Page 4 of Seale the Deal

That’s the brilliant part, Remi says. You two met on that four-day whirlwind trip and started talking afterward and never stopped. It’s believable.

Believable? I repeat. Remi, this isn’t a school project. This is an actual marriage.

That finally slows her down.

Just slightly.

It wouldn’t be forever, she says. Just a couple years, and you’d have your green card, then an easy-peasy divorce. Then you could go anywhere you wanted. New York. LA. Somewhere your ex can’t touch your career anymore. I’ll come with you!

Easy-peasy divorce? Do you hear yourself? I say.

I drag my hand through my thick curls and let out a long sigh. I hate that this idea is tempting. A K-1 visa and a green card would fast-track me out of the Canadian fashion industry and give me access to the American one. I could rebuild my life in a new country.

But there’s no denying this is fraud. Actual, federal-crime-level fraud.

And the consequences range anywhere from being banned from the US for life to actual prison time. And orange really isn’t my colour.

Worse, though, is the fact that this entire hypothetical disaster hinges entirely on another person. Ruger Seale isn’t some random guy from a dating app who’s accidentally wandered into a terrible decision. He’s real. And it doesn’t feel too bold to assume that he has very real feelings.

Which raises one extremely important question.

And Ruger will… agree to this?

I don’t know, Remi admits, though the wheels in her head are very clearly already spinning. But Ruger has this compulsive need to help people, even when it’s objectively a terrible idea.

That doesn’t explain why he’d agree to commit a felony for me.

Your entire career got torched by a powerful man. Ruger’s very weird about injustice.

I give her a look because none of that feels strong enough to justify fake-marriage-level commitment.

It’s temporary, she says. Ruger is allergic to serious relationships, and the fact that you fully intend to leave Alaska for a bigger city someday only makes this safer for him. He’s basically anaphylactic to life in a city.

I sigh, because at most, she’s just asking him for a deeply questionable favour. And he has every right to say no.

And what exactly do I have to lose?

I have no job. No boyfriend. No siblings to fall back on. I have no real support system anymore. Most of my friends sided with Captain Skinny-Dick during the breakup after he accused me of using him to build my career and never really loving him in the first place. Which hurt more than I like admitting because I poured so much of myself into that relationship. The only reason I have a place to land now is because Kay’s been on and off in my life since I was a kid because my dad was friends with her dad.

And my own parents…

My dad died a few years ago from a massive heart attack, and my mom’s been out of my life since she left in 1992. I’m not even sure if I could pick her out of a lineup at this point.

Which means the only thing left for me in Vancouver is this IKEA pullout couch that is actively trying to fold me into the afterlife.

Fine, I say finally. If your brother agrees, we can discuss it.

Remi squeals. I hate hugging, but if I could hug you right now, I absolutely would.

That night, I finish my roommate’s fancy wine. The next day, Remi asks her brother to take my hand in holy matrimony. A week after that, he agrees.

I didn’t know it then, but exactly one year later, I’d become the newest resident of Alpine Harbor, Alaska.

Chapter 1

Wrenley

DAYS LEFT ON VISA: 90