“So tomorrow is the big day, right?” Holden twisted the cap off a beer and slid it across his kitchen table to me. “You have to give Maya your decision?”
I frowned. “Don’t remind me.”
“You know what you’re going to do?”
Over the last week, I’d flip-flopped a half dozen times. The problem was, my head thought one thing was right, and my heart had a different idea. I sighed. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to change my mind twenty times between now and eight AM tomorrow.”
Holden nodded. “I get it. I can’t even decide which sneakers to put on most days, much less the shit you’re dealing with. What does Billie think of all this?”
“She’s been pretty damn amazing. Not sure I would be as supportive as she’s been if the shoe were on the other foot and she was considering marrying some other dude. But Billie’s been adamant that she thinks I should marry Maya.”
Holden eyebrows jumped. “Really?”
“She doesn’t want me to put Saylor at risk in any way. She said neither of our feelings matter, only protecting my little girl.”
“Wow.”
I drank some of the beer in front of me. “I know. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You wanna know something fucked up?”
Holden smirked. “Fucked up is my middle name, my friend.”
“Last night I had a dream that Billie was pregnant with our baby. She was like six months along and had this big, round belly, and I couldn’t keep my damn hands off of her.”
My buddy smiled. “Have you told her you’re in love with her yet?”
I shook my head. “Not in so many words. To be honest, I sort of chickened out and told her I was falling for her instead of already in love with her.”
“How come?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t feel fair to lay that on her with everything going on. I don’t want to make it harder for her to walk away if that’s what she needs to do.”
“You’ve been talking, but have you listened to what you’ve said the last few minutes? You’re both putting each other first, over your own happiness. She’d rather you marry some other broad to protect Saylor, and you don’t want to tell her you love her so it makes it easier for her to dump your ass. Do you really think not saying the words makes them any less true for either of you?”
I ran my finger over the condensation on the beer bottle’s label. “I guess not. But it feels selfish to put that on her right now.”
Holden caught my eyes. “I’ve been there. But you know what failing to speak your truth gets you?”
“What?”
“A night of watching the girl you’re crazy about hold hands with her fiancé years later. Which in turn makes you get shitfaced drunk and go home with a random woman who yells out the wrong name when she orgasms and then hands you your pants ten minutes later as she tells you she needs to get up early the next morning.”
My brows drew together. “You saw Lala?”
Holden nodded. “Played a gig in Philly the other night. She came in with her fiancé, Dr. Douchebag.”
“What did he do that makes him a douchebag?”
My friend looked me square in the eyes. “He was holding Lala’s hand.”
It was the first time Holden had spoken about Lala—what we called Ryan’s little sister Laney—since the week after Ryan’s funeral, when he’d gotten drunk and admitted to me that he’d had feelings for her for a very long time. I’d suspected as much, but I’d kept my mouth shut because it was none of my business. Besides, Lala could handle herself. She was smarter than all of us boneheads put together.
“How is she?”
“All grown up…” Holden looked away for a moment. “My point is, if you think she’s the one, tell her. Don’t beat around the bush or feel guilty for the way you feel. Take it from me, there’s a reason love and lose are only one letter apart. It’s so damn easy to miss the boat and wind up with the wrong one.”
Damn. And here I’d thought his crush on Lala had long passed. Holden was the last person I would’ve thought could give insightful advice on love, yet he’d gotten his point across loud and clear. I nodded. “Thanks, buddy. You’re right. I’m going to nut up and make sure Billie knows I’m more than falling for her.”
He nodded. “So how does it work if you marry Maya? Do you move in with her and shit?”
“No fucking way. It would be a piece of paper only. I wouldn’t have any contact with her at all other than the interview required for immigration. I’ve been reading up. My lawyer had said the process usually takes about nine months, but I’ve also read that sometimes shit slows down, and it can take a few years. The only possible way I could do it is if I could forget Maya exists during that time. I wouldn’t even want to know where she lives.”
“Not to make things more complicated, but what happens if Billie gets pregnant during that time? Something unplanned pops up? Could you get out of the sham marriage if you needed to? Like, get a quickie divorce or an annulment? I mean, shit like that happens every day in real life, right? Is there an escape clause of any sort?”
I dragged a hand through my hair. “I have no damn idea. But the lawyer I met with said sometimes cases can be fast tracked when someone is in jeopardy of being deported and has a child who’s a US citizen. He said we could request that, but there’s no guarantee.”
“Would Saylor meet her?”
“Definitely not. Maya only came back into our lives to use her as a bargaining chip. This isn’t a woman who realized she’d made a big mistake and truly wants to get to know her daughter. I see nothing but hurt if Saylor got to know her as her biological mother—or in any capacity, for that matter.”
“Will you put her on your health insurance at work and tell people and stuff? What about if, God forbid, something happens to you? Does that mean Maya gets custody? And do you have a will? I had an uncle who was married for six months. His wife was cheating on him for their entire short-lived marriage, but he dropped dead of a heart attack before they were legally divorced, and she got his house and stuff. Is there a way around that, just in case?”
