“Jesus Christ, you’re a train wreck.” I laughed my ass off. “But thanks, man. I really needed that.”
“Anytime. I’m here for whatever I can give.”
***
The following morning, I still had no idea what I was going to do as I walked to the coffee shop to meet Maya. The sight of her as I opened the door physically repulsed me—my stomach lurched into my throat and I tasted bile. I hated that this woman had anything to do with my sweet, innocent daughter.
She smiled as I took the seat across from her. “I ordered you coffee and breakfast. If I recall correctly, you made me pancakes the morning after we spent the night together, so I figured that was a safe choice.”
If only eyes could actually shoot daggers. “I’m not hungry.”
Maya sighed and folded her hands on the table. “Fine. I was trying to be friendly. Why don’t we just cut to the chase then, shall we? Are we getting married or not?”
Fuck. I don’t want to make this decision.
Yet she sat with zero emotion on her face, waiting for an answer.
I couldn’t help myself. Leaning forward, I glared at her. “How the hell can you do this? Use your own child? Were you abused as a kid? Tortured? Neglected by your own parents so badly that you no longer have a basic respect for humanity? Molested? There’s got to be a fucking reason.”
She looked down at her watch like I was boring her. “Is that a yes or a no?”
Nothing I said or did knocked this woman off her game. She had a one-track mind, and that scared the living shit out of me. It meant she would stop at nothing to get what she needed, regardless of who got hurt. I closed my eyes and prayed for strength before opening them again.
“I want everything filed by my attorney, not yours. I don’t trust anyone associated with you. I’m only marrying you so you can stay in this country and will leave my daughter alone. After it’s done, don’t contact me. I’m pretending this sham of a marriage never happened.”
“Fine. What’s your attorney’s name?”
“Adam Altman,” I said through gritted teeth.
Maya reached to the back of her chair and dug into her purse, pulling out a cell phone. She typed for a minute and then looked up. “On Fifty-Third?”
I nodded.
She clicked around a few more times before lifting her cell to her ear. Her eyes never left my face as she spoke. “Hello, I’d like to make an appointment with Mr. Altman, please.”
She was quiet for a moment, then… “Yes, a rather urgent immigration issue. Would he have anything available right away? Tomorrow, perhaps? I know it’s a Saturday, but we really need to speak to someone as soon as possible.”
Quiet again. She covered the phone and leaned forward. “Tomorrow at three PM?”
“Fine.”
I vaguely paid attention as she spoke for the next few minutes, giving both our names and other information to make the appointment. When she hung up, she looked pleased with herself. “All set. I’ll meet you there.”
“Can’t wait,” I grumbled.
“So tell me, how is Marisol doing? Is she healthy and thriving?” Maya shook her head. “I mean Saylor? That’s what you call her now, correct?”
“Do you even really give a shit?”
“Of course. She was named after my grandmother, you know.”
“Oh yeah? Did your grandmother raise your mother?”
Maya’s forehead wrinkled. “Yes.”
“Well, I’m glad her original name was from a good mother and not you, at least.” I pushed away from the table and stood. “By the way, she’s Saylor because you left without even telling me her name. I had to call her something. I’ll be there tomorrow at three.”
***
Maya showed up the next afternoon with her attorney. Xavier Hess was as crooked as his client.
“I have someone on the inside at the local immigration office,” he said. “I’ll get the case pulled and fast tracked as soon as the paperwork is filed.”
My attorney shook his head. “I don’t want any part of anything illegal.”
“Nothing illegal about having friends. Don’t tell me you’ve never schmoozed a judge’s clerk to get your case called first because you had a packed day?”
“As long as that’s all it is.”
“How long will it take if we get it fast tracked?” I asked.
“Probably only a few months,” Xavier said.
“Good. I’d like to be divorced by year’s end.”
My attorney frowned. “Colby, you’re going to have to keep those kinds of comments to yourself. I can’t represent you if I believe your marriage to Maya is a sham.”
For the first time since the evil witch walked back into my life, Maya looked a little nervous. She reached into my lap and took my hand. “It’s not a sham marriage. Colby just has a dark sense of humor, right, sweetheart?”
I yanked my hand away.
My attorney looked between us before speaking. “You’ll need to know each other very well. The interview process is not always simple. They sometimes ask invasive questions that a husband and wife should know about each other.”