“Well,” Emily sighed, “I was planning to go at the beginning of July, right after we get the summer releases all tucked away. Now, though—”

“Listen,” Derian said, “Henrietta won’t be back to work by then, but I’m sure the agency will run without you for—what—two or three weeks?”

Emily laughed. “I’m quite sure it can. Vonnie could probably run everything, or most of it, by herself at this point.”

Derian chuckled. “You’re absolutely right.”

“Although now, until my visa situation is straightened out, I don’t want to leave the country.”

“Sorry?” Derian frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, it’s just some kind of snafu,” Emily said quickly. She hadn’t intended to bring her problems to Derian. “It’ll get sorted out as soon as things settle down a bit.”

“What kind of snafu?” Derian said insistently.

“Henrietta was just telling me, right before it happened,” Emily said, “there may be difficulty renewing my visa. Immigration policies have gotten a lot more restrictive, and unless…until the labor application is approved, I’m a little bit in limbo.”

“Who’s handling it?”

“The agency’s attorneys, but I confess, I don’t actually know who.” Emily gasped. “Oh God, I hope it’s not Donatella.”

“Donatella?” Derian frowned. “What has she got to do with anything?”

“Oh, do you know her?”

Derian snorted. “Donatella has been around as long as I have, I think. She’s something of a hatchet man for my father—she takes care of trimming the fat, in his words—weeding out personnel and retooling acquisitions that aren’t producing.” She made a wry face. “I used to think there was something personal between my father and her, and maybe there is, but that’s not something I really want to think about. So what about her?”

Emily had a hard time imagining Donatella Agnelli intimate with anyone, but then, her idea of intimacy was a lot more than just sex. “It’s really not something you need to be worried about right now.”

Derian studied her for a long moment. “Why is that?”

“You’re here for Henrietta, and once she’s well, your job is over. The agency isn’t your problem.”

“How do you know Donatella?” Derian said, ignoring Emily’s attempts to change the subject.

“She showed up this morning at the agency and says she’s in charge.”

“Martin’s idea, I’m sure,” Derian said.

“I didn’t think to ask exactly where she came from. She was already ensconced in Henrietta’s office when I arrived, and it didn’t occur to me that she might not belong there.”

“The lines of command in Winfield Enterprises are pretty tangled, but Martin and Henrietta are siblings, as you know, and inherited all of the family’s holdings when my grandparents passed on. Henrietta didn’t care to be involved, so I understand, in anything other than the agency. She’d already been there from the time she got out of college. In order to keep the peace, my father went along with it, and they basically separated the business interests between the two of them.”

“Formally?” Emily asked.

“I don’t know. I never had any reason to ask. What’s she been doing so far?”

Emily grimaced. “She’s settled into Henrietta’s office, and as of this morning, plans to take over all the major decisions.”

“Dammit,” Derian said. “The last thing Henrietta’s going to need while she’s recovering is some kind of fight over who’s in charge at the agency.”

“Maybe it won’t come to that.”

“Nothing Martin and Donatella might do could be good.” Derian balled up her cashew wrapper and stuffed it in her pocket. “Aud might know what’s going on, if she’ll tell me. She doesn’t handle the agency’s legal business, since Henrietta was smart enough to see that as a conflict of interest, but all the Enterprises attorneys know one another.”

“I’m sorry to drag you into this.”

“Henrietta would want you to run things in her place.”

“I don’t know—”

“I do,” Derian said with conviction. “And we’ll need to see that that happens. I’ll call Aud later today.”

“You’ve got more than enough to worry about. At least let it wait until—”

Derian touched a finger to Emily’s lips. “Let me do this for you. It’s nothing compared to what your being here means to me.”

Emily’s heart raced as her eyes met Derian’s. “Would it do me any good to argue?”

Derian’s thumb whispered over her lips.

“None at all.”

Chapter Fifteen

Dr. Carter Armstrong sauntered into the waiting room a little before noon, looking as polished and superior in a set of rumpled scrubs as he would have in a ten-thousand-dollar suit. His coal-black hair with just the slightest hint of white at the temples was perfectly in place, showing no signs of the surgical cap he’d been wearing when Derian had talked to him right before Henrietta had been taken to the operating room. He zeroed in on her and flashed a practiced smile. “We’re done. She’s fine.”

