Page 2 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

She eyes me full-on now. “An EU visa requires you to state your correct civil status. You told us on the forms that you were single. Never married.”

I nod. “That’s right. That’s correct.”

She’s looking at me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m lying. “Are you sure about that?”

“Of course.”

She glances back to the screen. “According to Social Security records, your marital status is married.”

“Excuse me?” I say. “There must be some mistake. I’m not married. I never was.”

“According to Social Security you’ve been married for nine years, and the discrepancy is getting you flagged and rejected. The powers that be are very picky about that sort of thing these days. Terrorism and so forth.”

“There has to be some kind of mix-up. Maybe somebody is using my Social Security number or something.” I try a smile. “I mean, I’d know if I were married, right?”

She reads off my Social Security number and I confirm that that is, indeed, my correct Social Security number. She frowns at her screen.

“Who am I supposedly married to?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “It just shows your status here. As married.”

“They can’t straighten it out?” I ask. The company’s tour office usually handles this sort of thing.

Rosemary informs me that only I can straighten out a matter this personal. I’m going to need a notarized marital status affidavit which I’m to get in person from the New York county clerk at the New York County Supreme Court.

“I’ll head over first thing tomorrow morning,” I say, eager to get to rehearsal.

“No, look,” Rosemary says, voice softening. “Mix-up or not, if we can’t get this worked out, we can’t bring you along. Right now, you’re not somebody we can bring to three of our host countries.”

“But I’m not married! Obviously it’s a typo or whatever.”

“I know, I get that, but we need this nailed down. Daneen will be dancing in your place today.”

“What?” I gust out.

“You need to make this your top priority. You have a month to get that affidavit. I’ve spoken with my contacts, and that will give me enough time to get those visas in order. They’re holding it open; they just need to see the affidavit and then they’ll clear you.”

I can barely feel my face. I might notgo? After all this, I might not go? “Well, can we just change it to married and then deal with the problem when I get back?”

“Too late,” Rosemary says. “It’s a big deal when you sign your name to false information on that type of official document. At this point, you need to prove that the information is correct.” She gives me the address for the New York County Supreme Court. It closes at 4:30.

“I’m on it,” I say.

“Report back right away. We need to know that you can do this. If you can’t get it straightened out, there’s no sense…”

No sense in even rehearsing with the company.She doesn’t need to finish the sentence. “I will get you that affidavit. I will do what it takes. And I’ll let you know how it goes every step of the way. This is getting fixed. You can tell Mr. Sevigny that, too.”

Thirty minutes ago, the worst problem in my life was my knee injury, whether to ice-heat-ice it or heat-ice-heat it.

And now all of my most cherished dreams are threatening to crumble.

Two

Francine

Not an hourlater I’m riding illegally in the passenger side of Noelle’s mail truck as we buzz down Canal Street. She insisted on coming and picking me up when I called. She wants to go with me to the county clerk.

“You really feel like you have pull with the county clerk?” I ask. “Just from being a letter carrier?”

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