Page 2 of Ruthless Vows

What will Miss May think of me?

Will she see the desperation lurking beneath my carefully composed exterior?

I don’t want her to see I’m desperate, but I need this job so bad.

The door clicks behind me, signaling someone’s arrival.

I sit up straighter, every muscle tensing in anticipation.

This is it—time to prove you’ve got what it takes.

“Miss Hawthorne, I presume?” The voice is smooth, almost melodic, as it breaks the silence. I turn to see her—a stunning woman with tall, long black hair and bangs, dressed impeccably in a tailored business suit. Miss May.

“Yes, that’s me,” I reply, offering a small smile. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Let’s get started, shall we?” She gestures to the seat across from me, her eyes assessing me with keen interest.

As she sits down, I can’t help but wonder if she sees potential or just another lost soul trying to find a way out.

“Absolutely,” I say, straightening my posture.

Here goes nothing.

“Tell me, Miss Hawthorne, what do you know about our agency?” Miss May asks, her gaze piercing through my facade.

“Well,” I start, trying to keep my voice steady, “I know it’s called Wife for Hire. You match women with men who require a wife for . . . various reasons, and in return, the women receive a substantial financial reward.”

“Good. Seems like you’ve done a bit of homework,” she says, leaning back slightly in her chair. “And how did you come across us?”

“Through a friend,” I reply, my mind immediately conjuring Esme’s bright smile. “Esme Lockwood. She worked here before.”

“Ah, yes, Esme. A delightful girl,” Miss May nods, a flash of recognition in her eyes. “She was matched a few years ago. Unfortunately, the marriage didn’t last, and now she’s back with me, looking for a new match.”

“Yeah, that’s part of the reason I wanted to have an interview with you. For someone who ended up having a divorce, she trusted you enough to come back, and that speaks volumes to me.” I confirm. “But, she told me it was a good job. Had lots of benefits, and the cash was great.”

“Esme is right about that,” Miss May acknowledges, folding her hands on the table. “Our arrangements are designed to be mutually beneficial. The women get financial security, and the men get what they need—whether that's companionship, social standing, or something else entirely.”

“Sounds like a win-win situation,” I say, hoping my enthusiasm doesn’t sound too forced.

“Indeed,” she replies, her eyes never leaving mine. “And you’re interested because...”

“Because I need this,” I answer honestly. “I have no other option at the moment. And if it’s worked out for Esme before, I’m hoping it will work out for me too.”

“Understandable,” Miss May says, offering a sympathetic smile. “A lot of women come to us when they find themselves with limited choices. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Thank you,” I say, feeling a small weight lift off my shoulders. Maybe this isn’t as daunting as I thought.

“Stassi, there is no need to thank me,” Miss May says softly. Her eyes soften as she watches me, a flicker of empathy breaking through her otherwise stoic demeanor. “I’m here to help. My agency—I founded it after my own marriage failed. I wanted to offer women like me another option in a safe way. Unlike my competition, I vet the men who request to use our services.”

Her words hang in the air, resonating with a truth that makes my chest tighten.

I glance down at my hands, fingers interlaced tightly on my lap.

This isn’t just about money—it’s about reclaiming my life from the shadow of my father’s control.

“Do you think . . .” I hesitate, then force myself to look back up at her. “Do you think I’m a good candidate for this?”

Miss May leans back slightly, appraising me with those sharp, discerning eyes of hers. “You certainly have potential, Stassi. Your reasons are valid, and you seem like you’d be a good fit. But I never make decisions at the time of the interview. These sorts of decisions aren’t ones I make lightly.”

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