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I scoffed and twisted off the cap to the tequila. “First off, beauty comes from the inside, so you’re as ugly as they come. And second, if so many men would be lucky to marry you, why aren’t you here with one of them?”

Maya looked around. “Lower your voice. And you know the answer to that. Because a marriage that occurs right when the government is trying to deport you is questionable. It’s more believable if I’ve been with someone for a few years, and we have a child together.”

“We don’t have a child. A child is someone you put first in your life, someone you love and protect. I have a child. You have a fucking chess piece.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But you need to slow down on the drinking, because if the officiant thinks you’re drunk, he might deem you to not have the capacity to marry.”

I snorted. “The capacity to marry… When did you go to law school?”

“Just because I was a stripper doesn’t mean I’m not educated.”

“My judgment of you has nothing to do with your profession, sweetheart. It has everything to do with your actions. Only a dumb bitch would take off on her kid with no warning. Newsflash: I’m an adult who doesn’t shun my responsibilities. I would’ve taken her if you were struggling, and we could have worked something out for you to visit once in a while.”

For the first time since she walked back into my life, Maya’s face fell. At that moment, a man opened the door we were sitting outside of.

“Lennon and Moreno!” he yelled.

I chugged the tequila in one gulp and held my hand up. “Is it our time to go before the firing squad?”

“He’s joking,” Maya said. She turned and flashed me a warning glare. “Right, honey?”

The guy didn’t look like he gave two shits one way or the other. He looked right, then left, and spoke in a monotone voice. “Where’s your witness?”

“Witness?” Maya said. “I thought you supplied them.”

He shook his head. “That’s not how it works. It’s clearly printed in the brochure you receive when you come in to apply for your marriage license. No witness, no wedding.”

“Ummm… Can you just give me one minute?” Maya asked.

“That’s about all I can give you. You’re the last ceremony of the day, and they cut our budget again, so no more overtime. We close at four sharp; that’s why the last appointment is three forty-five.”

“I’ll just be one minute. I promise.”

The man shrugged and went back into the clerk’s office.

I cackled. “Guess you didn’t think of everything.”

Maya narrowed her eyes. “Wait here and don’t drink anything else.”

I responded by taking yet another bottle of tequila from inside my jacket pocket and twisting the cap with a smile.

Maya shook her head before storming off.

She came strolling back down the hall three minutes later with a guy who looked like he might be homeless. He didn’t even have shoes on. “Let’s go,” she said. “Frank is our witness.”

I reached into my pocket and offered Frank a mini bottle of tequila. “Want one?”

He snatched it out of my hand and looked at Maya. “You’re still paying me the hundred bucks.”

I wobbled a little. “You might want to get it from her now. She can’t be trusted.”

Maya glared, but Frank was smart enough to heed my warning. He held out his hand, palm up. “Give me the hundred or I’m leaving.”

She dug into her purse. “You better have the ID you say you have.”

A few minutes later, our lovely threesome was standing in the clerk’s office. I’d expected we were going in to sign some papers before going into some sort of courtroom, but apparently a New York City courthouse wedding didn’t actually happen in court. The clerk didn’t even come out from behind the counter.

“Would you like to join hands?” he asked.

Maya went to take my hands, but I yanked them from her grip. “Is that necessary?”

The clerk frowned. “No, it’s not.”

I shoved my hands into my pants pockets. “Then let’s get this over with.”

The clerk looked between us. “Is there a problem?”

The alcohol had started to hit me, and that always brought out my sense of humor. At least, I thought so. I shrugged. “Nah, my religion just prohibits me from touching her before we’re married.” I snort-laughed again. “Too bad it doesn’t prohibit sleeping with strippers, huh, Father?”

“Umm…I’m not a priest. I’m a city employee, a clerk of the court.”

“I was wondering why you didn’t have one of those collars on. Those things are probably hot as balls in the summer, huh? Like wearing a turtleneck.”

Maya’s eyes drilled into me. “Why don’t we let the man do his job and marry us?” She plastered on a pageant-worthy smile and looked at the clerk. “He tells jokes when he’s nervous. I’m sorry.”

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