Page 12

I’ve never been married before, hell, I've barely had a relationship, unless you count casually dating in college and a boyfriend in high school for two months. I dated one other guy shortly after college but he broke up with me when he found out I had been faking my orgasms. I didn’t think that would be the appropriate time to tell him I was positive most of the women he had been with had been doing the same.

But if Miles is ready to meet me, only twenty-four hours later, it must not be that difficult to have taken care of. Now if he could only fix my other issue too, then I might be willing to agree to his self-proclaimed title ofBest Lawyer in the City.

Miles

Walking up to the pier,I’m momentarily distracted from my game plan by that untamed head of hair blowing in the wind. Distracted enough that I almost get run over by a hot dog truck. “Hey, man!” The driver throws his arm out.

My nostrils flare, but now isn’t the time to pick a fight with the hot dog guy. My molars grind together as I storm across the walkway, making my way over to the pier where Camila is sitting on a bench. I don't know why seeing her knocks me so off balance but I need to regroup. I repeat the plan over again in my head.Convince Camila it would be for her benefit to play the part of a happily married couple.

This is no different than what I do every single day. Day in and day out, I get people to do what I need, and if I have to bluff, dupe, or blur some lines in the process to get it done, then that’s what I’ll do.

There’s a deep wrinkle between her eyebrows. She's had time to let the full weight of what happened sink in now. The shock has no doubt worn off and I’m sure she's in full-on panic mode now. Unfortunately for me, that’s only going to make my task more difficult. I straighten my tie with one hand and comb my fingers through my hair with the other. Schooling my facial features to remain calm, I close the distance between us.

“Camila.”

Her head snaps up to me. And even though she’s squinting from the sun and the breeze, I’m still taken aback when I look into her dark, coffee-colored eyes again. She looks casual in her leggings and an oversized, distressed, navy hoodie and my first thought is that she still somehow looks just as beautiful as she did two nights ago, dressed to the nines in a packed club. My second thought is, I hope that’s not another man's sweater.

Where did that come from?

“Hi.” She offers me a smile and raises her eyebrows at me. Only now do I realize I’ve just been standing here staring at her like an idiot.

I take the seat next to her on the bench and she follows my every movement with her eyes. “So,” I pause,clock in, game time.“I wanted to meet you here because I had my assistant look into our situation and he said it's really not a big deal, however, it looks like legally we’ll be married for the next sixty days or so, and then we can be granted an annulment and it will be like none of this ever happened.” I remain stoic, my voice void of any emotion. I’m waiting for her to freak out, cry, or scream. To tell me that we need to find another way. But she surprises me by nodding her head and looking back out across the water.

“Okay. I guess that makes sense.” Her voice is distant. Tired. “I don’t know anything about marriage licenses’ and annulments but you're the lawyer, so I trust you.”

“You do?”

“Should I not?” Her head snaps back to face me.

“No, I mean, yes, you absolutely should. It’s just rare for me to meet someone who gives their trust so easily.”

A tight line forms from her lips and she offers nothing else but a shrug of her shoulders. What is happening? Who is this girl and why is she not freaking out? Holy shit. I might actually pull this off. Camila’s hands are tucked inside her sleeves, which she’s twisting into tight knots. The breeze has started to pick up, maybe she’s just cold. I expect to see relief wash over her, especially after accepting this lie so well. But that deep crease is still there. This is it, this is my opportunity now.

“I know it's not ideal but it will be okay and it will be taken care of. In the meantime, I was...” I pause as she shakes her head, pulling her lips in between her teeth. Tiny beads of liquid form in the corners of her eyes. “Hey,” I’m slightly thrown off by an unusual twisting in my chest. It’s the same feeling that happened the other day when she took off running to the bathroom. I have no idea what I’m doing, or why I’m doing it, but I find myself lifting my hand and rubbing small circles across her back. I don’t know what’s more alarming, the fact that I can now identify this feeling as a need to comfort her or that I’m doing it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“No. It’s not you. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be crying in front of you like this.” She sniffs, waving a hand in front of her.

“It’s alright, youaremy wife,” I joke trying to make light of the situation because even though I watch people cry almost daily at my job, I’ve never felt a need to comfort any of them.

She tilts her head and gives me a look likeyou, asshole.

“When I told you I was celebrating quitting my job, I lied. I was actually tryingveryhard to forget about that fact for a night. Hencethe mass amounts of alcohol.” She tilts her head and her hands fall between her knees.

I give her some time and wait for her to continue.

“My parents…They have very high expectations for me.” She hesitates, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Anyway right now, I’m slowly running out of options. If I don't figure out my next move soon, I’m going to have to go home with my tail between my legs, and to be honest, that thought makes me feel as sick as waking up next to a stranger and finding out I’m married.”

I appreciate her attempt at a joke but as I sit staring at this beautiful woman, listening to her cry makes me wonder if I shouldn’t just call Talan and have him bring the papers down here right now. The last thing she needs is me conning her into being my fake wife formybenefit. I can feel the scowl on my face as I look out across the water. I have to remember everything I’ve worked for these last few years. Everything I’ve done to get to where I am andwhyI’ve done it. Those thoughts are all it takes, and I hear myself saying, “We could help each other out…” Her fidgeting body stills next to mine. “We could pretend to be married,” I clarify.

“We are married.” She huffs a small laugh and bumps her knee into mine. The movement is so casual but for whatever reason I’m hypersensitive to every touch from her. I look at her finally and say, “I mean, you could move in with me. You know, while you figure out your next move. You wouldn't have to tell your parents you quit your job.”

I swear my heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my goddamn chest as those eyes fight against the wind to stare at me in utter disbelief. After a moment, Camila throws her head back and barks out a laugh. She grabs my arm with one hand where the warmth of her fingers burns through my suit, and wipes away the tears now streaming down her face with the other.

Too distracted by her hand on my arm, I just wait for her to calm down. When she finally looks back at me she sobers instantly. “Oh my god. You're serious?”

I nod, take a deep breath, and hold it in. I don’t know if I’m more annoyed that she’s laughing at me or because I can’t bring myself to be mad at her for it.

“Well I’m not sure telling my parents I got drunk and married a man I just met is going to go over any better than telling them I’m a failure.” Her fingers tangle with her necklace before pinching the gold pendant that hangs there and she begins zipping it side to side. “Although in the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez, sadly, I think they might prefer the first option.” She brushes the stray hairs that are wrapping around her face now. “This is too much for someone with my kind of anxiety,” she murmurs to herself before looking back at me. “That doesn't explain what you would get out of this situation though?”