His tone and expression suggested he was not, however, surprised. Jorge gave her a quick hug and then backed away.
She slung her heavy bag over her shoulder—she hadn’t even checked into her hotel yet—and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “So . . . put me to work.”
“Why don’t we chat first?” He gestured for her to follow him through the crowded room. “My office is this way.”
Gretchen stepped over a box overflowing with baby clothes. Her heart clenched. She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to be forced to flee your home country with a baby. “Are you sure? It looks like there’s a lot to do.”
“We have plenty of help. Come on in.” Jorge led her into a small office that obviously doubled as a storage room for donations that had already been catalogued. He shut the door, and Gretchen walked to the window overlooking the front of the building.
“Is that true?” Gretchen asked, pointing at the sign about Obama.
“Doubt it. I’ve been in this building for a long time, and I never once saw Obama go there.” He sat down at his desk and motioned for her to take the chair opposite him.
“I’m sorry to give you such short notice,” she said.
“I’m not going to complain. I had given up on you.”
They traded the normal pleasantries. His twin girls had started middle school this year and asked for new phones for Christmas, and his wife was working for the Smithsonian now and would love to see her soon. Gretchen shared nothing of her own life. What would she say? The truth was too mortifying. Even if Jorge had been a friend for a long time, he was still about to become her boss. What kind of impression would it make to admit she was only here because her brother was essentially blackmailing her, and she was nursing a broken heart that might never heal?
But Jorge wasn’t stupid, and she saw a probing glint in his eyes as he leaned forward. “So, you’re here about the job.”
“Yes.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I reviewed everything you sent me, and I think you’re right. It’s a good fit.”
“Just like that?”
“You know me. When I make a decision, I don’t like to waste time.”
He studied her skeptically. “Well, I’m not going to lie. Our work can be frustrating. Sometimes I feel like we’re talking to ourselves, and the only time anyone actually pays attention to us is during election years. And just when we think we’ve got a shot at getting an audience on the Hill for some of our legislative priorities . . .” He paused to shrug. “Well, immigration reform makes for a great stump speech, but I’ve yet to meet a politician who is willing to risk reelection to do the right thing.”
“You sound like you’re trying to talk me out of the job.”
“I just want to make sure you’re fully aware of how different your daily life will be on this side of the immigration effort. We don’t work directly with clients the way you do now. We work as a clearinghouse to connect clients with attorneys around the nation, but our primary function is to draft legislation and raise awareness.”
“I understand.”
“I realize it might take you a while to shut things down in Nashville—”
“My paralegal and office manager are going to take over for now until we can hire a new lead attorney. I can start immediately.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That fast, huh?”
“No reason to wait. We’re entering a new election year, and as you said, that’s when things get really busy. I’m actually thinking I might come in tomorrow to review a few things and—”
“Gretchen, tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”
“I know. I like working Christmas. There are no distractions. Obviously, I don’t expect you to work too.”
Jorge ran a hand down his cheek and spoke carefully. “You know how badly I want you to work here.”
His abrupt interruption made the hair on the back of her neck stand erect. “I know.”
“Tell me what’s really going on.”
She swallowed. “Nothing. I reconsidered, and I think this is a good job for me.”
“Do you remember how we first met?”
She blinked at the change in subject. Of course she remembered, but why he was bringing it up now was a mystery. They had both stayed behind at Georgetown for Christmas break—Jorge because he couldn’t afford an international flight home, and she because she wasn’t exactly welcome at home. But she’d lied to him when he asked why she was staying. She told him she didn’t have any family to go home to. It was sort of true. Even then, her family had felt like strangers.