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“Yes. And I want it to be perfect.”
“It will be. You’re planning it.”
She shoots up a look at me. Her perfect white teeth and pink lips stretch into a wide smile.
She’s fucking stunning and if all goes well during the meeting, she’ll be my wife.
A few minutes later, we walk into the building.
It’s the typical grey, stark existence of a government building with the slightly stale smell of an older building but I’ll settle for a few hours in a dingy building over the circumstances I thought I was going to end up in.
We ride the elevator up to the second floor where I was told the immigration office is located in my appointment confirmation email.
The elevator doors open directly into the lobby. Walking into the large space, there’s an L-shaped layout of navy-blue padded chairs and a coffee table with old magazines stacked for reading.
A reception desk sits with glass plating between the lobby and reception and a wooden door stands near the window. I’m guessing it leads to a hallway full of offices.
“I’ll check us in.”
Juliet nods and walks over to one of the chairs, taking a seat and checking her phone. Probably another text from Autumn.
An older woman sits on the other side of the glass partition. She doesn’t look up at me but she must see me coming in her peripheral vision because she hits the intercom.
“Name,” she says, smacking a piece of gum between her teeth.
When I get closer, I see she’s reading a detective thriller and hasn’t taken her eyes off it once.
“Ryker Haynes. I have an appointment with Frank Bishop.”
She hits the intercom button that must go to Frank’s office.
“Your appointment is here,” she says, and then lets off the button before a response comes from the other side. “He’ll be out shortly,” she says, still reading her book with no eye contact at all.
“Great… thanks.”
I think.
I head back to sit down in the lobby with Juliet but before I even reach the chair, I hear the wooden door open and my name being called.
“Mr. Haynes! What a pleasure to be meeting the legend in the flesh,” a booming voice says behind me.
I spin around to find a slightly overweight, balding man in a suit and glasses. He has a coffee stain on his white undershirt, which is mostly covered under his blazer and tie.
From here, I can’t tell if the stain is from today or if he forgot to get this particular shirt dry-cleaned and walked out the door in it this morning.
Based on his gambling predicament, I have to wonder when the last time he bought new work attire was instead of betting his money on a sports game.
“You must be Frank. Thanks for meeting us.“ I feel Juliet walk up beside me. “This is my fiancée, Juliet.”
“Nice to meet you both. I’m glad the scheduling worked out. If you two will follow me, we’ll make our way to my office,” Frank says.
We follow him down the hallway. The nerves of whether we’re going to pull this off, prick at the base of my skull.
I know that Frank is the one helping push this through for his own gain, but he assumed I proposed to the woman I had been dating for a number of months. Not a woman I only met days ago.
A few doors down, Frank offers up his hand for us to enter first.
The small office is as bland as I’d expect an immigration officer's office to be. Beige walls, a small desk, and a black pleather rolling office chair that looks as though it should have retired years ago. On the other side of the desk are two navy blue paddled chairs, that match the ones in the lobby—one for both of us. I offer my hand to usher Juliet in front of me, letting her enter first. She does and takes the seat in the farthest one, leaving the outer chair open for me.
