Chapter 14 Two Birds, One Stone
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Two Birds, One Stone
HENRY
My chest felt like it was in a vice as she burst into giggles, eyes crinkling prettily at the corners, lips curved sinfully. I barely dared to breathe as her mirth dwindled, and then her grin went slack with what I could only assume was shock, then her brow furrowed, her lips pursing in a frown.
This was not going well.
I refused to let myself ponder why I cared so much about how she reacted to my proposal—because that was what it was, a proposal. Not in the romantic sense, but a proposal to solve her residency issues. A business proposal. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Perhaps I should have made that clear instead of just blurting the words out like an imbecile.
“You’re not joking, are you?” she whispered. “You actually mean it.”
I nodded, not quite trusting my voice.
“Henry … you know you don’t have to—”
“I want to.” I cleared my throat. “I have the capacity to solve this for you, and I’d like to offer my … services.” My cheeks heated. I waited for her to tease me about it, but it seemed I’d shocked her enough that she didn’t notice.
“Look, I probably could have explained myself a bit better. You said you don’t want to be forced into a marriage where you would feel trapped or controlled by your spouse—like you were with that woman who’s been harassing you.
” I squeezed my knees until my knuckles ached.
“What I’m offering would be contractual. Transactional, I guess.”
Her frown deepened. “What does that even mean?”
Sweat slicked my palms and my mouth went dry, but I pushed on. “I mean, I wouldn’t put any … sordid expectations on you. It would be a marriage for show only. We’d remain married long enough to secure your permanent residency, and then we could have a simple, amicable divorce.”
“You’d actually marry me, for like … years, I guess it takes to get permanent residency? And you’d be okay with that? What if, in that time, you met someone you wanted to marry for real?”
My blush deepened. “I wouldn’t. I won’t.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You can’t know that. It makes no sense. Well, it makes loads of sense for me … but what are you getting out of this?”
“I get to fix your problem. And … I get to take myself off the market for other women.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing,” she muttered.
“It is.”
I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by recounting the slew of awful texts I’d gotten from Cadence that afternoon.
She’d called Irina every synonym for whore under the sun, accused her of being a gold digger and warned me that I was too ‘na?ve’ around calculating women.
Apparently, I was about to be taken to the cleaners by the first woman who tricked me into thinking she had real feelings for me.
Did some small part of me want to do this to rub it in Cadence’s face? To exact revenge on her for the hurt she’d dealt me six years prior? Possibly.
But more than anything, I just wanted to help Irina. Somewhere deep down—so deep I couldn’t fully untangle it—I knew I could trust her. She seemed like a good person, and she deserved my help.
“I think you are downplaying the benefits of being officially off the market when you’re a wealthy man of marrying age,” I said wryly, hoping that would be enough to assuage her.
She snorted. “Okay then, Mr Darcy, you want the husband-hunting spinsters off your back.”
“You’re a Jane Austen fan?” I asked, shock making my words sharp. Irina laughed, a light, tinkling sound that had heat blooming in my gut.
“God, no. My best friend, Kat, makes me watch that movie with her like, once a month. I think it’s a premenstrual thing. She gets hormonal and needs her fix of ‘Mr Darcy’s flexing hand’.”
Her hand came up to her mouth, fingers sliding along her plump lower lip. I followed the movement, riveted.
“Do you really think it will work?” she asked, voice soft, uncertain. “I mean, will it stop them deporting me?”
I scratched my chin. I wasn’t going to lie to her about this. “We’ve got a few things to sort out. First, your visa’s already expired—that’s the big one. But I have a contact. I might be able to pull some strings with the paperwork. Leave it with me.”
My eyes flitted up, meeting hers through the screen. It was easier, this way, to make eye contact. It felt less raw, less overwhelming.
“That is … if you want to enter into this with me?” I added, heart thrumming. “I mean, if you’d prefer to marry a woman, if that will be more believable for your acquaintances—”
“I’ll marry you, Henry.” She beamed, and my own lips tugged up involuntarily in response. “And for the record, I’m bisexual.”
Something that had been tight in my chest since earlier in the day loosened, and I let out a gust of breath. “Well … that’s fortuitous.”
Her musical laugh lit up the synapses of my brain. “So, you’ll work out the details? When is this happening? How soon can we tie the knot?”
