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“He’s an orthopedic surgeon, a widower, forty-two years old. But why on earth would he agree to marry me? We barely know each other.” I didn’t hate the idea. It was insane, of course, and presumably temporary, but it was oddly appealing. I enjoyed Michael’s company.
But it was marriage we were talking about, not sushi and sex.
Actually, not real marriage. Just a fake engagement to buy me time to sort this out. But why the hell would Michael ever agree to something like that? He wouldn’t.
“Stranger things have happened. But you’re right. There isn’t exactly an incentive there besides the ability to have you as a snack whenever he wants.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Well, isn’t that a charming way to put it? No. He’s off the list. I will not sell myself as a bed warmer to stay in New York. I’ll just go home to London.” Where I hadn’t lived in nearly a decade, had no real friends to speak of, a viral video scandal, and a father I did not want to see.
“There is always that. What about any of your other guy friends here?”
I mentally scrolled thro
ugh our crowd. “They’re all gay or in a relationship. I honestly don’t have a huge friend roster, you know that. I live like a hermit.”
“You do. I mean, I didn’t even know you weren’t home tonight. I assumed you were in your room.”
“You’re doing an excellent job of both making me feel better and problem solving, thanks so much. Bravo, Javier.” I rolled my eyes at him.
My phone chirped in my bag and I pulled it out, needing a distraction. It was a text from Michael asking if I’d made it home okay.
Yes, thanks, I appreciate it.
I’ll see you Thursday, then.
Right.
Is everything okay?
Yes, just got some off-putting news from INS.
Oh, no, sorry to hear that. What’s going on?
I debated if I should tell Michael or not, then figured he had the right to now. He might choose not to see me anymore if I was going to disappear in a month. He was looking for a relationship, after all.
Wait a minute.
He was looking for a relationship.
So, maybe he wouldn’t think getting engaged was completely insane? I decided to tell him what was happening.
It seems I might get deported.
What? Do you have a lawyer? Or need help finding one?
I definitely needed a lawyer. Or you know, a husband.
Maybe. I’ll let you know at dinner. Thanks, xxx
Let me know if you want to talk tomorrow. Good night, Felicia.
“Why are you a hermit?” Javier asked. “I thought you used to be the girl about town? That’s the way everyone still describes you, you know.”
That was a story I didn’t really want to get into. It involved a man I’d dated and the wife I hadn’t known existed along with some rather embarrassing video that had briefly gone viral. Precisely the reason why I didn’t want to go back to London. I was a bit of a social pariah at the moment through no fault of my own. Well, my fault in the sense that I’d chosen a man to date who was an utter asshole.
“I don’t have time to be a lay-about.” That was as much as I wanted to get into it with Javier. He was a great roommate and friend, but he wasn’t the most sympathetic creature on the planet.
“I wasn’t talking about being lazy. I was talking about socializing.”
