Page 4 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

I stare at the letters, heart racing.Benny.

I can see him in my mind’s eye like it was yesterday. His sandy, wavy hair puffed up on one side from frenetically running his fingers through it. His intense gaze through too-huge-for-his-face glasses—said intensity coming, more often than not, from his high level of annoyance at me. I imagine him grabbing a sheaf of papers off the pit table with his angular, uncoordinated movements, more gangly than graceful. And those lips—so expressive and beautiful, even if they were usually in a frown.

“What do you think?” the clerk asks.

“There’s gotta be some mistake,” I say.

“Does that look like your signature?” he asks.

“It looks like my signature,” I say.

“Do you know Benjamin Stearnes?”

I can feel my cheeks heat with shame like they always do when I think about Benny. I can feel Noelle’s gaze boring into the side of my face.

“Do you know who that is, Francine?” she asks.

“Well, Iknewhim,” I say. “But I don’t remember marrying him. I think I would have remembered. There would have been a wedding. Flowers. A dress, preferably a decent gown—”

“Did you two date or anything like that?” she asks before I elaborate further.

“No, not really.”

She narrows her eyes. “Not really?”

She wants more but I don’t know if I can give it. I have no idea how to characterize what Benny and I were. “We worked together. We were more like work frenemies than anything.”

“Look,” the clerk says. “I can’t give you a notarized affidavit of single status until I have proof that this marriage is invalid. And I’m sorry, but I honestly don’t see anything that suggests to me that this is not a currently valid legal document.”

“I need my affidavit of single status for some overseas travel ASAP,” I plead.

“Then you’ll need proof that this document is invalid,” the clerk says. “My suggestion would be divorce papers. Download some divorce papers and track this guy down to sign ’em. You show me that and I’ll give you your affidavit.”

“How long will that take?” I ask.

“It’s something I can turn around right here, but getting a judge to sign off on your divorce decree, if that’s the way you go, it could be a few weeks. Assuming there are no disputes.”

“Benny…probably isn’t my biggest fan,” I whisper as I watch my world crumble.

“Don’t be crazy. Everyone loves you.” Noelle pulls on my sleeve. “Come on.”

“Not that I would even know where tofindhim…” I continue.

Somebody grumbles behind us. I’m aware of Noelle and the clerk exchanging glances.

“Come on, let’s figure this out while he takes the next person.” She pulls me out of the large, now stuffy-feeling room. We sit in plastic molded chairs out in the hallway. I’m staring at the paper, mystified.

“Look, this still works,” Noelle says. “We know how to fix this. You have to find him right away and get that signature, and then we hope for a judge who can clear it right away. It can happen!”

“I only have a month,” I say, “or they’ll use another second soloist!”

“There’s no reason it can’t happen,” she says. “Right?” She gives me a little hug. I’m sure it feels like hugging a large mummy from her end.

Benjamin Stearnes?

“This is doable!” she says. Sweet Noelle. Always so positive. It was her positive thinking that completely saved our building from demolition.

But she doesn’t know Benny.

---