Until You

Liliane smiled nervously. "There is no need to concern yourself with that. You are much in demand."

But? Miranda waited. The word, unspoken, hung in the air.

"But..." The booker smoothed her hands over her skirt as she stood up and came out from behind her desk. "We had a visit from some man from the government yesterday."

Miranda tried to smile. "He wasn't an elevator inspector, was he?"

Lilian frowned. "No, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"Just a bad joke, sorry. Go on, tell me. What did he want?"

"He said—I know it is a mistake, Miranda, I said so at once." Liliane frowned. "He said that your work permit is no longer valid."

Miranda bolted from her chair. "What? Liliane, don't be silly! My papers are fine!"

"I said as much to him, of course, but I am afraid I can give you no assignments until the matter is clarified." Liliane put her arm around Miranda's waist and walked her to the door. "You must take this up with your embassy. Surely, they can sort it out."

* * *

Surely, they could not.

A round-faced woman whose desk plate identified her as Mrs. Tully assured Miranda in the most pleasant way that her permit had not expired.

"Your modeling agency misunderstood," she said. "The problem is with your visa."

"My visa?"

"I'm afraid so."

"What's wrong with it?"

"I don't know, exactly."

Miranda's eyes narrowed. "Then, send me on to someone who does know, exactly."

Mrs. Tully smiled again. Dammit, was she paid to smile or to solve problems for Americans in France?

"We can't do a thing on this end. I'm afraid you'll have to return to the States and reapply."

"Reapply?" Miranda said in disbelief.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks to sort things out."

"You're telling me I have to return to America and reapply for a visa that's been perfectly acceptable for years?" Miranda glared at the woman. "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard!"

So much for Mrs. Tully's professional smile. It vanished, as did her unctuous tone.

"The embassy suggests you make arrangements to leave France immediately, Miss Beckman."

"And if I don't?"

"Rules are rules," the woman said stiffly. "I don't make them, I only follow them."

Miranda took a deep breath.

"Where is he?" she demanded.

"Where is who?" Mrs. Tully pushed back her chair an inch or two.