CHAPTER FOURTEEN
D mitri
Things are not fine.
Things are not fine when I step into the conference room and take my seat, and things are definitely not fine when Vince starts speaking.
“Let’s be clear,” Vince says. “You too definitely got married?”
Oskar and I nod.
I take my marriage certificate out of my gym bag because I knew he would want to see it. I slide the blue-and-white certificate over the table.
Vince snatches it up, scanning the ornate text. “Fuck.”
I blink. I might be new to the US and its culture, but I’m pretty sure it’s not common practice for lawyers charging several hundred dollars an hour to swear at their clients.
“Is there a problem?” Oskar’s voice quavers.
“You said this would be easier if I had a significant other to marry,” I point out to Vince.
“I meant a girlfriend.”
Oskar stiffens beside me. I press my knee against his until the tension eases from his shoulders.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Heat rises in my chest. “Gay marriage is legal!”
“But gay marriage is for gay people,” Vince says. “Which you’re not.”
“Are you bisexual?” Daniela asks.
I blink. No one has asked me that before. I’ve never considered it. “I’m not...”
Vince’s face pales. “Don’t answer that question.”
“But—”
“We need plausible deniability.” Vince’s knuckles whiten around his pen. “I’m pretty sure we all know what you were going to say, so just... be silent.”
“What’s wrong?” Oskar asks.
“Everything.” Vince drags a hand down his face. “You made a fraudulent marriage. The US government doesn’t take kindly to being lied to. Immigration fraud is a federal offense.”
“And,” Coach adds, his voice tight, “you involved the Blizzards.”
“People will think it highly convenient that you married the coach’s son,” Vince continues. “They’ll think the Blizzards arranged this.”
“Oskar is my best friend.”
“You couldn’t have married a woman unrelated to the team?” Vince asks. “You seem to know many of them. You’re in the papers with them all the time.”
“I haven’t dated anyone for months.”
Oskar’s head snaps up, surprise flickering across his face.
“I don’t think this is any of your business,” I continue.
“You made it your business when you married someone from this organization,” Coach says.
“And my business since I’ve been giving you legal advice,” Vince says, his voice miserable. “You cannot conduct fraud against the US government.”
“This will be a huge scandal when it breaks,” Daniela says. “You’re not only breaking federal law, you’re making a mockery of same-sex marriage.”
I frown. “That’s not right. I would never do that. My best friends are gay.”
“But you’re not,” Daniela says.
I’m silent.
“So the problem is people won’t believe we married for love,” Oskar says, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands.
“Exactly.” Vince’s shoulders slump.
Coach glowers at me. “You shouldn’t have involved my son.”
I pale.
Shit.
“As if toying with his feelings is not sufficiently terrible.” Coach sighs.
I blink. Toying with Oskar’s feelings?
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“That’s, um...” Oskar coughs, then gulps down some water. He coughs again. “Um.”
I pat Oskar’s back. Normally, Oskar is more articulate.
Finally, Coach stands. “This is outrageous.”
“You’ve made this situation far worse,” Vince says.
“And now the team could be liable,” Daniela adds.
“I just want to stay in the US.” My voice comes out smaller than I intend.
“You’ll be lucky if you can visit as a tourist in the future.”
My eyes widen. My organs crumple together, sending waves of blood rushing through my body in odd directions.
I am discombobulated. I am not myself.
Oh, God.
It’s all ending.
I’m going to have to go back.
Oskar flicks a worried gaze at me, then squares his shoulders. “We can still control the narrative.”
“But—”
“Newspapers haven’t reported the wedding yet,” he says, and something in his tone makes me look up.
Coach exhales heavily. “You’re right.”
“Or maybe they’re waiting outside the arena right now,” Daniela says, her fingers flying over her phone screen.
“Maybe,” Oskar says, and I’m not sure how any of this is supposed to make me feel better.
My heart skitters.
“There are loads of pictures of Oskar at games,” Daniela says slowly. “And with Dmitri.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Coach asks. “This is a major problem!”
“This is salvageable. What if,” Daniela leans forward, “we say they married for love?”
Vince shakes his head. “No one will believe that.”
Oskar’s face drains of color.
“Have you seen the women that Dmitri has been with? And they married before dating? Too suspicious.”
Oskar’s hands tremble, and I hate it.
I clasp my hand over his. “Please do not insult my new husband in this manner,” I say, the word ‘husband’ strange on my tongue. “Of course, I married him because I wanted to marry him.”
“For a green card,” Vince mutters.
“Because the thought of not being with him was deeply upsetting. It, um, made me realize my feelings.” I fumble for words. Usually when a woman starts talking about feelings and the future, it’s my cue to leave. In fact, it’s a sign that I stayed with her way too long and that I was not sufficiently discerning when I chose her. I like party girls, not future and forever girls.
So yeah, this conversation is totally not my thing. If I don’t like talking about feelings with people when there is no audience, I really don’t like talking about feelings when I do have an audience, especially when saying the wrong thing can lead me to never being able to stay in the US again.
“This is ridiculous,” Vince huffs.
“Painful,” Coach adds.
I frown and turn to Daniela. Maybe I can convince her. Maybe she can convince them. Maybe.
I tighten my grip on Oskar’s hand, trying to ignore his sharp intake of breath, the way his eyes go wide. It’s just my hand. No big deal.
