“There is a Mr. Bigalow here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment, but he’s with the government.”
I frowned. “The government?”
“Immigration.”
Ah, fuck. “Send him in.” I stood, buttoning my coat. I looked down at the platinum ring, thinking Adalyn had been right to make me get one. I turned around the picture the wedding chapel had sent us. I’d framed it using the frame that once held the picture of my mom and dad on my desk. I didn’t want to be obvious, but I did want him to see it.
A middle-aged man in a dark suit appeared. He struck me as the type of man who went through the world thinking everyone lied to him. I braced myself for the acting job of a lifetime.
“Mr. Bigalow,” I said thrusting out my hand. “Can I get you coffee or something?”
“No. Thank you.”
I motioned for him to sit in one of the guest chairs. I leaned against my desk, wanting to use my height to look down on him. It was a power play, but one I was willing to engage in. “I think all our paperwork is intact for our foreign workers,” I said.
“I’m here about Adalyn Beaumont.”
I forced myself to smile. “Sloane.”
He stared at me. “As I’ve heard.”
“God, I hope her paperwork is okay. I really don’t want to move to Canada. It’s cold up there in the winter.”
“As you know, we’ve had some concerns about renewing her visa.”
“No, I didn’t know.” That wasn’t completely true, but I hadn’t heard it from immigration. “I don’t recall anything from your office about it.”
“So, this sudden marriage isn’t an attempt to fix that?”
It wasn’t hard to bring on the anger. “Are you accusing me of a crime, Mr. Bigalow?”
His eyes flared slightly at my response. I supposed he thought I’d be saccharine sweet to get on his good side. That’s not how I did business.
“It’s just a bit coincidental that right after I mention to her that her visa might not get renewed that she ends up in Las Vegas married to you.”
“She didn’t tell you she was engaged?” I asked.
“No. She failed to mention that.”
I shrugged. “She probably thought you wouldn’t believe her. The truth is, I’ve been in love with her for three years. She was the one that got away. This time, I wasn’t going to let that happen.” I stopped talking, worried I was saying too much. Being too eager.
“So, you planned a Vegas wedding?” He shook his head, clearly not buying that. “A man like you with a family like yours; surely you’d have a large wedding.”
“We planned on a fancy wedding. Women like that, don’t they. But I got tired of waiting. I flew out to Vegas and suggested we do it now.” I narrowed my eyes. “What is the problem, Mr. Bigalow? Do you have some sort of personal vendetta against my wife?” I figured I’d see if I could turn the tables a bit and make him squirm.
“The United States doesn’t take kindly to people who abuse the system or are security risks.”
“You sleep securely at night because of the work she does.”
His jaw tightened.
“I ask again, what do you have against my wife?”
“It’s not personal, Mr. Sloane.” He cleared his throat and stood. He didn’t like that I’d pushed back on him. Good. “Her green card application will come to me, and there will be a new investigation. You’ll need to be a part of that. We need to know this marriage is real.”
“Do you like peeking through keyholes to watch couples in their marital beds?”
He jerked. “You don’t need be crude, Mr. Sloane.”
I shrugged. “I just wonder how someone like you is able to judge what’s real love and what isn’t. Are you married?”
“There are established procedures and protocols.”
I laughed. “Only the government could figure out how to turn love into a bureaucracy. Whatever you need, we’ll comply with. The sooner the better. I don’t want this hanging over us as we start our lives together.”
Mr. Bigalow gave me a curt nod and left. Feeling a bit unsteady, I returned to my chair and loosened my tie.
“Is he as unpleasant as he looks?” my secretary said as she entered my office.
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
I sighed. “He thinks my marriage is fake.”
“I saw that in a movie once with Sandra Bullock and Ryan Reynolds.” She laughed. “She was from Canada too, huh? What a coincidence.”
“What happened?”
“Well it’s a rom-com, so it all turned out. But their marriage was fake. Yours isn’t. And if you need someone to testify under oath or something, I’ll do it.”
I smiled. “Thank you.” I hoped it didn’t come to that. It was bad enough I was lying. I didn’t want my staff to lie too. Although it wouldn’t be lying because she believed it. Of course, that didn’t assuage my guilt that I was deceiving her. Good Christ, what a mess.
Later that afternoon, I headed down to CTS, once again fighting traffic. My brother Mitch was onto something when he moved to the mountains. Of course, now he had a home along the river with his wife and child. Although he still had the mountain home. Maybe I could take Adalyn there some time.
I smacked myself in the head. What was I thinking? Adalyn and I were in a business arrangement. This wasn’t real.
I arrived at CTS and made my way back to the conference room that her team was meeting in. There were surprised expressions when I entered. I didn't know if it was because I was attending a meeting I didn’t usually come to, or if it was because it was now out of the bag that I was married to Adalyn.
She smiled. “You decided to come.”
“I did.” I leaned over and gave her a kiss on her cheek, letting that sweet scent of hers fill my lungs. That’s what husbands did, right?
I sat next to Calvin while the team leader went through the agenda. The project was on target for its finish in the next few months. They expected to have a government official make a visit soon for a report on the progress. Then each member gave a report on the status of their parts in the project.
