I glare at him. “Get out of my way.”

“No. You’ve said your piece, and what a piece it was. Now you get to hear mine.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Tough. I’m not paying for fucking you. Take it from someone who knows, Elisa. Sex with you would not cost millions. In fact, it wouldn’t—”

I can’t hear any more. “You’re right. It would not. Maybe you can find something cheaper and better somewhere else. It’s my own fault, not yours. What a fool I was! Our entire relationship—if it even deserves that name—started out as a commercial transaction. You paying for me to pose naked. Now paying for the aftermath. What an expensive mistake you must think you made!”

“Enough!” he yells, as the tenuous grip we both had on our emotions all morning—in fact, the past two days—gives out. The air thickens and stills, heavy with the venom, resentment, demons and anger we just dumped on it. His entire frame is shaking with rage.

“I am not. Paying you. For sex.” He punctuates his words. “You’re right about the other things though. Yes, I wanted to fuck you. And I enjoyed it. Tremendously. I would do it again and again. I’d fuck you here. Right now. But it would not change the fact that as we got to know each other, it became painfully obvious that I’m not right for you and you’re not right for me. So, yes, I could have been more direct this morning but despite my realization, I still wanted to make sure you were not in trouble. And frankly, I’m glad I did because, apparently, you do need my overflowing coffers that you so disdain. So I’m trying to help. I can’t be with you but that does not mean that you have to be exiled in some forsaken town surrounded by ghosts.” He stops and he is breathing hard.

I lean against the conference room wall. Each word he spoke—each awful truth—was a blow. So this is his conclusion. He can’t be with me. Even though I knew our days were numbered before we even began, hearing him acknowledge it stabs deeper than I imagined—a lot deeper than I knew I had room to hurt.

Yet worse than all his words are his last ones. Surrounded by ghosts. My ghosts are not coming back, no matter how alive I try to keep them. My throat burns as tears singe my eyes. I notice that his posture changes somehow, but I can’t bring myself to look at him.

“You’re right,” I whisper. “They are ghosts.”

I don’t ask him the questions that are burning in my brain. Why doesn’t he want me? Why does he think we are not right? None of that matters. He just does. Someday, maybe I will figure it out. But not today. Today, I just have to survive.

“Elisa.” There is pain in his voice. The composure is gone for him too. He tries to put his index finger under my chin but I turn my face away. “Elisa, you have to start living your own life. That’s what I’m offering. Will you accept it?”

I think it through as best I can. I don’t have other options. This could fix it all, could remove any uncertainty. I could find a job. Get a home. Work hard. Help the Solises. And maybe one day, even lay my ghosts to rest. I take a deep breath and look up at him. He looks like he is burning—his eyes almost midnight. I have to take the noose off his neck.

“I accept your offer but on one condition.”

“What condition?”

“That you don’t gift the money to me. Despite your motivation, to me it will always feel like a sale price. So, I’d like to strike a bargain with you. Like I tried at my presentation. Will you consider buying my supplement?”

He takes a step back. “You’d sell your father’s supplement to me after all this?” he whispers, dismayed.

“Yes. It’s a fair bargain at arms’ length, since that’s the relationship you want. You’d be overpaying for it at first but if you get it approved and tested, I think you could make money on it. In exchange, I’ll also offer to invest the money you pay in one of your companies. As Bob will tell you, I need to create at least ten American jobs, excluding myself. You wouldn’t have to deal with me, would not lose control and would not be out a dime. And I’d get my green card. It’s a win-win.”

Something like awe spreads over his face. “Would it be a win-win? For something that means so much to you?”

“I’ve had time to adjust to letting it go for this reason. Despite what happened between us today, I trust that you will not misuse it. Your companies are solid and ethical, and they’ll last for a long time. They’ll be a good home for it.”

He watches me. His eyes change emotion fast but I’m too wiped out to understand them. I look away, exhausted. He steps back abruptly and starts pacing. His posture is odd. Like he is on some invisible tether and would much rather walk a different direction. Eventually, he stops pacing and turns to me.

“I’ll buy your supplement.” He sounds tired, or resigned.

“Then we have a deal. Thank you,” I say and I mean it. Awful though he was today, he is also helping. You can’t force someone to want you. But you can be hurt and pissed. And I’m both but I’ll deal with it on my own.

“Shall we go back to Bob and let him know?” I ask.

He nods but his eyes are far away.

We walk out of the small room to the large conference hall. I’m sure I look like I was crying but I can’t do anything about it. When they see us come in, the lawyers sit back down.

“Elisa, have you made a decision?” Bob addresses me, ignoring the man who is paying his bill.

“Yes, I have. I’ll go with the permanent investment option. Mr. Hale will buy my supplement and I’ll invest the money in one of his businesses.”

“It’s a good option. But I have to warn you that even with this, there is a good chance that the visa won’t come on time. We’ll do our absolute best but I still want you to be prepared that you may have to go to England for a while and then come back.”

“How long would I have to be in England?”

“A few months. If it gets approved. If it does not, you’d be stuck there until a different opportunity presents itself, if one does. So it would be prudent for you to still say your goodbyes and live as if this may not work out. It’s always traumatic when the immigrant has not prepared for the worst. It haunts them for life.” Bob’s voice becomes very quiet, and he leans across the table. “How does that sound, Elisa?”

I smile at the kind man. “It sounds as good as it can.” I can live through a few months in England if it means I’m coming back. True, it’s still an “if” but it will have to do.

“And lastly, dear, you said you’ve modeled for Feign Art sometimes. Does anyone else know about that involvement?”

Javier but there is no way I’m implicating him. That’s a secret even from my lawyer. “Mr. Hale, Feign and my family.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way because if it comes out, it can jeopardize you. After all, it was illegal work. It’s best if you avoid any involvement with Feign Art altogether.”

“I promise. Is there anything else I can do to help the process?”

“Just follow the rules and don’t risk any trouble. Don’t work at the lab now that your student visa is expired. And don’t get into any situations that may cast doubt on your moral character. Fair or unfair, the CIS expects green card applicants to be squeaky clean.”

“I understand—I’ll be careful. I want to spend this time with my family anyway.”

Bob smiles. “Very good. Now, Mr. Hale, you can transfer the money into our client trust account and we’ll hold it until it’s ready to be released.”

Aiden simply nods. His face looks carved in stone.

“On a more personal note, Elisa—” Bob turns to me, “—I’d like to represent you pro bono. You qualify for it and if you were my daughter—no offense, Mr. Hale—I wouldn’t want you tied to the pocket of any man.”

“Bob, that’s very kind of you. Truly. But I can’t—” I start to protest, but Bob waves his hand gently.

“It’s the least we can do for someone so bright. Consider it a service to my own country if that will make the charity easier to accept.”