You're The One (Very Irresistible Bachelors 1)

We found an empty table by the window and sat opposite each other.

“So, this moved fast. We didn’t know you were seeing someone seriously.”

Why was he still asking about personal issues? We usually discussed cases and our bosses.

“It just happened,” I said in a monotone voice, in no mood to continue this conversation. I reached for my glass, taking a sip of the icy-cold soda.

“Does Caldwell already have his green card?”

I felt as if someone had dumped all the ice cubes from the glass on top of my head.

“Oh, that? No.”

There. I sounded calm, composed. As if the question didn’t matter at all. Come to think of it, how did Nigel even know Hunter wasn’t a citizen? Then I remembered, there was a plethora of articles available about Hunter, and they often said he was born in England. Regardless, I wished I’d put more effort into recounting a convincing love story.

“I see. Lucky he’s married an American, then. Won’t have to go through so much paperwork.”

Don’t panic. Don’t panic. I repeated that mantra a few times, drawing on my years of experience as a lawyer. I’d been blindsided by evidence brought in at the last moment more times than I could count. But this was different. This was personal. I considered my next words very carefully. It made no sense to deny this. With a pang of horror, I wondered if the immigration services had started asking around already.

“The two things aren’t related.” I was proud of how confident I sounded.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

I changed the subject to a huge custody battle that had made headlines recently.

I needed to get my bearings before I spoke too much or said the wrong thing. Hunter and I needed a strategy in case more people came up with similar comments.

I could barely concentrate for the rest of the afternoon. I wanted to talk to Hunter but didn’t want to put everything into a text, and I didn’t want to risk calling him. What if anyone overheard us?

So when Hunter called a few hours later, I barely refrained from telling him everything.

“Hello, husband.”

“Hey! When do you think you’ll be ready today?”

“Around six. Why?”

“Amelia called. She wants us over for dinner tonight, no excuses.”

“Uh-oh. She actually said no excuses?”

“Yes. Also used my middle name when I tried to come up with one.”

I laughed. “Ouch. Wouldn’t have wanted to be in your place.”

“Trust me, I didn’t want to be in my place.”

“Then we’d better show up.” I smiled for the first time in hours, spinning in the chair. I hadn’t seen Amelia since the wedding two weeks ago, and I already had withdrawals.

“I’ll pick you up at six?” he went on.

“Sure.” I wanted to tell him about my conversation with Nigel right away, because I was bursting at the seams with worry, but managed to keep silent. I’d tell him everything in a few hours.

At five fifty-five, I practically flew out of the office. I was usually one of those who burned the midnight oil on Mondays, to get ahead of the week, but I could see that pattern changing.

On the way out of the building, Nick caught up with me.

“Josie, you’re back. Almost couldn’t believe it when they told me you took off two weeks.”