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I made a mental note to return these friends to the store and get new, less contentious ones.
“Keep laughing at my business ventures. I just might release one of these jars’ contents in your house one day.”
They both shifted in their stools, probably remembering the sheer amount of chili con carne I consumed during the days I’d filled those jars. I wasn’t really keeping them for anthropology experiments. I was keeping them because the knowledge amused my friends, and even though we often gave each other shit—zero pun intended—I enjoyed seeing people I cared about happy.
“Back to the subject—so you’re really getting married?” Arsène eyeballed me.
“Yeah.” I polished off my drink and reached for the second bottle immediately. “But you’re right, there is a stipulation involved. She needs a green card.”
Christian frowned. “How is her needing a green card your problem? You didn’t knock her up, did you?”
I shuddered. The idea of touching Daphne made my skin turn inside out. She’d probably ask me to bathe in Purell and deep-peel my cock beforehand.
“We’re not involved like that. I’m doing her a solid.”
“What’s in it for you?” Arsène insisted.
“She caught me nailing her boss and blackmailed me into it. The boss is married and high profile,” I explained. “Turns out, her timing was perfect. I need a placeholder. A responsibility. An excuse not to do a shitty taskDiscoveryis asking me to do.”
“You need responsibility? Get a fucking hamster,” Arsène suggested.
“You do realize this is a federal offense. You could get fined out of your ass.” It was Christian’s turn to shit all over my parade.
“Since when does Riggs care about money?” Arsène wondered aloud. “He’s been beefing with the concept ever since we met him.”
“We both need this cover story,” I said mildly. “It’s a done deal.”
“You’re digging yourself a pool-size hole.” Christian scowled.
“More room for me.” I tipped my beer up in acheersgesture.
Christian pointed at me with his drink. “You can’t just marry someone for a green card. There are rules, regulations; you’ll have to meet specific requirements to make her eligible for a visa.”
“Break it down to him,” Arsène goaded, a cruel smirk on his lips. “Use simple words. Maybe some illustrations on a napkin.”
My grin widened. They were giving me shit because I was good looking, rich, and worked a job I loved. Christian, meanwhile, worked his ass off to support his lifestyle, and Arsène did what he did because of deep-seated daddy issues.
“For one thing, you’ll need to live together,” Christian explained. “And have utility bills with both your names on them.”
“That’s not a problem.” I shrugged off this piece of news.
Actually, it was a MAJOR FUCKING PROBLEM, but I’d already gotten so much shit from them about this stupid marriage, I wasn’t backing down on principle. “She’s already offered that I move in with her. What else?”
“You’ll need to establish some kind of history together. You’ll have to take mutual pictures, introduce each other to people in your lives, book vacations together, the whole shebang,” Christian proceeded. “There’s a list somewhere online, and it’s extensive. Immigration law officers are no dum-dums. They’d want receipts to back up your story. I can refer you to a colleague of mine. She is a star immigration lawyer, but she ain’t cheap.”
This whole thing sounded intense. Much more intense than Duffy led me to believe.
The green-haired girl glided her elbows across the bar, getting in my face just as I was shoving my arms into my leather jacket.
“Hey. So, you probably don’t remember me, after everything you’ve been through ... with your emergency surgery ... and the amnesia ...”
Staring at her, I pretended to be confused. In my periphery, Christian and Arsène tittered like two teenage girls sharing a secret. I couldn’t believe these asshats had saddled me with a side plot of a soap opera.
“But I just want you to know that if you ever want to, uh, talk to anyone, I’m here. My aunt was in a coma for three days, so I know how it is.”
Jesus Christ, I needed to stop lying to avoid me having to call her the next day. Or at least keep a notepad on my phone to keep all my lies straight.
“Thank you.” I reached to squeeze her hand. “You’ll never know how much I appreciate it.”
