“Marriage is not an option,” he says through his teeth so sharply that the lawyers fall back in their chairs.
His tone is so cutting that I turn my face away reflexively like he just slapped me. Not because I was expecting him to marry me, but because of the way he said the words. With a bitter edge of anger, almost revulsion. So public too. He would never react like this if he saw even a glimmer of potential for us.
I wrap my fingers around my dad’s watch, trying to find my lungs or any part of my body that I recognize. I’m in too deep. Even though I knew this would eventually end, I allowed myself to feel this way. To fall this hard, this quickly. Foolish Elisa. I want to run as far away from here as possible. I should have listened to Javier. I should have listened to that little voice in my head.
Bob recovers first. “Well, in that case, Elisa, do you have any other marriage options?”
I want to look down but this is too fundamental to face with downcast eyes. I look Bob in the eye. “No, Bob. And I didn’t come to this meeting to wheedle a marriage proposal.”
My statement is meant for one man in particular and he knows it. As he must know that he just ended any chance we had together with his humiliating reaction. I don’t look his way.
Bob smiles kindly. “I think that’s very clear, dear. I don’t think a woman like you would be in want of a husband if that was her goal. And, in any event, I should tell you that marriage likely wouldn’t work here if you’re entering a brand-new relationship.” His eyes flit to Aiden and back to me. “You see, the CIS examines marriages to non-U.S. citizens very closely for fraud. If you only found someone now and were married in the next few days, your green card would almost certainly get denied. You need to prove some history before you can convince the government.”
I nod, ignoring a ramrod-straight Aiden next to me. Bob gives me a grandpa smile and turns to Aiden, looking a bit frosty.
“You wanted to hear the other permanent options, Mr. Hale, so here they are. She can try to get Congress to approve her to stay but that’s happened only a few times in the history of this country, it takes a long time and frankly, she has a better chance of winning the Powerball.
“The other option is that she does indeed win the Powerball or, said less dramatically, that she comes across one million dollars and invests it in an American business. She can effectively attempt to buy her green card that way.” Bob’s voice has none of the warmth it has when he addresses me.
To my surprise, Aiden relaxes and leans back in his chair. He must have heard something he likes because he is not biting the man’s head off for daring to address him in such a manner.
“Well, that’s settled then. I’ll just give her the money.” He sounds like he just bought a car. Or a prostitute.
Suddenly, it all makes sense. He said it himself when we were at Paradox. He is selfish. Only I was too lost in my own fantasy to accept it. He wanted to fuck the girl in the paintings. Well, he did. But then she became too real in the morning. And now, to ease any guilt he feels for using a poor orphan, he’ll just throw some cash at her.
Well, I don’t have much but I have dignity. I stand up. Everyone looks at me in surprise, but they stand with me.
“Gentlemen, I’d like to speak to Mr. Hale alone. Is there somewhere I can do that?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ghosts
“Sure, Elisa.” Bob recovers first and leads us out of the room. I follow, not bothering to see if the Wanker of the Century is behind me. If he is not, I’ll take the elevator down and go home. Bob shows us to a smaller conference room with no windows and leaves.
I walk in, keeping my back to the door. I hear it close and turn slowly, afraid that if I rush, I will rip off his head and maybe even his impressive dick. He looks wary. As he should be.
“All right, Elisa. Let’s talk about this.”
I grit my teeth together and glare at him. “Yes, let’s. Maybe you can start for once. Is a million dollars the going rate for a virgin these days?”
At first, he frowns and then all expression leaves his face as he turns to stone. “You think I’m buying you?”
“Forty thousand for a half-naked painting. God knows how much for the others. And the hymen—oh, that’s the crown jewel.” I put as much sarcasm and ice in my voice as I can.
Under my glower, his face changes to fury. Flexed jaw, flared nostrils, thin lips and narrow dark eyes.
“I’m not paying you for sex. I’m doing this to help you,” he hisses through his teeth.
“Help me? Me? Really? You gain no benefit from this at all?”