Ash’s voice made me jump.
“What do you think, Laylay? Pretty good money, eh? You’ve got to come to the premiere. I’ll buy you a new dress, something upmarket, uh, upscale, you know? Michigan Avenue.”
Ash was panting slightly, having run up four flights of stairs from the basement, but still grinning from ear to ear.
I gave him a weak smile.
He picked up on my mood immediately.
“What’s wrong? You look sick,” he said bluntly.
“Look . . . just sit down for a moment. I’ve got something to tell you.”
“You’re pregnant.”
“No! Just . . . no!”
“You want me to leave?”
“No! Ugh! Will you listen for a moment!”
We stared at each other, Ash’s lips tightening with annoyance.
“I’m not pregnant, God no! And I’m not asking you to leave.” I took a deep breath. “There’s a problem with your contract.”
His shoulders dropped a fraction, but his eyebrows drew together in a worried frown.
“What problem?”
I sighed. “You don’t have a visa.”
He shrugged, unimpressed. “I’ll get one. I got one before.”
“It’s not that easy. Technically, without your passport you’re a non-person. And even when that’s sorted out, which could still take weeks, there’s no guarantee that you’ll get the new visa. They’ll see you as an over-stayer.”
“An over—what?”
“An illegal immigrant.”
“But . . .”
“I’m sorry.”
“Weeks? You think it could take weeks?”
No, I think it’ll be never.
Ash stood up and started pacing the floor. Then he strode to the balcony, flinging open the doors and letting in a freezing blast of icy air.
His fingers gripped the metal, and he leaned over the balcony, dangerously far.
“Ash!”
At my panicked shriek, he looked over his shoulder toward me, his eyes bleak. With a shake of his head, he walked back inside and closed the doors behind him, leaving the room chilled. Then he slumped onto the couch and his head thudded against the wall.
“It’s over, isn’t it? The Bratva have won. I’ll have to go home with my tail curled.”
“You’ll . . . what?”
He waved his hand impatiently. “Like a dog. With my tail between my legs. What else can I do?”
“You could marry me.”
I mumbled the words so quietly, I wasn’t sure if I’d meant for him to hear them.
But he did.
His expression froze in shock.
“Forget it. It’s a stupid idea.”
I stood up and walked into the kitchen to hide my embarrassment.
Ash followed, leaning against the wall as I rummaged in the fridge for juice. Pineapple. Why did he always buy pineapple?
The silence was painful. I could hear blood pounding in my ears, a loud roar of humiliation.
“You’d marry me?”
His words were as quiet as mine, but I heard him with perfect clarity.
Would I?
I closed the fridge door and turned to him. His beautiful face held no expression, and his voice was flat.
“Then you could get your green card.”
“What about Collin?”
“After two years, we’d get divorced.”
His face shifted marginally and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“A pretend marriage?”
“Well . . . yes.” Had he thought I meant something else?
“You’d do that? For me?”
I shrugged, uncomfortable under his burning gaze.
“We’re friends. I want to help you. But, uh, we probably shouldn’t tell anyone.”
His forehead wrinkled in a deep frown.
“You’re ashamed of me?”
“Ash, no! Of course not. It’s just, well, marrying to get a green card is illegal.”
He sighed and closed his eyes.
“I don’t want you to get into trouble, Laney.”
“I won’t. Just as long as we keep quiet.”
Ash
I couldn’t sleep. No matter how many times I shifted on the uncomfortable couch, or tried to empty my mind. I kept thinking about Laney.
When she’d first suggested marriage, I think I stopped breathing. I’d never met a woman who’d even made me want to consider it. The only commitment I’d ever needed was to my art, to dance.
But marrying Laney . . . I wasn’t hating the idea. I couldn’t believe she’d do this for me, basically putting her life on hold—again—so I had my shot.
The woman was so selfless. But . . .
I couldn’t do it to her. It was illegal, she said, but it would also fuck up her relationship with the prick. Not that I gave a shit about him, but I didn’t want Laney to get hurt. She didn’t deserve that.
I’d said we should both sleep on her idea, because saying anything else seemed impossible.
I soon got bored of thrashing around alone in what passed for my bed.