I blew out two cheeks full of hot air and shook my head. “You’re making my damn head spin, Holden.”
“Sorry, man. I’m just trying to help.”
I nodded. “I know you are, buddy. And I appreciate that more than you know. If I do decide to go through with it, I’m going to have to sit with my attorney and ask all those questions before anything happens, to make sure Saylor and I are adequately protected. Right now, though, I just need to not talk about it anymore.”
“No problem. Why don’t we talk about my favorite subject…” Holden grinned and sipped his beer. “Me.”
I chuckled. “That sounds perfect. Tell me what’s going on with you lately. Aside from seeing Lala and her fiancé. I’m sure you’ve amassed at least a dozen new stories you can amuse me with since we last spoke.”
Holden guzzled the rest of his beer. “Well, I did almost get a Prince Albert the other day.”
My brows shot up. “You were going to get your dick pierced?”
“Not on purpose. But it almost happened accidentally.”
I shook my head with a smile. This was exactly what I needed right now—Holden’s crazy life. “I’ll bite. How exactly do you almost accidentally pierce your dick?”
Holden wagged his finger at me. “That’s a very good question. But before I explain, let me preface by saying that I sort of went on a tear after seeing Lala and Dr. Douchebag. I know now that I was trying to fill a void by spending too much time talking to women on Tinder, so I don’t need a lecture. Plus, I already got one from Owen when I told him this story. Anyway, I found this one woman who made it clear she was looking for a good time and nothing more. We met at a bar and had one drink, and then she suggested we take an Uber somewhere so she could go down on me in the backseat. She was into the driver watching through the rearview mirror as he drove.”
I shook my head. “Only you, my friend.”
“She was really cute, too. Redhead with a tatted arm—sort of a Billie vibe.” He winked. “Probably why I was into her.”
“Don’t even joke, buddy.”
He laughed. “Just teasing. Her name was Ryland, and she had one of those small, hoop nose rings. We get into the Uber, and she wastes no time dropping her head into my lap. After, I suggested we go back to her place, so I could return the favor—you know, because I’m a gentleman and all. But she tells me it’s that time of the month and suggests we meet up next week at a different bar. She wants me to go down on her in the ladies’ room while she’s sitting on the sink without the door locked.”
“Is she an exhibitionist or something?”
Holden shrugged. “I think so, but I’m game. Whatever floats your boat as long as no one gets hurt in the process, right? Anyway, we call it a night, and I take the train back to the bar where we’d met. It was a nice day, so I’d ridden my motorcycle and needed to pick it up. But when I hopped on, the damn battery was dead. I had to push seven-hundred pounds to a hill so I could roll it down an incline and jump on to bump start it. When I did that, I felt a sharp pinch at the base of my dick. It hurt like a motherfucker and wouldn’t let up. I actually had to turn the bike off and go back into the bar to use the men’s room to see what the hell was going on. Turns out, my redheaded exhibitionist lost her little hoop nose ring while blowing me. The thing was damn sharp, and it somehow wound up in my underwear. It had pierced the skin at the base of my dick. Hence, an almost accidental Prince Albert.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re a train wreck.” I laughed my ass off. “But thanks, man. I really needed that.”
“Anytime. I’m here for whatever I can give.”
***
The following morning, I still had no idea what I was going to do as I walked to the coffee shop to meet Maya. The sight of her as I opened the door physically repulsed me—my stomach lurched into my throat and I tasted bile. I hated that this woman had anything to do with my sweet, innocent daughter.
She smiled as I took the seat across from her. “I ordered you coffee and breakfast. If I recall correctly, you made me pancakes the morning after we spent the night together, so I figured that was a safe choice.”
If only eyes could actually shoot daggers. “I’m not hungry.”
Maya sighed and folded her hands on the table. “Fine. I was trying to be friendly. Why don’t we just cut to the chase then, shall we? Are we getting married or not?”
Fuck. I don’t want to make this decision.
Yet she sat with zero emotion on her face, waiting for an answer.
I couldn’t help myself. Leaning forward, I glared at her. “How the hell can you do this? Use your own child? Were you abused as a kid? Tortured? Neglected by your own parents so badly that you no longer have a basic respect for humanity? Molested? There’s got to be a fucking reason.”
She looked down at her watch like I was boring her. “Is that a yes or a no?”
Nothing I said or did knocked this woman off her game. She had a one-track mind, and that scared the living shit out of me. It meant she would stop at nothing to get what she needed, regardless of who got hurt. I closed my eyes and prayed for strength before opening them again.
“I want everything filed by my attorney, not yours. I don’t trust anyone associated with you. I’m only marrying you so you can stay in this country and will leave my daughter alone. After it’s done, don’t contact me. I’m pretending this sham of a marriage never happened.”
