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She makes a valid point. “We could probably get some of them here on work visas,”
She licks her lips, “Yeah, potentially. We need to look into things a bit more,” Amara pauses for a moment and looks right at me. “Oak’s been here for a little over a month. What are you gonna do when her visa runs out?”
Her question hits me right in the heart.
I have no fucking clue what we’re going to do.
Shaking my head, I’m honest with her. “I have no fuckin’ idea. I don’t necessarily want her to leave, and it’s not like I can go back to the States when I’m the VP.”
Amara nods, “Yeah, so, I’d say you need to figure that shit out. Think she’d get a work visa?”
I lick my lips and shake my head, “No. She’s been doing that painting and stuff. Doesn’t she need an official employer to sponsor her or whatever?”
I don’t know enough about visas like I should.
“Yeah, it’s something like that,” Amara pauses for a moment. “Did she say if she’s gonna start painting the main area today? I asked her about it last week.”
How the fuck am I supposed to know?
She was upstairs painting a little bit ago.
“Probably,” I bullshit her, “I can remind her if you want me to.”
Amara shakes her head, “That’s okay. I’m certain she’ll get around to it.”
I agree, “She’s not gonna leave you hangin’.”
Amara laughs, “Oh, I know. She’s a stand-up girl, and she’s becoming a good friend of mine.”
Amara and Oakleigh do have some girl chats a couple times a week, usually drinking while they do it.
I’m glad Oakleigh’s taking time to get to know Amara and vice versa.
If you ask me, the two have a lot of things in common.
Amara glances down at her phone once again, “Shit, I have to go. Dante planned some dinner thing and I’m gonna be late.”
Raising my brows I chuckle, “Oh, anything special?”
Her eyes lift up and practically bore into mine. “You’re joking, right?”
Furrowing my brows, I shake my head. “No, I'm not. Why?”
Amara shakes her head and laughs. “Dude, it’s Valentine’s Day. Did you plan anything for Oakleigh?”
Swallowing hard, I’m honest with her. “No, I didn’t.”
“What the fuck, Razor? Why not? She adores the hell out of you.”
Licking my lips, it’s hard to answer her. “I don’t know. We haven’t labeled anything between us, so,”
Amara waves at me in dismissal as she stands up. “Labels don’t matter in situations like this. You obviously care about her, so go do something nice.”
She makes a good point.
Maybe our label doesn’t matter . . . and I do care about the woman immensely.
Licking my lips, I nod. “You’re right.”
