Chapter Text
Eddie came back 10 minutes later as Richie was finishing up his call.
“Is that your family?”
“Yep.”
“They tell you to quit?”
“Every single day.”
Eddie tried to suppress another smile as Richie’s phone rang again.
“Bergen and Malloy want to see you upstairs immediately.”
Eddie groaned loudly.
“Okay. Come get me in 10 minutes. We got a lot of work to do.”
“Okey-doke boss.”
Eddie paused. “For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry about this. If we get everything done this weekend you can have next week off to go see your mom. I know it’s not the same, but we really need to get this sorted.”
He walked away without waiting for a reply.
Eddie forced a smile as he entered the office. “Jack, Edwin,” he nodded.
“Edward,” Jack nodded back. “Congratulations on the Oprah thing, that’s terrific news.”
“Thank you, thank you. This isn’t about my second raise, is it?” He forced a laugh. God, he hates small talk.
Thankfully, Edwin cut straight to the point.
“Edward, do you remember when we agreed that you wouldn’t go to the Frankfurt book fair, because you weren’t allowed out of the country while your visa application was being processed?”
“Yes I do.”
“And… you went to Frankfurt.”
“Yes, I did. We were going to lose DeLillo to Viking. So, I didn't really have a choice, did I?”
“Well it seems the United States Government doesn’t care much who published Don DeLillo. We, uh, just spoke to your immigration attourney.”
“Great, so we’re all good? Everything good?”
“Edward, your visa application has been denied.”
“Wha? That-” Eddie stuttered.
“You are being deported,” Jack interrupted.
“Deported?”
“Apparently, there was also some paperwork that you didn’t fill out in time.”
“C’mon!”
“We can reapply, but you have to leave the country,” Edwin paused, “for at least a year.”
Eddie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and counting to five in his head. “Okay. Okay well that’s uh, not ideal but, I can manage everything from Toronto. Y’know, video conferencing, and, uh, internet, y’know I can-”.
“Unfortunately, Edward, if you’re deported, you can’t work for an American company.”
“Until this is resolved, I’m gonna turn operations over to Bob Spaulding.”
“Bob Spaulding? The guy I just fired?”
“We need an editor in chief, he is the only person in the building who has enough experience.”
“You cannot be serious-”
“Edward, we are desperate to have you stay. If there was any way, any way at all that we could make this thing work, we would be doing it.”
“Actually uh,” Eddie floundered. He had to think of something, and fast, if only to buy him a few extra days to get his visa sorted. A knock on the door interrupted his train of thought.
Richie popped his head through.
“Sorry to interrupt, Mary from Ms Winfrey’s office called, she’s on hold, she needs to speak with you right away, I told her you were otherwise engaged, she insisted, so… sorry”.
Eddie paused, and looked at Richie. Engaged. Engaged?
“Come here,” he mouthed.
Richie looked at him, bewildered.
“Come. Here.” Eddie whispered.
Richie looked around sheepishly and entered the office, shoulders hunched and still looking confused.
“Gentlemen,” Eddie started as Richie came to stand beside him. “I understand the predicament we are in, and there’s uh, I think there’s something you should know.”
He steeled himself for a moment. “We are, uh, getting married.” He tapped Richie on the chest. “We are getting married.”
“We are?”
“Getting married, yes.” He forced a smile, and hoped Richie wasn’t about to blow this.
“Isn’t he your secretary?” Malloy asked.
“Assistant,” Richie countered.
“Executive, uh, assistant secretary. Titles. But, uh, wouldn’t be the first time one of us fell for our secretaries, would it Edwin?” He forced a laugh. “So, yeah, the truth is, Richie and I we’re… we are just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love but we did. All those, late nights at the office and weekend book fairs… Something happened. Tried to fight it and… can’t, uh, can’t fight a love like ours. So, are we good with this? Are you happy? Because, well, we are happy. So happy.”
“So happy,” Richie parroted.
“Edward?” said Bergen.
“Yes?”
“It’s terrific. Just make it legal, mm?” He waggled his finger in their direction.
“Oh! Legal! Yeah, well, that means we need to get ourselves to the immigration office. So we can work this whole mess out. Right? Thank you very much gentlemen, we will do that right away, thank you.”
“Gentlemen,” Richie repeated, nodding as he followed Eddie out of the door.
Back in Eddie’s office Richie gently pulled the door shut and rested his forehead against it. “So, Eddie, care to explain exactly what I agreed to here and why?”
“Relax, this helps you too. They were going to make Bob chief.”
“So naturally I would have to marry you.”
When Eddie replied he was uncharacteristically quiet. “I’m being deported.”
Richie whipped around to face him. “To Poland!?”
“To Canada, asshole! I’m from Toronto.”
Richie blinked at him, unfazed.
Eddie sighed. “My dad was from Poland. I was born in Canada.”
Richie made a small “ah” of acknowledgement. ”And what did you do to get deported? Was it tax evasion? Money laundering? Is this job just a front for the mafia? Is that why you never take my recommendations seriously? Is it drugs? Are you secretly smuggling cocaine across the border?” Richie’s eyes widened as he continued. “Did you finally snap and kill a man? Was it Bill for pushing his weird alien child-devouring clown books again? Do you need me to help you hide the body? Ordinarily I’d say no but honestly Bill had it coming,” he grinned.
Eddie just shook his head. “Stupid. Fucking. Paperwork. I forgot to fill some forms in. I was so busy trying to book Frank for that damn Oprah interview, the task I told Bob to do twenty times by the way, that I completely fucking forgot!”
Eddie fished around in his drawer for a second before pulling out an inhaler and taking two puffs.
Richie took a deep breath, hoping Eddie would mirror it and begin to calm down a little. They had helped each other through panic attacks before, but it was never easy, and Richie wanted to avoid one if he could help it.
When he spoke, he spoke gently. “Eddie, Spaghetti, light of my life. This is illegal.”
Eddie scoffed, eyes wide. “They’re looking for terrorists, not book publishers!”
Richie didn’t bite. “I’m not gonna marry you, man.”
“Yes you are, I’ll make it up to you. I will read the book again. I will publish it. I will give you anything you want. Just, please, Richie… Marry me.”
They looked at each other for another moment. Eddie visibly deflated.
“I’m sorry. I know this is a shitty situation. I don’t even know if you’re-” Eddie thought for a second. “Supportive of this. Of, people like me. If you’re not comfortable marrying your boss, or a man, that’s… It’s okay. I’m sorry for springing this on you, I just panicked. There’s nothing in Toronto for me.”
Richie let out a small laugh in shock.
Eddie glared at him.
“Dude. I’m gay.”
Eddie blinked.
“I don’t have a problem marrying you because we’re both guys, Eddie, I just. A little warning would have been nice is all.”
“A little warning about being deported would have been nice too.” He deadpanned, only smiling when Richie laughed.
“Yeah I guess that’s fair. Okay. So we get married. My book gets published. Then what?”
“Well after the allotted period of time we get a quickie divorce and our time together will be done.”
“But until then?”
Eddie paused. “Your wagon is hitched to mine.”
Richie grinned, his eyes widening. “Wait, was that a sex joke, Spaghetti? Are we gonna fu-”
“Beep beep, Richie.” He shook his head. “This is crazy. This is crazy, isn’t it? Oh you’ve done it now Kaspbrak. C’mon,” he motioned, heading back towards the door, not giving Richie a chance to respond. “We have to go to immigration.”