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These words send a shot of real fear down my spine. “Why wouldn’t they? You haven’t committed a crime, you’re not on any social services,” I say, trying to fight my own rising fear.
“They can do whatever they want. It’s not guaranteed and it’s never taken this long for an approval. This is my third application in five years. I’d planned on leaving when this project was over. If I leave before they deport me, there’s a good chance I can come back in a few years.”
My heart skips a beat. “You planned to leave? Were you going to tell me that?”
“Of course I was. But, I haven’t thought about leaving since I met you.”
I walk over to her, not letting myself even think about the possibility she would have to leave. I’d do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t come to that. I cup her cheek, tilt her face up to mine.
“We’ll face that if it comes to it, and I know you’re worried, but trust me, I wouldn’t let you be deported. I don’t throw my weight around, but I will if I need to. I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to do this by yourself anymore.”
30
Lucía
I close my eyes and savor those words. The promise in them buoys me.
“Thank you. I think if I lay low a little, it’ll be fine.”
Reece’s thumb had been stroking my cheek and at my words, he stops. His smile falters and his eyes close.
“Are you okay?” I look over my shoulder to see if he’s seen something.
He smiles again and grabs my hand, pulls me to standing. He lowers his face to mine and pulls me into a hug. He voice is gruff and his breath lifts my hair a little as he speaks.
“Yeah . . . no. I need to talk to you.” I’m still in the fog of desire his little tease created, but I hear his last sentence and I start to wake up.
“What’s wrong?” I ask wearily.
“Today in the restaurant, you said it made you happy to meet the people I introduced you to?”
I nod wearily. I have no clue where he’s going with this.
“I had an ulterior motive for taking you there today.”
I grimace and he continues.
“No, it’s nothing bad. I just wanted you to see that it could be okay to be out in public. I want you to help us sell this film. Our marketing team created a strategy, or at least the sketch of one, and you being available to talk about the book and the issues it raises are part of that strategy.”
My heart sinks. I feel cold suddenly and I rub my hands up and down my arms.
“Do you want me to stop talking?” Reece asks.
I whisper, “No, I’m just trying to grasp what you’re saying.” I understand perfectly, but I wish I didn’t.
“I’m saying that you need to come to terms with being in the spotlight. A few late nights, a morning show or two and a feature in an upscale magazine. As soon as you say okay, Sol’s going to get working on getting one of those lined up. You’re beautiful, they’re going to want to know who you are. I’ll be there with you. We can control the narrative, make it about the film, the book and not so much you.”
A feel a frown form on my face. “Are . . . you giving me media training?”
“No. But you’re going to need some, soon. You’re overdue for interviews for the book. We’ll do them together and I’ll talk about why we’re making film,” he says brusquely.
“What’s soon?”
“Three weeks. We’re flying to New York to do TODAY, Good Morning America and a spot on a CNN morning show. We’ll be back two days later and you’ll do one of the late night shows here a week or so after that.”
I’m afraid my eyes are going to pop out of my head. I don’t know how we got here. “Reece, my contract. It says no press.”
He nods, “Yeah, it does,” he says with a challenge in his voice. “But you can decide to do it anyway. Who knows your status besides your family, me and Jessica? You’ll be fine. You’re about to the be next hottest thing. Sol’s going to be very busy fielding offers for endorsements.”