Derian impulsively wrapped an arm around Emily and pulled her close. After a second of head-spinning relief, she met the surgeon in the middle of the room. “Where is she?”

“In a recovery room, right now. We like to keep the patients close to the OR for a few minutes after we close, just in case—although I don’t expect any problems.”

“Can you tell me what you did?”

He gave her a look as if she might not understand what his greatness had accomplished, but he lifted a shoulder and acquiesced. “As I explained earlier, her coronaries showed multiple levels of blockage, probably as a result of some long-term hyperlipidemia—abnormal fat metabolism—and hypertension. We jumped four grafts to reperfuse the cardiac muscle. Her signs all look great right now.”

“And long-term?”

“Anything can happen, of course, but barring complications and if she sticks to her rehab program, watches her diet, and accepts some reasonable modification in her lifestyle, she should do fine.”

“Define reasonable modification,” Derian said.

“Well, her hypertension appears to have been poorly controlled up until this time, and she’ll need to adhere to whatever program the medical management team institutes. We always suggest cardiac patients moderate their work schedule and reduce stress.” He must have read the disbelief in Derian’s face as he shrugged. “Honestly, the future is up to your aunt—we can only make recommendations. But the surgery was a success.”

“All right, thanks,” Derian said.

“Not at all. The nurses will let you know when she’s been moved to the cardiac care unit.” He turned and walked away.

Derian had a feeling that was the last she would see of him, but if he’d done his job, she was fine with that. She turned to Emily, who’d come to stand beside her. “I didn’t know she had any health problems, and I should have.”

Emily smiled softly. “You don’t really think she would’ve told anyone, do you?”

Derian blew out a breath. “If I’d been around she might have.”

“Derian,” Emily said, “none of this is your fault. You couldn’t have changed this even if you’d been here. Henrietta is Henrietta. You know that.”

A muscle jumped in Derian’s jaw, and she nodded perfunctorily. “You might be right, but I still feel like I let her down.”

Emily grasped her arm. “You didn’t. You’re here, and that’s what she needs.”

“I think you’re a lot more of what she needs than me,” Derian said almost to herself. “When I’m not here, you’re the one she’ll be counting on.”

Emily flinched inwardly, Derian’s words a cold dose of reality. Of course Derian wouldn’t be staying. She might be leaving at any time. Emily squared her shoulders. “Once Henrietta recovers, she is going to get on with her life, and she’ll expect you to get on with yours.”

“Expect me to disappear again, you mean.”

Emily jammed her hands on her hips and gave Derian a look. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who beats herself up over things that can’t be helped. Since you seem to be determined to kick yourself, I think you need to take a break. Get something to eat and probably some sleep.”

Derian grinned wryly. “Diagnosis and treatment plan appreciated, Doctor, but I’m going to stay here until I’ve seen Henrietta. And I promise to stop whining.”

Emily softened. “You can whine all you want, but you still need to take care of yourself.” She glanced at her watch. “I’d like to stay to see her, but I should get back to the agency. Vonnie probably needs some help, and she wanted to come over here on her lunch hour.”

Fleeting panic coursed through Derian’s chest, a sensation she could never recall having before. She didn’t want Emily to go. “When will I see you again?”

Emily’s brows drew down. “I’m sorry?”

“Look,” Derian said, raking a hand through her hair, never having been so off balance in her life. “This is crazy. Every time I see you, we’re in the middle of some kind of crisis. You’ve been keeping me company, hell, keeping me steady, and I want—” Derian broke off. Emily was staring at her like she was a little crazy, and she was. She didn’t know what she was trying to say, what she wanted, but she couldn’t shake the feeling if she let Emily walk away, she’d regret it forever. “I don’t know how well I would’ve done through all of this without you being here.”

“You would’ve done just fine,” Emily said gently. “But I’m glad I was here, and you’ve helped me a lot too.” She paused, felt a tremendous wave of gratitude swell within. “I’ve talked to you about things I’ve never talked to anyone about. It helps. I didn’t realize how much I needed that.”

“Have dinner with me,” Derian said.

Emily laughed, surprise and disbelief in her voice. “What?”

“Tonight. When everything has quieted down, and we’re not both scared and anxious. To celebrate Henrietta’s successful surgery.” Derian took Emily’s hand. “To get to know each other. Please.”