“All my favorites. You’ve gone all out.”
“You know me. I don’t do anything half-assed.”
I sat on the floor next to him, waiting for him to talk but almost afraid to ask him anything more. Maybe it had been a spur of the moment impulse and now he’d thought better of it. I hoped. He couldn’t be serious.
My hopes plummeted when he cleared his throat. “I went through your email. I also talked to Robert this morning.”
Robert was a lawyer and a mutual friend. He specialized in immigration law, which made him an excellent choice.
“He said that the options you laid out are pretty much everything.”
Crap. I’d hoped that in my sleepy haze I’d overlooked something major that could help Hunter out of his pinch.
“His only other suggestion was marriage.”
I stopped in the act of cutting my sandwich and opened my mouth to protest. Hunter placed his hand on my right thigh. The contact singed me, warmth spreading from the point of contact, electrifying me. I sucked in a breath.
“Hear me out first, Josie. You’re the only person I trust. It’s a huge risk, and if I had a viable alternative, I wouldn’t ever ask you this.”
“Hunter, this is madness.”
“I would take care of you no matter what. You know that, right?”
Crap. I knew, and therein lay the problem. Hunter had looked after me when no one else had. My family was great, and there was nothing they wouldn’t do for me, but they all lived in Montana. Leaving home at fifteen had been one of the hardest things I had to do, but I couldn’t turn down the scholarship—it had been my one shot at attending a great private school. When I’d come to New York, we’d spoken on the phone as often as we could afford, which wasn’t often at all.
Hunter had never asked me for one thing. Not one damned thing. And now he needed my help. I couldn’t possibly say no.
“You’re not seeing anyone, right?” he went on.
“Not seriously. No.”
I’d had a second date with a guy I’d met at the theater a few days ago, but that was all.
“So, this wouldn’t inconvenience you in that regard. It’s just a piece of paper.”
“Such a romantic proposal.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Hunter, we’d have to keep up the sham for two or three years, minimum. It can take up to a year for the immigration services to approve your green card, and it’s usually best to stay married for two years after you receive it to avoid suspicions. I researched that yesterday. It’s good that your current visa is still valid for one year.”
He pulled back his hand and nodded. “You’re right. Forget I asked. I’ll tell my lawyers to start the legalities for one of the other options first thing on Monday.”
“I didn’t say no,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to leave him in the lurch. “I’d do anything for you. This is just so.... I need some time to process everything.”
“It’s too risky. I didn’t think this through. I just jumped at the opportunity because it seems to be the one most likely to guarantee a positive outcome.”
“How involved would this have to be?” I was thinking out loud more than directing the question at him. “We’d have to live together... pretend for everyone. My family and your mom don’t live here, so that would be easier... but Amelia and the rest of the Winchester clan? Not so easy. Unless you want to tell them the truth?”
“I don’t like the idea of lying, but I don’t want to tell anyone the truth because that’s more of a risk overall. Plus, then I’d be asking them to lie for me too. Everyone would get in trouble if the immigration services got wind of it.”
“No one would believe us, you know. That we’d marry.”
“That we’re suddenly in love? Why not? Would it be so unbelievable that I’ve fallen for you after so many years of friendship? That you’re the one?”
He shifted closer, smiling down at me. God, why did his smile have to be so dazzling?
I cleared my throat, shifting a little, seeking a bit of distance.
“You’re good, I’ll give you that. I suppose given our long friendship, a spur-of-the-moment marriage with me is more believable than with anyone else.”
With a pang of disappointment, I realized this was probably why he’d asked me in the first place. Not because deep down somewhere, he was attracted to me.
I mentally slapped myself. I didn’t want him to be attracted to me. The reason our friendship had survived all these years was because it had been strictly platonic. Hunter wasn’t the type to settle, and I wasn’t the type to be friends with benefits with anyone. I’d resisted all that sex appeal he had going on until now.
If I lived with him for three years? I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to pretend he wasn’t drop-dead sexy. I mean... just looking at all this deliciousness that was Hunter Caldwell, I realized my chances of ignoring it were zero. And what if that torch lit up again? This would be a heartbreak for me waiting to happen.
“Josie,” he said softly, cupping my cheek. My skin heated up. Was he touching me more than usual today, or was I just more sensitive?
“Forget about it. You’re already stressed out. I don’t—”
“No, no. I’ll think about it, okay? I’ll think about it and let you know.”
“You’re sure?” The anxious look on his face slayed me. I wanted to say yes right then and there, but I didn’t.
I just nodded.
“If you say no, I will completely understand. Okay?”
I nodded again.
He drew his thumb in small circles over my cheek, resting it dangerously close to one corner of my mouth. A shiver skittered along my spine. Every nerve ending was on edge. Holy shit.
I was more sensitive, no doubt about that. I averted my gaze quickly, afraid I’d give myself away. Besides, those blue eyes were my kryptonite.
I only took a deep, relaxing breath after he left.
I wandered around the apartment, unsure what to do with myself. At last, I pulled out my iPad to make one of my trusty pro/con lists. I could assess a situation better once I saw all aspects in writing.
Half an hour later, I gave up. I still hadn’t typed one word down in any column. There was just one big pro: Hunter would get his green card. The list of cons was a mile long.
Aside from the legal risks, I had to lie to my family. I was also essentially putting my personal life on hold for three years, and after that, I’d be Hunter Caldwell’s ex-wife. He was famous in New York. He came from old English money, but his father went bankrupt when Hunter was in high school.
People had sneered at the name Caldwell back then. Some still did, especially because Hunter had gone into the real estate business, just like his father. I respected him, because it hadn’t been an easy path. Investors had been reluctant to back him, associating his name with his dad’s financial fiasco.
Hunter was my best friend, but in many ways, he was still a mystery to me. He rarely spoke about his dad. When I’d met him at school, he’d been a loner, despite having his aunt and cousins nearby.
A lot of people knew him: he was rich and had succeeded despite his dad’s legacy. He also ran charity events with his cousins. To be honest, I think many in the city knew him more because of those events than his business. They were called the Ballroom Galas, because they took place in an actual ballroom, and the dress code was very fancy. There were no two ways about it, he was famous in New York. What would it be like to be his wife?