For a horrible moment, I think that maybe he’ll scramble from my grip. Maybe he’ll slide his chair away from me, because maybe the ten inches separating us is too narrow for the distance he craves. Maybe his face will whiten, and when he’ll speak it will be in short, terse tones that don’t sound like him, like he’s eager for me to leave his space as soon as possible and only social propriety is keeping him from flinging his glass of lemon-and-cucumber-infused water at me.
God, Coach is right. Vince is right.
I’ve caused a scandal, and I’ve dragged him right into it. Will his face be on newspaper articles under the words “visa fraud”?
Unless I can do something.
“I’m in love with Oskar, and, um...” I squeeze his hand.
He turns to me, drawing back slightly.
Maybe he’s thinking about future newspaper articles. Maybe he’s thinking about how every time people google his name in the future, they’ll see it attached to scandal.
Coach was gentle with that punch. I deserved worse.
I look into his eyes, and maybe he sees something, because he puffs out a sigh.
“That’s, um, right,” he says in his tenor voice, his gaze fixed on the notepad in front of me. “I fell in love.”
Coach gives a frustrated sigh. Oskar’s cheeks pinken.
“When Dmitri asked me to marry him, of course, I said yes,” he continues. “There could never be another answer. Dmitri is a wonderful person.”
“Well, plenty of people are wonderful and you don’t marry them,” Vince says. “This isn’t...”
I turn to him. “Are you sure? You don’t want me to give interviews and tell people about how I fell in love with Oskar?”
“The Blizzards does not need more publicity on this—” Coach says.
“Wait.” Vince frowns. “He’s right. It’s our best option.”
“Really?” Coach stares at Vince.
He gives an awkward shrug. “Yeah. This is the only path now for Dmitri to stay.”
Daniela nods multiple times. “Okay. Fine.”
“I suggest that we get as many details about the wedding as possible,” Vince says. “The immigration lawyers love pictures. They need to see that this wasn’t just a drunken escapade.”
“We did intentionally fly to Vegas from Boston,” Oskar says.
“We got married in the afternoon,” I continue, “no minibar enhancements.”
“Well,” Oskar says. “There was champagne in the limo.”
“There was?” Vince leans forward. “That’s great!”
“My son having access to alcohol was great?” Coach says, still glowering.
“I am twenty-three,” Oskar says tersely. “Don’t embarrass me.”
“All the details are important for immigration officers,” Vince says. “Your green card interview will be very important.”
“We’ll need everything to be expedited,” Daniela says. “We play in Montreal and Toronto next month.”
Vince nods. “So, um, do you have the photos?”
“Well...”
He raises his gaze from his notepad. “Well?”
“We didn’t actually take any photos,” I say.
“None?”
“None.”
My heartbeat pounds. They were just beginning to go along with this. But I ruined it. Somehow, I ruined it all.
“Dmitri has receipts,” Oskar says smoothly.
I nod hastily, pulling out my phone to forward everything to Vince: limo, hotel suite, restaurant.
“You know hockey players are very protective of their privacy,” Oskar continues.
“So no pictures,” Vince says miserably.
I already have Vince’s e-mail address on my phone and I forward him receipts quickly: of the limo, of the hotel room, of the restaurant.
“A two-bedroom honeymoon suite?” Vince mutters. “Just like any newlyweds.”
I’m pretty sure Vince thinks this is going to explode in pieces around us.
He might be correct.
Intelligence has never been my strong suit. It’s never mattered before. Hockey has always been everything. So much of my life has been spent practicing hockey. Watching games to imagine scenarios but also making myself stronger and faster.
God, if only I’d picked another agent. If only I hadn’t picked the one agent who was going to spend his time not doing paperwork. And now he’s sitting on a beach in Mexico somewhere.
I’m not going to let my life be destroyed because of something out of my control.
“I got a large suite in Vegas,” I say, “because it was the most important day of my life.”
I look to Oskar for support, but he’s studying the table’s wood grain. He’s been quieter since I proposed this plan.
Finally he nods. “The room was beautiful. Honeymoon package. Red petals everywhere.”
“Oh God.” Coach buries his face in his hands. “This is a terrible idea.”
“It’s my choice, Pappa,” Oskar says.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“You better take care of him,” Coach says. “Don’t hurt him. In any way.”
I blink. “I would never hurt Oskar.”
Coach just shakes his head, then leans toward Daniela. “He’s oblivious.”
She nods, and I frown.
“You’ll need to move in together,” Vince says.
“Oh.”
“This needs to be believable. Can you handle living with Oskar for months? Maybe a year?”
“Of course. I’m at his place all the time anyway.”
“You are?” Coach’s eyes widen.
“What don’t you understand about best friends?”
“Move into Dmitri’s place, Oskar.”
He stiffens. “It’s a studio.”
“But that shouldn’t matter since you’re so in love.” Vince’s lips swerve into a smirk.
He’s expecting me to say no way to this. I know he is. He’s expecting me to get angry, to leave, and then the Blizzards won’t have to worry about this immigration mess.
Well, I’m not having it. I’m not going down without a fight. I clasp hold of Oskar’s hand. “He’s moving in tonight. We’re very excited. Right, babe?”
“Yeah.” Oskar’s voice is thin and strained. “Super excited.”
Around us, everyone groans.