Operation Green Card Read online

  Riptide Publishing

  PO Box 1537

  Burnsville, NC 28714

  www.riptidepublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All person(s) depicted on the cover are model(s) used for illustrative purposes only.

  Operation Green Card

  Copyright © 2017 by G.B. Gordon

  Cover art: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com/design.htm

  Editors: Sarah Lyons, Carole-ann Galloway

  Layout: L.C. Chase, lcchase.com/design.htm

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Riptide Publishing at the mailing address above, at Riptidepublishing.com, or at [email protected].

  ISBN: 978-1-62649-675-0

  First edition

  December, 2017

  Also available in paperback:

  ISBN: 978-1-62649-676-7

  ABOUT THE EBOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED:

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  Arkady Izmaylov is a family man. He’s also gay. In Russia. His sister Natalya has been telling him to get out for years, but it’s only after an attack in the street that he finally concedes and says yes to her desperate plan of him marrying a stranger for a green card.

  Jason Cooley was taught from birth that he’s no good to anyone. Then the military taught him he was good enough to save other lives, but that purpose got amputated along with his leg. He’s now working security at Wolf’s Landing and sending monthly checks to his ex for their daughter’s education. When Natalya asks him to marry her brother, Jason knows right away he’ll do it more for the mission than the money she’s offering. But when he actually meets Arkady, his mission turns complicated.

  Jason quickly discovers he’s not as straight as he thought. He’s also the man of Arkady’s dreams. Arkady must convince Jason that he’s worth loving, and that Arkady won’t disappear from his life like everyone else. Because Arkady has always wanted a family of his own, and he’s not letting go of this one.

  Because love is love.

  About Operation Green Card

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Dear Reader

  Acknowledgments

  Also by G.B. Gordon

  About the Author

  More like this

  “C’mon, I tried,” Jason said to the It’s-so-fluffy unicorn belted in on the passenger seat beside him.

  The unicorn was clearly not impressed. Jason didn’t blame it. He’d tried to leave work early, but he wasn’t sure if that stuff just never worked out as planned or if his subconscious was always planning against him. On the plus side, it had made the drive from Bluewater Bay to Seattle a breeze, because he was hours behind the rush-hour traffic. But it also meant it was past ten by the time he reached Highland Park, and when he pulled up to the curb, the little rental under the big trees was predictably dark.

  He turned to the unicorn. “Looks like you’ll be spending the night on the porch, buddy.”

  The unicorn was glaring at him and sticking its tongue out.

  Jason sighed and looked back toward the house. He’d known Lily would be in bed before he made it. Of course he had. But he’d hoped he’d at least be able to have a peek at her as she slept.

  With a sigh, he unbuckled his belt and the unicorn’s, then awkwardly climbed out of the car, dragging the big plushy and getting his dummy foot stuck inside the doorframe.

  “Jason?”

  He turned and almost fell flat on his face, but caught one hand on the frame at the last second.

  Kendra stood in the half-open front door, outlined against the hall light, a trash bag dangling against her leg.

  Jason hooked one hand behind his knee and pulled the trapped foot free.

  “Sorry it got so late. I wasn’t going to ring the bell, I swear.” He held out the unicorn. “I was just going to leave him on the porch.”

  She didn’t look a day older than she had that fateful night six years ago, the week before he’d gotten himself deployed. Tall and athletic, though the weak light made her edges softer. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you want to come in? Let me just get rid of this.”

  He waited until she’d crammed the bag into the trash can by the side of the house, then followed her inside. “Dan not home?’

  “He’s on night shift this week. He left about an hour ago.” She led him into the kitchen, where he plopped the unicorn into a chair.

  “Cute,” she said. “Did you see the movie?”

  “Just clips, but the little girl reminded me of Lily. I thought she might enjoy it.”

  “She’ll love it. She asks about you. Wants to know what your favorite ice cream is. Stuff like that. C’mon, Jay, just take her out for ice cream one of these days. At least come over when she’s awake. Too often, you come when she’s already in bed.”

  He tried not to pull his head between his shoulders. Guilty as charged. But he wasn’t good for Lily. Better to leave things as they were. “I don’t want to confuse her.”

  “Bull,” Kendra said without heat. “She understands very well Dan adopted her, and who you are. You know that.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “I showed her your yearbook picture.” Then she got serious again. “Kids aren’t that easily confused. And Lily’s smarter than most.” There was pride in her face when she smiled. “She had to have a pre-admission screening for kindergarten because her birthday was after the cut-off date, and they told us she’s gifted.”

  “Wow.” On the surface, it was what every parent wanted to hear, but it also made him wary. It meant his little girl was different. And different meant difficult. It always did. “Does that mean a special school for her?”

