“So, Elisa,” Bob starts with an encouraging smile. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, and I can see if we can help.”

“Thank you, Bob. And thank you to the rest of you,” I say, grateful that my voice is calm and betrays nothing of the jungle inside.

I tell the lawyers everything. The hundreds of forms, the tens of applications, the three visa types, even my illegal modeling at Feign Art. They scribble furiously, Bob nodding most of the time, his eyes wide. In the end, there is a very long pause. I look at each of their faces as they stare at the download of information on their notepads. Finally, Bob speaks.

“My dear girl! You’ve really done your best, haven’t you?”

I don’t know why my throat tightens all of a sudden. Perhaps it’s his twinkly eyes, his wheezy voice that reminds me of Grandpa Snow or his kind words. Whatever the reason, I cannot talk without my voice shaking so I simply nod and doodle atomic orbits on my notepad.

“So that leaves one mystery,” Bob probes gently. “Surely if you know enough to have done all this, I suspect you know the only options left.”

“I think so, but you’re the experts.”

Aiden speaks for the first time. “I insisted, Bob. I don’t know the options and I’d like to be thoroughly briefed on all alternatives.”

Bob nods again. “Well, in a nutshell, she’s in a real bind. She came here on an exchange student visa, which makes sense because she was partially funded by Oxford, but it deprives her of some avenues open to other students. So now she only has some temporary options and three permanent options.”

“What do you mean by that?” Aiden’s voice is hard. It’s obvious that he is out of his depth and that this is rare for him.

“Well, temporary visas are for those who don’t intend to live here and, like her student visa, eventually they’d all expire. And when they do, she would have to return.”

“That sounds ludicrous.” Aiden states the obvious. “Why go through all that if she’ll be in the same spot down the road?”

Bob turns to me. “Elisa, am I right that you want to live here forever? Immigrate, as it were? Instead of these temporary options?”

“Yes, that’s what I want. But if I have to leave, I’d rather do it now. Later would be much harder. More connections…” I don’t risk looking at Aiden, but I can feel his eyes boring into me as my voice trails off.

“On the other hand, it may buy you some time. Time to pursue one of the permanent options,” Bob suggests kindly.

“What are the permanent options?” Aiden demands again.

Bob looks him squarely in the eye. How much has he guessed about our relationship? “Marriage to a U.S. citizen, Mr. Hale, a million dollars or an act of Congress.”

Silence follows his words. I peek at Aiden.

“Marriage is not an option,” he says through his teeth so sharply that the lawyers fall back in their chairs.

His tone is so cutting that I turn my face away reflexively like he just slapped me. Not because I was expecting him to marry me, but because of the way he said the words. With a bitter edge of anger, almost revulsion. So public too. He would never react like this if he saw even a glimmer of potential for us.

I wrap my fingers around my dad’s watch, trying to find my lungs or any part of my body that I recognize. I’m in too deep. Even though I knew this would eventually end, I allowed myself to feel this way. To fall this hard, this quickly. Foolish Elisa. I want to run as far away from here as possible. I should have listened to Javier. I should have listened to that little voice in my head.

Bob recovers first. “Well, in that case, Elisa, do you have any other marriage options?”

I want to look down but this is too fundamental to face with downcast eyes. I look Bob in the eye. “No, Bob. And I didn’t come to this meeting to wheedle a marriage proposal.”

My statement is meant for one man in particular and he knows it. As he must know that he just ended any chance we had together with his humiliating reaction. I don’t look his way.

Bob smiles kindly. “I think that’s very clear, dear. I don’t think a woman like you would be in want of a husband if that was her goal. And, in any event, I should tell you that marriage likely wouldn’t work here if you’re entering a brand-new relationship.” His eyes flit to Aiden and back to me. “You see, the CIS examines marriages to non-U.S. citizens very closely for fraud. If you only found someone now and were married in the next few days, your green card would almost certainly get denied. You need to prove some history before you can convince the government.”

I nod, ignoring a ramrod-straight Aiden next to me. Bob gives me a grandpa smile and turns to Aiden, looking a bit frosty.

“You wanted to hear the other permanent options, Mr. Hale, so here they are. She can try to get Congress to approve her to stay but that’s happened only a few times in the history of this country, it takes a long time and frankly, she has a better chance of winning the Powerball.

“The other option is that she does indeed win the Powerball or, said less dramatically, that she comes across one million dollars and invests it in an American business. She can effectively attempt to buy her green card that way.” Bob’s voice has none of the warmth it has when he addresses me.

To my surprise, Aiden relaxes and leans back in his chair. He must have heard something he likes because he is not biting the man’s head off for daring to address him in such a manner.

“Well, that’s settled then. I’ll just give her the money.” He sounds like he just bought a car. Or a prostitute.

Suddenly, it all makes sense. He said it himself when we were at Paradox. He is selfish. Only I was too lost in my own fantasy to accept it. He wanted to fuck the girl in the paintings. Well, he did. But then she became too real in the morning. And now, to ease any guilt he feels for using a poor orphan, he’ll just throw some cash at her.

Well, I don’t have much but I have dignity. I stand up. Everyone looks at me in surprise, but they stand with me.

“Gentlemen, I’d like to speak to Mr. Hale alone. Is there somewhere I can do that?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ghosts

“Sure, Elisa.” Bob recovers first and leads us out of the room. I follow, not bothering to see if the Wanker of the Century is behind me. If he is not, I’ll take the elevator down and go home. Bob shows us to a smaller conference room with no windows and leaves.

I walk in, keeping my back to the door. I hear it close and turn slowly, afraid that if I rush, I will rip off his head and maybe even his impressive dick. He looks wary. As he should be.

“All right, Elisa. Let’s talk about this.”

I grit my teeth together and glare at him. “Yes, let’s. Maybe you can start for once. Is a million dollars the going rate for a virgin these days?”

At first, he frowns and then all expression leaves his face as he turns to stone. “You think I’m buying you?”

“Forty thousand for a half-naked painting. God knows how much for the others. And the hymen—oh, that’s the crown jewel.” I put as much sarcasm and ice in my voice as I can.

Under my glower, his face changes to fury. Flexed jaw, flared nostrils, thin lips and narrow dark eyes.

“I’m not paying you for sex. I’m doing this to help you,” he hisses through his teeth.

“Help me? Me? Really? You gain no benefit from this at all?”

“That’s not the point. The point is—”

“Let me save you the trouble and the breath, Aiden. The point is to give the poor little orphan girl money from the overflowing coffers of the billionaire who only wanted to fuck her. You weren’t counting on conversation, on sharing more than a bed, meals and money. When she became a person, instead of a portrait, that ruined your fantasy. Only you’re too decent to take an orphan girl’s virginity and then dump her on the streets, right?” My body is shaking with anger. I have minutes, maybe even seconds, before the dams burst. “A million dollars for the luxury of believing that you did right by me must be quite a bargain for someone like you. You can keep your millions, Aiden. The sex was on the house.” With that, I march right past him to the door. His arm flies out and he stops my exit.