My chest tightened. “Uh, let me solve for all the variables, but I think sooner rather than later is important.” I looked down at my watch, as if that was going to help me. “It’s Easter next weekend. Perhaps we could do it as early as that?”
“I’d like that.”
I snuck a peek at her face, and for once, she was the one with a flush spreading across her cheeks. I fought my smile and lost abysmally. “Consider it done. I’ll be in touch.”
“Is talking on here safe?” she asked, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “I mean, can the police not like … subpoena transcripts from conversations or text messages? If they knew we’d been planning this …”
I shrugged wryly. “That’s the beauty of being the developer behind the app—I can wipe any and all records of our conversations from our servers.”
She beamed at me. “Hot, smart and devious! You’re really the whole package, Henry ‘Mocking Jay’ Baxter.”
I ended the call with my face muscles tight from the smile I just couldn’t get rid of and a week to plan a fake wedding.
“This is fucking insane!” Atlas crowed, smoothing the sides of his fauxhawk. “I love it! Chewy, just when I think I have you all worked out, you throw me a curve ball like this!”
“Look, I just need to know if your contact at Births, Deaths and Marriages will be amenable to tweaking dates on our marriage certificate,” I said tightly.
If it wasn’t for Atlas having someone on the inside, I likely wouldn’t have even included him in this discussion.
He was the type to find the whole thing so amusing that he would blurt it out in conversation and ruin everything for Irina.
“I think we might have more of a problem than tweaking dates, Henry,” Liv added tentatively.
She was perched on the lounge in my office, her laptop balanced on her knees.
Beside her, Lucian sat, arms folded, glowering.
I was not looking forward to the serving he was going to give me once everyone else had vacated my office.
“In what way?” I asked, popping some gum into my mouth.
Liv’s eyes darted to me, then to Lucian, then back to her screen.
“You need to complete a Notice of Intended Marriage. That should have been lodged at least a month before the wedding. And it needs to be filled in by you and Irina, and the licenced celebrant who will be conducting the ceremony. And it’s not just that …
you need to then apply for a partner visa, and that must happen within twenty-eight days of her visa expiring for her to be able to stay while that application is processed. ”
“Shit.” I ran a hand through my hair, then took my glasses off and dropped them on my desk, rubbing at my eyes. I was usually much more on top of ensuring I’d covered all bases. Why was I in such a rush with this that I hadn’t done my due diligence?
“Are these online applications? Send me the link, I’ll get into their back end. If we can claim their system glitched and they lost our application …”
Atlas cackled. “Are you catching this, Luce? He’s got it bad for this girl! Can’t stand the thought of her being deported, so he’s prepared to hack into government websites for her!”
Lucian made a grunting noise.
“It’s all online,” Liv confirmed. “I’ll send you the links. But you don’t have a celebrant for the wedding cere—”
“Does someone need a celebrant?”
All our heads snapped in unison to the door, where River Riley stood, beaming at us. I’d completely forgotten I’d scheduled in a meeting with him today. “Because you’re looking at one! Who’s getting hitched?”
Atlas leapt to his feet, grinning widely. “Our illustrious Mr Baxter! And it’s a rush job too, he—”
“Atlas, we need to go over security for your trip to California next week,” Lucian rumbled, striding over and putting himself between Atlas and River. “We’ve let some team members go last week, and I need to be sure whoever we send with you is the right fit.”
Atlas frowned. “I’m pretty sure that can wait, I mean, River must want to—”
“Oh, River’s here for a meeting with Henry!” Liv squeaked, and then she was on her feet too, snapping her laptop shut and hurrying to the door to usher River back into the foyer. “Apologies I wasn’t at my desk to greet you. Can I get you a coffee? Tea? Something cold?”
River, looking perplexed, let himself be led back out of the room. Lucian watched their retreating backs until they were out of sight before rounding on Atlas.
“You need to watch your mouth, Prideaux,” he hissed. “What Henry’s planning requires you to practise some fucking discretion. I know that’s not your forte, but just try, will you?”
Atlas, red-faced and scowling, nodded. “Jesus fucking Christ, it’s not that serious! It was just a bit of fun!”
Lucian slapped his hand down on my desk with so much force my computer rattled.
“You’re a twit if you think this isn’t serious.
Henry’s planning to break the law for this girl he’s known for all of a week, and if you don’t keep your mouth shut, and this gets out, this business will go down, and it’ll drag you down with it. ”