“I heard your presentation went well in Vegas,” the leader said to Adalyn.
“That wasn’t the only thing that went well,” another person quipped, making the room laugh.
“I’d do more presentations if it landed me a billionaire,” a woman next to Adalyn said, adding more laughter to the miss.
Adalyn blushed. I suspected I did too when a room full of tech geek eyes turned to me.
As the meeting ended, my phone beeped with a text.
Tonight? I’ll bring wine and wear nothing under my coat.
Karen, fuck. Sorry. Can’t.
Saturday?
This would look bad if outside eyes saw it. I debated telling her I would be with my wife, but her response would probably be shock, which again would be suspicious if Mr. Bigalow saw it.
Busy. Talk later. Now I just needed to figure out how to tell Karen that I couldn’t see her anymore. It had been so long since we’d hooked up, I’d nearly forgotten. Recently, even when the urge for an orgasm struck, it was easier to deal with it alone than seek her out. The truth was, I should have ended the benefits part of our friendship long ago.
“Everything okay?” Adalyn asked.
I slipped my phone in my pocket. “Bigalow stopped by to see me.”
Her face looked stricken.
“It’s okay, I think. There will be an investigation. We need to be prepared for them to interview people at work. Family.”
“I need to tell my dad.” She frowned. “I’ve not been contacting him because of this immigration thing.”
“We’ll do it from home tonight.”
She put her hand on my arm. “Will, are we doing the right thing?”
“Whether we are or aren’t, we’re committed. The good news is that my secretary said she saw this coming. She’ll even testify to it.”
“
So many more people will be involved.” Her expression mirrored my guilt at duping and involving people we cared about.
“It gets worse.”
“Worse?”
I pulled her into a corner so people couldn’t overhear. “We’ll probably be interviewed separately. There’s something called the Stokes Interview they use to ferret out marriage fraud.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not sure I convinced Bigalow. According to my research, when immigration suspects marriage fraud, they conduct this Stokes interview. We’ll be interviewed separately. It will be thorough and probably go into intimate details.”
“How intimate?”
I gave her a look that said really intimate.
“Like I’ll be asked about your tattoos?”
I nodded. “Maybe.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Maybe we should break up. The project can get by without me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t trust that Bigalow guy. At this point, we have nowhere to go but forward.”
I saw a person walking up the hall in our direction. I put my hand on Adalyn’s waist and pulled her closer so it looked like we were stealing a moment away together. We were newlyweds, after all.
She pressed her hands over my chest and looked up at me with her beautiful dark eyes. “I hate that I could be putting you in jeopardy.”
“You won’t if we get this right. All we need to do come up with a plan. We have our evenings to get to know each other as intimately … er … closely as married people.”
She bit her lower lip, and I really wanted to bend down to kiss her. Then I realized I could, because I was her fake husband and I had to convince others we were real.
I leaned forward, sliding my lips along hers. I trailed them along her cheek to her ear. “We’ll figure this out.”
She shivered, and I wondered if that was from my closeness or fear. I wished it was the former, but most likely it was the latter. Perhaps I should listen to her. Maybe if we gave up this crazy plan, we wouldn’t be at risk to go to jail. But then she’d likely be deported and my heart clenched painfully at that idea. One thing I’d told Mr. Bigalow was true. She’d been the one to get away three years ago. I realized that I didn’t want her to get away again.
The Other Woman
Adalyn — Friday
My head was spinning. Will’s kiss was short, but incredibly potent and heady. I wanted more. But my brain was telling me that this kiss was for show. This wasn’t a real marriage. He’d been clear that while we needed to give the public a good show, in reality we were partners in the ultimate deception.
I pulled away from him, needing to distance myself from him and the yearning he made me feel.
“I need to get back to work,” I said to him.
His gaze was intense as he looked at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m just overwhelmed by the magnitude of what we’re doing, and worried.”
He brushed his knuckles along my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring and yet cursing the way his touch sent lovely tingles through my body.
“It’ll be fine. I promise.”
I knew that wasn’t a promise he could make, but I nodded. “I’ll see you at home.”
He started to turn away.
“Oh, and I’ll cook,” I said.
“I feel like I should be offended.”
“No. I just want to earn my keep,” I said, hoping he’d buy it.
I went back to my desk and tried to focus on work, but found myself distracted.
“You’re some actress,” Stu said putting his hip on the edge of my desk.
“Huh?” Did he know Will and I were faking our marriage?
“We had no idea you and Sloane were an item.”
Relief flooded my body. “Well, he’s hardly here, so it wasn’t that difficult.”
“Poor Kip is beside himself. But at least he knows why you weren’t into him.”
I shrugged.
“Why the big secret?” he asked.
“At first, it was nobody’s business. Later, we were concerned because he’s sort of my boss.”
“Ah, forbidden love. Of course, married life will take away all the shimmer of that. Cooking. Cleaning. Bills. Babies. Chores. Daily life isn’t quite as romantic.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Will looks pretty sexy grilling.”
He made a face. “You didn’t eat it, did you?”
