Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
Hunter
I first stopped in the kitchen, where a wisp of a woman with gray hair pulled back in a severe bun was checking on the roast beef. Amelia smiled at me when I handed her a bouquet of flowers and dessert.
“Thank you.” Just as I bent to kiss her cheek, Amelia’s radar kicked in, and she asked, “What’s wrong with you, my boy? You seem preoccupied.”
She was right. I’d checked my mail for the first time in a week before leaving my apartment this afternoon and had discovered a very troubling letter. But I didn’t intend to ruin her or anyone else’s mood today.
“The usual pressure at work,” I said vaguely, hoping that assuaged her interest for now.
“You’d better forget about it today. I’ll have none of that at my table, Hunter Caldwell.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I was determined to leave the issue at the doorstep. I’d fix this, just as I usually obliterated any inconvenience in my path. I’d built my company when the odds had been stacked against me. I’d find a solution for this too, but it wouldn’t be tonight.
I just had to focus on my family, and with some luck, no one would guess anything. I headed to the living room, where my cousins and Josie were gathered.
“Hunter, did you come to a consensus at the brunch?” Cole asked. He was my business partner, but we’d agreed that only I would attend the brunch today, otherwise we’d look too eager to close the deal.
Skye, who stood right between us, shook her head, pointing from Cole to me.
“Boys, a word of advice: don’t get on Mom’s bad side by discussing business right now. You know her rule: family celebrations are no place to talk shop.”
“Skye’s right. I’ll update you later.”
We chitchatted about the upcoming fireworks show. My mind wasn’t on the brunch or the client, anyway. I had bigger worries on my mind. I thought I did a good job of hiding that—until Josie pulled me aside.
“Spill it. What’s wrong?” she asked. My best friend never missed anything. I should have known there was no way I’d fool her. I could try to deflect, but experience had taught me it would lead me nowhere. So instead, I tilted my head in the direction of the library.
“That bad? Let’s go,” she said.
In the general mayhem, no one noticed us slip away.
“Want a drink?” I said once I’d closed the door behind us. Amelia kept a small bar in the library.
Josie scrutinized me but nodded. I handed her a glass of red wine, then opened up to her.
“Found a letter from immigration services in my mail. They’re not renewing my E2 visa.”
I’d lived in the United States for twenty-eight years, but I still had a British passport.
After finishing my studies, I’d applied for a work visa and then an entrepreneurial visa.
I’d always meant to apply for residency or citizenship, but I kept putting that on the back burner.
I’d just never had time to deal with everything.
It hadn’t been a priority, because my visa had been renewed periodically.
Until now. I’d lived here, in New York, since I was four years old.
My father had been one of the most successful businessmen in the city until he went bankrupt.
Shortly afterward, he passed away from a heart attack, when I was fourteen.
Mom moved back to their native London. I’d chosen to stay in the US because I’d gotten a scholarship at a local private school, which also offered a boarding option.
It was a tumultuous time in the family. Mom and Amelia are sisters.
Her then-husband had worked with Dad, managing the Boston office.
After the bankruptcy, he left Amelia and my cousins for a younger woman.
Amelia had been a homemaker until then. Getting a job and raising a family on her own was something she was not prepared for.
Mom had been good friends with my school’s principal, and she pulled some strings to secure a teaching position for her sister.
Amelia moved her family to New York and became my legal guardian.
I visited Mom a few times a year in the UK, but my business was here. My life was here. New York was my home.
“Do you have a digital copy of your current visa?” Josie asked.
“No, it’s all at home.”
“Take a picture of it and send it to me as soon as you get home, okay? I’ll start looking into it tonight.”
“Thanks, Josie, but this isn’t your area of expertise.”
Josie was a brilliant lawyer, but she specialized in corporate law.
“I’ve dealt with the immigration services in a few cases. I know my way around those laws. I can’t believe it has come to this. We’ll fix it, don’t you worry.”
