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“No,” I say, cringing. “I can’t get married, let alone pretend to like it.”
“I’d marry you, but everyone knows I’m gayer than a handbag full of rainbows,” Quentin offers.
I smile at him. “I’d marry you, too You’re one of the only people I could stand to be around that much.”
“I could open a Tinder profile for you and vet potential candidates,” he offers.
“I’m not marrying some random guy you find on Tinder.”
I can’t believe I’m even considering this idea. It’s crazy. Relationships are always messy, which is why I swore off of them a long time ago. And marriage is the ultimate relationship.
“Are there immigration attorneys who could help?” I ask Peter hopefully.
“I called one last night. She’s an old friend from law school. Unfortunately, there’s nothing more she’d be able to do, but she said people have managed to delay proceedings with appeals.”
I bury my face in my hands again, wishing I had a Mike Mills voodoo doll.
“But let me guess, my appeal process would go quickly because the red tape will magically disappear.”
Peter presses his lips together and nods. “The governor’s office is a powerful one.”
I’m not going back to Russia. Given the things my father and grandfather have done, I wouldn’t be safe there. Mills probably knows that. It’s probably funny to him that I could be dead before my flight back to Moscow even lands.
With a deep breath, I sit up straight and fold my hands on my desk. I’m not some shrinking violet that Mills can toy around with. I’m Mila Fucking Pavlova. All I have to do is remove the emotion from this situation and see it as a business decision.
“Sounds like we’ll be having a wedding,” I say. “First up, we need to find a groom.”
Quentin squeals with excitement. “You’re going to be a vision with that long dark hair and fair skin. A blush-colored dress would be so fab.”
Peter lets out a gruff grunt and gets up from his seat. “I don’t think I can help with this part.”
Once Quentin and I are alone, he grabs a pen and paper and sits down in front of my desk.
“Okay, this has to be someone I trust completely.”
Quentin nods, tapping the end of his pen on the notebook. “Someone who also has an interest in you staying here.”
“The only people who meet that criteria are people who work for the team. If I go down, we all go down.”
“Dominic Locke?” he suggests.
I don’t respond, but inwardly, I’m cringing. Dom is a notorious player who loves the sound of his own voice. I’d have to put tape over his mouth to survive living with him.
“Maybe,” I say weakly.
“Oh.” He leans forward, his eyes lighting up. “Colby Harrison. He’s single and makes all my bells jingle, if you know what I mean.”
I nod, considering him as an option. He’s right about Colby being easy on the eyes. Since this is going to be a fake marriage, it doesn’t matter if we’re attracted to each other, but we need it to be believable.
“Ask him to come to my office for a meeting,” I say, the wheels turning quickly in my mind. “We need to take care of this as fast as we can.”
Quentin leaves the room and I smile, wishing I could see Mills’ face when news of my pending nuptials breaks. He’ll make it his life’s mission to prove my marriage is fake, so I’ll have to stay one step ahead of him.
Assuming, of course, that I can convince Colby to marry me. I’ve had to talk my way in and out of many business deals, but this proposition will be unique to say the least.
I unlock the desk drawer that contains my personal checkbook and set it on my desk, then think better of it and return it to the drawer. This deal is probably going to cost me, but I need to be smarter about it than writing a check.
Maybe Colby wants a mountain retreat or an oceanfront cottage. Whatever it is that will make him agree to this, I have the means to buy it for him.
Mills is about to find out that money can make any problem go away.
CHAPTER FOUR
Colby
I take off the backwards baseball hat I’m wearing after walking down the stairs to the basement level in the temporary location of our team’s front office. Not really the right vibe for a meeting with the team owner.
After lunch, I went for a run with Nolan on a local trail, originally wearing the hat to keep the sun out of my eyes. Fortunately, I was able to shower and change into clean clothes back in the locker room here, which is where I was when Mila’s assistant Quentin sent me a text that she wanted to meet with me as soon as possible.