  Kendra shrugged. “They mentioned that as a possibility, but a grand a month? Who can afford that, right? But there are programs at school, and she might skip a grade later on.” She cocked her head at him. Reading some of his doubts in his face, maybe? “She’ll be fine, Jay. She’s an absolute joy. You really need to visit during the day.”

  Too close. He was only good for people at a distance. He’d have no idea what to say to her, what to do, how to keep her happy. The only way he knew how to do that was by helping Kendra and Dan with whatever money he coul
d spare. Kendra had balked at it at first. They didn’t need it, Dan had a good job, she’d said. But Jason had a pretty good idea what Dan earned at the steel mill. It might be a steady income, but it sure as hell wouldn’t be stellar. And he himself didn’t need much. Kendra had only relented when he’d suggested investing the money in a GET program for Lily’s college.

  “Do you want to see her?” Kendra asked.

  It would cost him, but he did. So much. “Yeah, I . . . If you think . . .”

  “Come on upstairs.”

  At the top of the stairs she put a finger to her lips, then eased open the door to Lily’s room and waved him in.

  Lily lay sprawled sideways on her mattress, one fist tangled up in the cloud of dark curls spilling across the sheets, the other wrapped around a small and decidedly limp bunny, the blankets in a puddle on the floor. She had grown since he’d last seen her, her limbs longer now, less babyish. But she was still so tiny.

  She made his throat tight and set off all kinds of weird shit in his chest. He’d known this would happen. She did that to him every damned time. He wasn’t sure why he did that to himself, why he kept coming back here. Except that he needed to. She tethered him. Even though he didn’t belong here, he belonged to her in a way. Without her, he’d be completely adrift.

  He didn’t know how long he stood, just looking at his sleeping daughter, but when he turned back toward the door, Kendra had left.

  He found her downstairs in the kitchen, where she’d poured herself some milk.

  “Can I get you anything?” She pointed at the fridge. “Do you want a beer?”

  Jason shook his head. “Driving. I should get home too. Early day tomorrow.” He paused, not sure how to get out what was sticking in his brain about the school she’d mentioned and how much it cost. It wasn’t his call. And he didn’t have the money either. He’d try to get it, of course, but better not talk about that unless he actually had something to talk about.

  “Drive safe.”

  “Always.”

  “Jay?”

  He was already in the hallway and looked back over his shoulder.

  “Think about coming by when she’s up. You know you’re always welcome.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. I will.” Think about it.

  He threw a last glance at the unicorn, then left. It was a long drive back to Bluewater Bay.

  It was just that bit harder to get up before dawn the next day, and Jason was grateful that Mark, his ride-share and Wolf’s Landing’s head of costumes, wasn’t a talker. Traffic was light this early, but Jason’s tired brain was stuck in a loop of She’s gifted. She needs a special school. I can’t afford it. But, she’s gifted. He didn’t have room in there for chitchat.

  Jason threw a glance to his right. They weren’t friends. Close to; Mark might be the closest thing to a friend he had, but it was easier this way. Friendship always seemed to require talking about oneself, which he wasn’t good at. And eventually people left, which was harder. So yeah, this was fine.

  At the Wolf’s Landing studios, the gate opened when they arrived. Turner, who was on duty this morning, peered inside the car and waved when they went past the brightly lit gate house, but he’d already opened the gate on their approach, when he could only have recognized the car. Convenient, but not safe. Jason filed it away to bring up as a general point at the next weekly meeting. It wasn’t his place to discipline anyone.

  He automatically scanned the parking lot when he got out. One of the cameras seemed a little out of alignment. He’d better check that on the monitor.

  Mark had already wandered off, so Jason locked the car and made his way over to the tower, which was what the guys had dubbed the surveillance center. It wasn’t an elevated structure at all, merely a room filled with monitors and communication equipment on the second floor of the administration building. Jason assumed the semicircular arrangement of the larger monitors had reminded someone of an airport traffic control tower. He had no idea where the name would otherwise have come from.

  He went through the routine of shift change, glanced through the log, then poured himself a coffee from his thermos and settled in. The studio never really slept, but it did quiet down over night. Now the early birds trickled in.

  He watched one of the producers, Anna Maxwell, drive in, always among the first to arrive and one of the last to leave, Jeremy like a magnet on her tail. Now there was a detail that would pay him more money than babysitting the fucking monitors did, but they’d never let him work as a bodyguard. Would they? He could at least ask; worst that could happen was a no. He knew he’d be good at it. Don’t get your hopes up, Cooley.