I was worrying, because there was a real risk I’d have to leave the United States. Even if only temporarily—I couldn’t do that. I had zero connection to the UK except a British passport. I didn’t even have an accent.
Josie closed her eyes briefly, taking a huge gulp of her wine.
“Easy there, tiger, or Amelia will have my ass for getting you drunk before we eat.”
She flashed me a gorgeous smile. “All these years later, and she’s still on your case for getting me into trouble?”
“You can set her straight anytime you feel like it. Anytime,” I said.
“I quite like her thinking I was the innocent one all those times. Who knows what she’d do if I fess up? Maybe she’ll stop inviting me over for the Fourth of July dinner.”
“Doubt anything would make her stop inviting you. I don’t want to tell them anything. They’ll just worry for no reason.”
“Ok.”
I put my hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the door.
“Let’s go back before they get suspicious,” I said.
I was close enough to notice a few freckles on her shoulders and the exposed part of her back.
She only got them after being in the sun.
Her skin looked so smooth that I barely stopped myself from touching her.
Jesus, I had to stop that line of thinking.
Josie grinned. “I’m sure Tess already noticed we’ve disappeared. You just wait.”
My cousin Tess had noticed everything even as a kid, and that hadn’t changed. She pointed a finger at us the second we returned to the living room.
“So… what’s with the secret escape?” she asked.
Josie laughed, giving me an I-told-you-so look. “Hunter and I can keep our secrets, can’t we?”
Josie
I was on pins and needles for the rest of the dinner. The second I arrived at home, I kicked off my shoes, grabbed my laptop, and dove headfirst into my research.
Deported .
The word sent a cold shiver all over me. I wouldn’t let that happen. I knew he had the best lawyers on hand, but I couldn’t just do nothing. I was a lawyer too, and a very good one at that, and I was determined to help out my best friend.
Hunter was a powerful man. If he had a problem, he fixed it. If he set a goal, he reached it, no matter how many people told him it was far-fetched.
He’d been headstrong and emanating an unshakable sense of power since the day I met him.
The two of us were scholarship students at the private school we attended.
The other kids picked on me because of my clothes—my family didn’t have the money for fancy ones.
But where I’d been short and scrawny, Hunter had been tall and muscular and not one bit afraid to use his physique to intimidate others into leaving me alone.
I checked the immigration services requirements for green cards and visa extensions, then investigated some statutes. The knot in my stomach turned tighter as the hours went by, because these were murky waters, especially once they’d decided not to renew your existing visa.
It was three o’clock in the morning when my phone buzzed with an incoming message.
Hunter: Are you asleep?
Josie: No, still researching.
I’d made lists upon lists but had no definitive answer for him. I scrunched my nose when he called.
“I’m not done with the research,” I said instead of greeting him.
“Josie, go to sleep. I’ll have my team deal with this on Monday. Hell, I’ll have a new team brought in.”
“I want to look everything up too. The immigration services are pretty exact in their terms.”
“All right, hit me up. What did you find?”
I was lying on the bed on my belly, dangling my feet, chewing the end of a pencil. I didn’t like talking about my work until I had researched every possible angle of the law to exhaust all available options.
“Come on, Josie. I’m your best friend, not a judge. Just hit me up with whatever solution you have.”
“Okay, okay…. Short of marrying an American, you’re stuck with going through complex paperwork and keeping your fingers crossed. I mean, paperwork will be involved anyway, but this is a more straightforward route.”
He gave a strained laugh. “You’re joking.”
“Unfortunately, not. Look, you have options of course, especially because you have a huge business, but they didn’t renew your visa… so I’m not quite sure what they’re looking for. Anyway, you need a green card. Your lawyers never mentioned that?”
“They did, I just didn’t have time to deal with it.”
“Okay. So, about the green card. Many people marry to obtain it. As a lawyer, I definitely don’t recommend that course of action. It’s a felony. If you’re discovered, your American counterpart can get up to a few years in prison, and you’d be deported.”
