Page 32 of A Life Imagined
“She’d have been grateful her daughters are safe.”
The two girls stared at Rayan with large brown eyes.They were pretty, with angular faces and long dark hair tangled at the ends.He couldn’t help but wonder if they took after their mother.Rayan felt his chest tighten.
“Let me help you keep them that way,” he said, suddenly resolute.He opened the folder and pulled out the application, flipping to the first page.“We’ll try and find a home for you here.Asmarina has talked to you about the process involved in filing?”
Farhan nodded.“Do you think it’s a good idea?”
“It’s the best chance you’ve got.That being said, it can take a long time, and the odds vary.I can’t make any promises, but we will try.”
Farhan gave him a tired smile.“Thank you, Rayan.It seems all we can do is try.”
Chapter Twelve
Mathias returned from picking up their newly reissued import license to find Elise and Vicente perched atop two crates in the warehouse, playing cards.
“You’re very bad at this,” Vicente was saying as Elise handed him a fold of bills.
“One more round.I think I’m getting the hang of it.”
“Back to work!”Mathias barked as he walked past them on his way to the office.“I don’t pay you two to sit around.”
Vicente scrambled to his feet and pocketed the cards and his hard-won cash.Elise followed Mathias into the office and watched as he withdrew a folder from the filing cabinet and slipped the license inside.
“All sorted, then?”she asked.
It had proven more difficult than he’d anticipated—and far more expensive.He’d spent days cleaning up the mess with the trade office, which had demanded he provide six months’ worth of customs-and-clearance records to remove the hold they’d placed on the company.Apparently, someone had reported them on suspicion of importing restricted goods.The irony wasn’t lost on him.
“Don’t encourage him,” Mathias said, changing the subject.“He doesn’t need any more excuses to slack off.”
“Ah, but if he’s good at his job, then who would you take your frustration out on?”Elise said smugly.
Mathias cocked his head.“You.”The phone on his desk rang, and he picked it up.
“Mathias.”
“Heylen.”
“You’re playing hard to get,” the Belgian said.
Mathias eased into his chair.“The wife after a matching coffee table?”
Elise shot him a conspiratorial look and moved over to her desk, clearly listening.
Heylen chuckled into the receiver.“I just had a guy in here who was the former Minister of Energy and Mobility for the Austrian government.”
“And…?”
“I asked him what he’d do if a high-ticket shipment couldn’t get clearance to dock.”
The man was so transparent.Mathias was almost enjoying toying with him.“Is this your idea of a riddle?”
“He thought we could leave it out at sea and wait for the slow churn of bureaucracy.”
Hell, I’ll bite.“So, in all his time in government, he didn’t have a single contact capable of greasing a few wheels?”
Heylen let out a triumphant laugh.“I need you, Mathias.The new business—we’ll split it down the middle.I front the cash, you run the show.”
“I don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”
