this stuff?
Her head ached by the time the JP showed up at the house.
She was disappointed to open the door and reveal a smiling
middle-aged woman with dyed blonde hair, a little crispy on
the ends, a white suit about a size too small, and a kind smile.
She was hoping it was Coralyn. That they could talk before
they were going to do this.
“My fiancée should be here soon,” Giana told the woman as
she showed her in.
“Carol.” She stuck out a hand that was devoid of jewellery.
“Pleasure to meet you. I have all the paperwork with me. It
was expedited and—”
“Thank you.” Giana had called for the JP and explained
everything the day before, as soon as Coralyn agreed. She’d
texted Coralyn, asking her to send her a copy of her ID and
information to the agency so that they could take care of the
paperwork. They’d said on the phone that it was an unusual
circumstance, but she’d offered them ten thousand dollars to
do it. Which, after a quick check to her bank accounts, the
numbers and passwords she’d found written in a small black
notebook taped to the underside of a drawer in the desk in her
office, she knew she could afford. Somehow, she’d
remembered exactly where to look for that book.
But she still couldn’t remember any details about the
woman she was going to marry. Guilt, fresh and sharp, clawed
at her as she offered Carol a drink.
“I have everything from water to whisky. Whatever you
prefer.”
“Water would be fine, thanks.” Carol reconsidered after a
moment’s pause. “Actually, you know what? If you’re having