“But as a friend, you’d recommend it?”
I hesitated. “From my experience, it’s the easiest route. It’s not easy by any means, but easier than other options.”
Hunter said nothing for a few seconds. He sounded dejected when he spoke next. “I haven’t found anyone to marry in thirty-two years. I don’t think I can just whip someone up on demand….”
Interesting. I hadn’t known Hunter wanted to find anyone. He’d made it clear on more than one occasion that he didn’t intend to settle down anytime soon. I supposed when you looked the way Hunter did and had so much wealth... why settle?
“It doesn’t have to be real, Hunter. Just an arrangement with someone you trust until you’re done with this. But, again… that’s against the law, so you’re better off exploring your other options. Do you want me to email you after I’m done with my legal suggestions?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay.”
“You’re amazing, Josie.”
The timbre of his voice was deliciously sensual. Most times I managed to ignore that, but not now, in my sleepy haze. Heat coursed through me with an intensity that made the muscles in my belly contract. My own voice was a little uneven as I bid him goodnight.
Some days, being Hunter Caldwell’s best friend was a dangerous endeavor.
I finalized my research at four o’clock in the morning and sent it to Hunter. Thank God tomorrow was Saturday. As a lawyer, I often worked long hours, but I hadn’t pulled an all-nighter in a few years.
I’d assumed I’d sleep the second my head touched the pillow, but ugly thoughts pummeled my mind.
What if Hunter didn’t get this sorted out? I’d gotten so used to him getting his way that it had never occurred to me that he’d ever encounter an obstacle he couldn’t overcome. What if he had to relocate?
For a few seconds, I reverted to that teenage girl who’d had no one but him, and an icy shiver slid down my spine.
I almost reached for my phone to check if he’d replied to my email. I was ridiculous. What was I expecting? That he’d emailed me back in the last five minutes, informing me that he’d found a miraculous solution, as always?
By the time I fell asleep, it was early morning.
I woke up four hours later, feeling as if my head weighed a ton. I was truly too old for all-nighters. I intended to head straight into the shower, but the phone caught my attention. I had an unread message from Hunter.
Hunter: You’re probably going to sleep in, but shoot me a text when you wake up.
Josie: I’m up.
He answered right away.
Hunter: Do you have plans today?
Josie: Just in the evening.
Hunter: Can I drop by in an hour or so?
Josie: Sure.
I was certain he wanted to go through the list I’d sent him this morning.
I hurried with my shower, wanting to have some time to read through it again.
I was still too sleepy to form any real coherent thoughts, so after showering, I settled on my couch, sipping a large coffee.
I lived in a comfortable one-bedroom apartment in Kips Bay.
It was a good compromise between not having a killer commute to work and not wasting half my salary on rent.
Most days, the lack of décor in my home didn’t bother me, since I wasn’t here much, but on my days off, it did become obvious how simple it all was.
White walls; furniture in various shades of cream and gray.
I had one single painting from IKEA, depicting a rainforest, hanging next to the TV.
Interior design had never been my forte. Neither was fashion, but that was easier to wing. I owned suits—practically my lawyer uniform—and a few cocktail dresses. I was still a plain girl at heart.
I’d just reread the email for the second time when the doorbell rang.
When I opened the door, Hunter was grinning down at me, holding a take-out bag from my favorite breakfast joint. Why, oh why did that smile have to be so damn sexy and alluring?
“I come bringing gifts.”
I smelled grilled cheese and pancakes. My mouth watered. I narrowed my eyes.
“Are you trying to bribe me into going to one of those fancy-pants galleries with you?
Because I’ve got to tell you, once was enough for me.” I was grinning, but I kind of meant it. He usually started buttering me up by bringing me breakfast on the weekend.
His smile widened. “I’m trying to bribe you to marry me.”