I laughed. “Of course, I did.”
“You must be in love.”
I winced, not liking that I was being deceptive. But who was I deceiving? Yes, Will’s grilling was bad. But yes, I ate it and didn’t diss it because I cared for him. Was it love? I couldn’t be sure. I knew I was attracted to him. I knew I enjoyed talking to him. Our time in Vegas was the most fun I’d had in a long time. Maybe ever. But ws that love?
“What happens if your visa doesn’t come through?” Stu asked.
“I’m applying for a green card,” I said.
One brow lifted. “Is that why you got married?”
“No. We were already engaged,” I said remembering the cover story we’d come up with.
He laughed. “Sloane is a boy scout. They must breed them at the F.B.I. He’d never break the law.”
I hoped my smile didn’t show any signs of contradicting that statement. “Then why would you ask?”
He shrugged. “Because it’s a cliché to get married as a way to bypass normal immigration. So is a quickie wedding in Vegas.”
“That’s me … a walking cliché. The Vegas wedding, not the immigration,” I clarified.
“Hey Stu, come take a look at this,” Kip called from the other side of the room.
Stu straightened. “Congrats on the marriage, Addy. I hope it all works out.”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Most don’t.” He walked off and I wondered why he would say such a thing. Did he know something about Will that I didn’t?
Shaking it off, I went back to work and this time I was able to focus. At a little after five, I shut down my computer and headed out. I wasn’t sure what Will had at his place in terms of dinner items, so I stopped at a grocery store to pick up something to cook. I wondered what he liked, aside from burnt grilled meat. Pasta was always a safe bet. I bought some noodles, basil, olive oil, fresh parmesan, and salad makings.
The traffic was horrendous, even though I was heading north toward Arlington, away from people heading home from Washington, D.C. Traffic was always bad in both directions, I knew. The only time I’d ever cruised through northern Virginia was a driving trip I took to New York that I left for at three in the morning.
I got to Will’s building and rode the elevator up to his floor. I realized I didn’t have a key, so I knocked on the door.
When it opened, a beautiful blonde woman in a sharp charcoal wool suit opened the door. Her white blouse was unbuttoned enough to show off the lace of her bra. She was holding a glass of white wine.
“Hello?”
“Ah … I’m Adalyn.”
The woman just looked at me. Her gaze narrowed in on my grocery bags. “Are you Will’s cook? God knows he needs one.”
In Vegas, when I saw a pretty woman talk to Will, I’d wanted to scratch her eyes out. This woman, I wanted strangle with her own hair extensions.
Maybe this isn’t what it seems, I said to myself. And even if it was, I wasn’t in any position to complain. Actually, I was. If immigration got wind of Will’s plaything, that could blow our scheme and we’d end up in jail.
“I’m making pasta,” I said, deciding to play along to see how Will behaved. As I walked in, I didn’t see him. Was he home? He had to be, otherwise how to did Blondie get in?
“I love pasta. I’m Karen, by the way.”
I headed straight to the kitchen. “Where’s Will?”
“In the shower.”
Oh God. Had they already had sex? It took all my will to keep from smacking her. Or throwing
my bottle of olive oil at her. Instead, I took out all the dinner items from their bags and organized them on the counter to start preparing the meal.
A door closed down the hall.
“Oh, that must be him.” Karen left the kitchen. I followed her to the edge of the kitchen to watch.
Will emerged from the hallway looking spectacular in faded jeans and a black t-shirt that pulled deliciously tight across his broad chest.
He stopped short when he saw her. “Karen.” Then his eyes flitted to me and widened. Was that shock or guilt I saw?
“I know you said you were busy, but I just had to come by. I’ve been so tense lately and only you know how to help me with that,” Karen cooed as she approached him.
I closed my eyes as images of Will and Karen rolling around his bed filled my brain. A bed I’d never been in. I was his wife and hadn’t been in his bed, and this woman had.
He cleared his throat, side stepping Karen’s outreached arms. “Karen, let me introduce you to Adalyn.”
“I’ve already met her. I have to say, I’m glad you got a cook. You’re not very good at it. It seems all your talents lie elsewhere.” She drew a long, manicured finger down the line between his impressive pecs.
“Adalyn is my wife.”
It took her second, but then her head jerked back as she looked up at him. “What?”
“She’s my wife.” He stepped away from her and started towards me. I wanted to smack him too, but then I remembered Mr. Bigalow. I couldn’t know if he’d interview Karen, but on the off chance he did, I put on a smile as he draped his arm around me.
“I … ah … it hasn’t been that long, has it? I didn’t know you were dating,” Karen said, looking genuinely perplexed.
“We kept it a secret because of our work situation.” Then, as if he knew what I might be thinking, he looked at me. “Karen and I have never been together since you and I got together.”
Got together. Like a hookup. I supposed in reality, that was what we’d had. “Good to know,” I quipped. I looked at Karen. “I’m making dinner. Will you be staying?”
Will coughed and Karen looked chagrined. “No. I’ll be going.” She set her wine glass down and picked up her tailored suit jacket. “You should have told me, Will.”
Accidentally My Hero Page 10