“Fine. What’s your attorney’s name?”
“Adam Altman,” I said through gritted teeth.
Maya reached to the back of her chair and dug into her purse, pulling out a cell phone. She typed for a minute and then looked up. “On Fifty-Third?”
I nodded.
She clicked around a few more times before lifting her cell to her ear. Her eyes never left my face as she spoke. “Hello, I’d like to make an appointment with Mr. Altman, please.”
She was quiet for a moment, then… “Yes, a rather urgent immigration issue. Would he have anything available right away? Tomorrow, perhaps? I know it’s a Saturday, but we really need to speak to someone as soon as possible.”
Quiet again. She covered the phone and leaned forward. “Tomorrow at three PM?”
“Fine.”
I vaguely paid attention as she spoke for the next few minutes, giving both our names and other information to make the appointment. When she hung up, she looked pleased with herself. “All set. I’ll meet you there.”
“Can’t wait,” I grumbled.
“So tell me, how is Marisol doing? Is she healthy and thriving?” Maya shook her head. “I mean Saylor? That’s what you call her now, correct?”
“Do you even really give a shit?”
“Of course. She was named after my grandmother, you know.”
“Oh yeah? Did your grandmother raise your mother?”
Maya’s forehead wrinkled. “Yes.”
“Well, I’m glad her original name was from a good mother and not you, at least.” I pushed away from the table and stood. “By the way, she’s Saylor because you left without even telling me her name. I had to call her something. I’ll be there tomorrow at three.”
***
Maya showed up the next afternoon with her attorney. Xavier Hess was as crooked as his client.
“I have someone on the inside at the local immigration office,” he said. “I’ll get the case pulled and fast tracked as soon as the paperwork is filed.”
My attorney shook his head. “I don’t want any part of anything illegal.”
“Nothing illegal about having friends. Don’t tell me you’ve never schmoozed a judge’s clerk to get your case called first because you had a packed day?”
“As long as that’s all it is.”
“How long will it take if we get it fast tracked?” I asked.
“Probably only a few months,” Xavier said.
“Good. I’d like to be divorced by year’s end.”
My attorney frowned. “Colby, you’re going to have to keep those kinds of comments to yourself. I can’t represent you if I believe your marriage to Maya is a sham.”
For the first time since the evil witch walked back into my life, Maya looked a little nervous. She reached into my lap and took my hand. “It’s not a sham marriage. Colby just has a dark sense of humor, right, sweetheart?”
I yanked my hand away.
My attorney looked between us before speaking. “You’ll need to know each other very well. The interview process is not always simple. They sometimes ask invasive questions that a husband and wife should know about each other.”
My brows pulled together. “Like what?”
“Anything they want. How quickly did you have sex for the first time? How many siblings do you each have? What was the proposal like? Your answers need to be in sync, or you’ll be referred for a fraud interview. Like I told you the other day, the penalty for attempting to defraud the government by marrying someone for immigration status is up to five years in prison and a two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar fine.”
Maya’s attorney spoke up. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. These two have a four-year-old child together. This isn’t a mail-order-bride situation.”
I was about to say it was worse, I was being fucking blackmailed. But I stopped myself, knowing my attorney had some scruples. Instead, I swallowed the information. Besides, we hadn’t done anything illegal yet anyway, so there was still time for me to pull out. After another half hour, I told my attorney I’d be in touch if and when we wanted to file an application for citizenship. But I still had a few questions about things I could do to protect myself before entering into a marriage, and I didn’t want to ask those in front of Maya. So I told her and her attorney I needed a few minutes alone with my lawyer. Maya said she’d wait outside for me.
I really wished she would have just left—today had been draining enough—but of course she didn’t. She and the shyster attorney were waiting outside on the street when I walked out of the building.
“Are we all set?” she asked.
“I don’t know if we could even pull this off. We don’t know anything about each other. How the hell can we pass an interview with intrusive questions like my attorney mentioned?”
“There are businesses that will prep you,” Xavier said. “I’ll give Maya a few numbers she can call.”
“Prep you? What does that mean?”
“Immigration interview preparation services. They maintain a database of commonly asked interview questions. You both answer them and swap answers, so you can memorize how you’ll need to respond. A few are even pretty high-tech these days and can be done right online.”
I frowned and shook my head. “People make a living off helping other people defraud the government. Great. God bless America.”
“Think of it as test prep, Colby,” Xavier said. “When you want to be a lawyer, you take a Kaplan review course and study practice questions from previous bar exams. It doesn’t mean you still can’t fail, but the more you practice, the more likely it is that you’ll be well prepared and there won’t be any surprises.”
The entire thing was gross, but what choice did I have? I shook my head. “Whatever. Fine.”
Maya’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay, good. Now that we have things squared away, why don’t we meet Monday morning?”
“For what?”
“To get our marriage license, of course. Then we can have the ceremony Tuesday.”
