then, clapping me on the back and smiling at me. "Truly."

I nodded my head in thanks as the elevator doors opened and Nate stepped outside to join the other designers on the tenth floor. I remained in the elevator to rise four more to my office.

"Any messages?" I asked my assistant, Trudy, when I emerged.

"Four from Mr. Abadía, two from Mr. Silver, and one from your mother," she answered. My head snapped up in her direction.

"Thank you, Trudy," I told her. "I'll take those."

I took the post it notes from her as I turned and headed into my office, flipping through them until I found the one about the call from my mother. But all it said was a simple "requests callback". Very well. I sighed and loosened my tie, locking my door as I sat down at my desk and dialed.

She picked up on the third ring.

"Dios mío," she exclaimed the moment she answered. "Tell me, hijo, tell me why I find my son is married on television, eh?"

I muttered a curse.

"Qué dijiste?" She exploded. "Lucas Andres Vega, you tell me who she is this instant, this gringa."

"Lo siento, mama," I replied. "Really. I didn't want you to find out this way."

"Did you want me to find out at all, hijo? Que?"

"Yes, mama, yes. I was going to tell you. It all... happened very quickly and it's not what you think."

"I want to meet her."

"Mama—"

"Esta es la esposa de mi hijo! My daughter-in-law. You will keep her from me?"

"We can't exactly visit right now," I tried to explain, doing my best to keep my exasperation from my tone. "Estoy siendo investigado. Immigration."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone as my mother reasoned out what I was saying. I hadn't told her about this six years ago. I wouldn't have told her today but I was now a subject of interest to the media and I was sure that Piper and I had been photographed and written about in all manner of news sources over the last week including, apparently, telemundo.

"Ah," my mother responded then, more curtly than before. "I see. Still. This is legal, yes?"

"Sí, Madre."

"Then she is your wife and I will meet her."

"Mama—"

"Arrange it, hijo. I am losing patience with this."

Then there was a click and I knew my mother had hung up. I sighed, dropping my head into my hands and taking deep breaths. I'd known this was coming. The moment that Piper had walked back into my life, I'd known I wouldn't be able to hide it from my parents forever. But how was I going to explain to them that we'd been married for six years already? And how was I going to get away with introducing Piper to my parents when we'd only just begun to get to know one another? I sighed, shaking my head and scrubbing a hand down my face.

"Whatever you're dealing with," someone spoke from the doorway and I looked up to see Valencia leaning against it, "don't bring me into it. It looks dreadful."

"It's my mother," I said and she nodded in understanding.

"Ah, the Latina madre," she replied, a knowing look in her eye as she was from Mexico herself. "I don't envy you."

I smiled.

"What do you have for me?" I asked.

"Final budgets," she told me, dropping a stack of papers onto my desk. "These need approval by end of business today."

I nodded, flipping through the papers.

"The raises I requested?" I asked.

"Yes, the design team's raises have been included," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "But I advise you to think long and hard the next time you ask me to find enough room in a mid-year budget for generous raises for eleven people, Mr. Vega. I may just quit."

She turned on her heel and pulled open the door to my office, preparing to exit.

"You wouldn't dare," I called out. She just flipped her hair over her shoulder and headed for the elevators. I chuckled and turned back to my messages. Four from Danny and two from Arthur. I sighed. Today was not going to be a good day.