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I force myself to peel my eyes from her skin and smile at her, as warmly as I possibly can.
“Look, I understand that attention is uncomfortable. But don’t worry about how you look. You look…” I pause, taking the moment to appreciate her beauty again. “Great. Beautiful, really.”
Well, shit. I didn’t mean that to come out sounding so lusty. Isa is clearly flustered and I quickly turn away, absorbing the shock of how quickly everything between Isa and me seems to be changing. Two days ago, I would never have been talking with her like this.
“Th.. Thanks, Leo.” Isa dips her head to try to hide the darkening color spreading across her cheeks.
Before I can attempt to alleviate the awkwardness, someone steps in front of us.
“Well now, what good did I ever do in my life to have one of the biggest names in Hollywood in my office?” A stern and clear voice of a woman almost booms throughout the entire waiting area. Everyone’s definitely looking at us now.
The woman towers over us and her face is no-nonsense, just like the navy uniform outfit and short bob of her hair. Isa is visibly shaken, sitting ramrod straight in her chair. Keeping calm, I stand up and offer my hand. Now is not the time to falter. Not in front of the public eye and not in front of this seemingly important woman.
“It’s nice to meet you. My name is Leo Camden,“ I introduce myself. The woman immediately accepts my handshake, and she has a surprisingly firm grip. “And this is Isa.” I gesture toward Isa as she’s practically cowering in her chair, and I can’t blame her. I’d prefer to be anywhere than right here at the moment. “My fiancée,” I add, the words still feeling weird leaving my mouth.
“Hello, ma’am,” Isa says, standing up, voice still stable though her eyes remain as wide as dinner plates from the woman’s domineering demeanor.
The woman also shakes her hand, but her facial expression remains unimpressed. “We’ll see about that,” she mutters. “My name is Dolores Langley, a marriage fraud investigator from the immigration office.”
Chapter 9
Leo
Theofficewe’reledto is freezing cold. And small. And the fluorescent lighting is way too bright.
I feel a headache already coming on from the slight buzzing it’s emitting, but I’m distracted by the soft sound of Isa’s fingers rhythmically tapping against her thighs nervously as we both sit down.
In front of us is a desk with a nameplate that states Dolores Langley, Investigator. On the desk is an array of sloppily stacked folders and papers, probably from the different cases that the investigator is working on. Adorning her walls are certifications and awards from her job, not to mention her pictures with politicians, celebrities, and military personnel.
I’ve only known Dolores Langley for about five minutes, but from the second we met, I could tell she means serious business. Isa knows it as well, and it’s exactly why I can tell she’s freaking out internally right now. Dolores left us here a couple of minutes ago, and we’re both anxiously waiting for her return.
“I’m nervous,” Isa squeaks.
I let out a breath, my way to tell her that I’m pretty uncomfortable as well, though I'll never say it out loud. Especially not in this office.
“You just need to trust me, and we’ll get through this,” I reply, whispering to her. “We have nothing to worry about.” There’s no telling if Dolores is beyond that door or not, so I cannot risk her overhearing something that would immediately ruin our plans.
Isa looks at me, her light brown eyes shimmering with worry. I stare directly back, not breaking eye contact to show her that I’m resolute about this, and that she can trust me.
“Okay,” she finally whispers back.
For a split second, her posture relaxes, but she jolts up in shock as the office door suddenly opens with Dolores walking in as if there’s a trail of fire behind her steps.
“Hello,lovebirds,” she greets sarcastically, and I force myself not to flinch. “So, tell me what you’re doing in this fine government office today,” she asks, and I almost raise my eyebrow in slight frustration. I’m not really one for people who ask ridiculous, rhetorical questions. It’s how I’ve gotten this far into my career, after all. I tell people exactly what I want and expect a direct response back. Isa knows that, and I can spot her eyeing me to see my reaction to the investigator’s question.
I clear my throat as I gently fix my tie.
“I would like to know why we’re in this office and why we’re being questioned,” I demand, my tone strong and firm. “I don’t believe there’s anything that’s barring us from applying for a marriage license.”
“A marriage license,” Dolores interrupts, a twisted smile on her face. She runs a hand through her short brown hair as she leans forward. “Congratulations to the soon-to-be newlyweds!” She claps sarcastically as she leans back into her squeaking office chair. “Might I ask you, Mr. Camden, are you aware of your fiancée’s current status?”
Suddenly, the investigator’s voice turns cold and distant, sending a strong chill up my spine. It’s daunting, to say the least. I can now see how she earned the accolades on her wall. Dolores clearly doesn’t miss anything.
“M-My… status?” Isa asks for clarification, still shaken up by Dolores.
“Why, yes, darling. You look like a sweet girl, but your visa extension has been denied. I was just on the phone with your immigration lawyer, Harold Mateo,” Dolores quickly corners Isa, and it’s a remarkable move. This investigator is clearly aware that Isa’s intimidated, and she isn’t afraid of using that to her advantage. “And my, would you look at that? A green card would easily solve your problems! And what gets you a green card?”
Dolores’s question is rhetorical. As I open my mouth to retort, however, Isa’s voice fills the room instead.