  The camera of Parking Three was indeed a bit off. He was missing a corner of the lot on his screen. It didn’t happen often, but occasionally a large bird of prey or an adventurous raccoon could move a camera, if it wasn’t fastened tight. He’d see if he could catch Krueger in his office after lunch and let him know. Jason could just write it into the shift log, but he wanted to talk to Krueger anyway. He hated asking for anything, but he really needed to make more money. She’s gifted. She needs a special school.

  He sighed and unpacked a sandwich. Another boring day, courtesy of a missing limb that disqualified him from what he wanted or was good at. He stared at his left shoe: not even anything in there he could hate. He didn’t hate the prosthesis; he’d be worse off without it. And one couldn’t hate air.

  Damn, wasn’t it lunchtime yet?

  Jason knocked on the frame of the open door and stepped into his boss’s office. He waited until Krueger had finished his phone call, then said, “One of the cameras in parking lot three is off-kilter. Might want to send someone out with a ladder.”

  Krueger nodded. “Thanks. And you’re really here, because . . .”

  Damn, the bastard didn’t miss a thing. Ever. Jason took a deep breath. “I need another shift.”

  Krueger blinked. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “Is there something going on I should know about? Anything I can help with? You’re not in any trouble, are you? What in the world do you need all that money for?”

  All that money. When they were paying him a dollar above minimum wage.

  “Price of bread is rising again,” Jason deadpanned to stop the questions.

  “Yeah, fuck you too.”

  Shit. He hated standing here, begging for work. But he couldn’t afford to antagonize the guy, who’d been trying to be nice.

  “My daughter’s tuition just went up.”

  Immediately Krueger relented. “That sucks, man. I have two. Twelve and fourteen. I hear ya. But honestly, Cooley, I don’t know what you expect me to do. You’re already working two shifts and the day only has three. Are you sleeping on weekends only, or what?”

  Jason chewed on his cheek. “I could work weekends. Or at least let me switch one shift for night.” Night shift paid a buck more per hour.

  “I don’t have any openings. Best I can do is let you have first dibs when someone’s sick.”

  Jason nodded. “Appreciate it.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Unless you want to put me on a close-protection detail.”

  Krueger groaned. “Cooley, you’re killing me, you know that? You want to work as a bodyguard? With your medical?”

  The anger flared up like a match struck in his gut. “Fuck the medical. I pass the fitness test every year. And you know as well as I do that I could run circles around at least two of the guys out there. Not because I run faster, but because I’d be moving before it even registered on their two brain cells that something was happening.”

  “I know, I know. Unfortunately that’s not the point. Point is, regs. If I signed off on the guy with one leg doing anything except sitting in a chair monitoring the surveillance equipment, we’d both be out of a job.”

  Jason pressed both fists against his thighs in an effort to rein in his temper, and Krueger sighed.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Cooley. Buy a
lottery ticket, marry rich, or, seriously, go back to school for higher paying work; you’re a smart guy. I’d hate to lose you, but I can give you some contacts if you want to go that way.”

  “Thanks,” Jason got out. “I’ll think about it.”

  It wasn’t Krueger’s fault. The guy was trying his best. But that still left Jason empty-handed. And seething. Easy for the shrinks at the hospital to tell him that losing his leg didn’t define who he was. Tell that to everyone else. Because it sure as hell defined who he wasn’t anymore.

  He did a sharp about turn and left the office, almost colliding with Natalya, the stunt coordinator, in the hallway. He’d seen her around a few times, but they hadn’t really talked much. And, of course, the whole studio knew about her relationship with Anna Maxwell, the producer. It had been impossible to miss at the time; the gossip machine had made sure of that, though things had quietened down. With a mumbled apology he brushed past her, surprised when she fell into step beside him, or tried to.

  She only reached to about his chest and had to run to keep up with his stride. “Damn it, slow down a minute, would you?”

  “Why?” He was still pissed, but not at her, of course, and curiosity was starting to gain the upper hand, so he relented and shortened his step. Less of an effort, anyway, but the whole thing had been satisfying for about five seconds.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing the tail end of your conversation when I passed. I might have an idea for you.”

  “That was private,” he growled.

  “Sorry. You were loud. You want to hear it or not?” She spoke with a hard Russian accent, and her eyes dared him to mess with her, even though she had to look up quite a ways.

  He hadn’t calmed down enough to find the humor in that, but she had his attention. “Fine. Shoot.”

  “Not here. The Gull. Tonight. You know it? Does 8 p.m. work for you?”

  The Gull? Really? She was avoiding his eyes, which made this whole thing sound even more suspicious. “If it involves drugs, I’m not interested.”

  “What? No!”