“We’ve never seen him like this,” Skye confirmed. “Mom thinks the same too, by the way. And I trust her instincts.”
“You’re so bad for me.”
“But what would you do without us?”
I might not have said it out loud, but I couldn’t pretend with myself: I was falling for Hunter, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Josie
A few clichés about the lawyer world had proven to be true within my first year.
Ruthless competition? Check.
Long hours? Double check.
The adage that if you don’t have a mental breakdown your first three years, it means you’re cut out for it? Also true.
I had found ways to cope with my stress, especially since I’d received my own office. Behind the closed door, I could do whatever I wanted, and I took full advantage of that.
Usually that meant kicking off my heels and walking around barefoot. I had various tools to help with the back strain from sitting too long. I was currently sitting on a medicine ball, pressing my feet on a small reflex therapy mat.
September was a busy month for us, and I already needed a time-out. I couldn’t believe the honeymoon was already a month and a half ago.
I only had phone conferences for the rest of the day, but no physical appointments. Which was why, when one of my assistants called me, telling me they had someone here to see me, I was perplexed.
I checked my calendar, frowning. “I don’t have anything on my schedule.”
Drop-ins were highly unusual.
“It’s someone from the immigration office.”
I gripped the mouse so tightly that I almost couldn’t feel my fingers anymore.
“Should I tell her to come in?”
“Of course.” I forced my voice to remain calm. I couldn’t kid myself that this had anything to do with any of my cases. Immigration officials didn’t just come to one’s office. But I could pass it off to my superiors as research for one of my cases if anyone got wind of it.
Assistants usually didn’t discuss our business.
My legs were shaking a little when I rose from the ball. I immediately rolled it away, drawing my chair closer. I also put on my shoes as I watched the door open.
A woman in her midforties strode in. Her white-blond hair was styled in a strict bun. She wore a suit that made her fit right in here with the rest of us.
“Hello. I’m Josie Gallagher. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
I stepped from behind my desk, extending my hand. She shook it briefly.
“I’m the immigration worker in charge of your husband’s file.”
Nodding, I pointed her to the chair in front of my desk.
“Please, sit down. Do you want anything to drink? Water, coffee, tea?”
There. I sounded calm, as if her visit didn’t stress me out. I didn’t know if I looked calm, though. I felt as if I was in front of a judge, about to be sentenced. My entire face felt hot. My mind was racing a mile an hour. I wished I had gone to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face.
The more I tried to calm myself down, the more I panicked. What if I said the wrong thing? What if the agent could read between the lines?