Page 1 of Help Wanted: Wife

Chapter One

The young man stood up. “When can I expect to hear if I get the job?”

“I can’t give you a date,” Larth said. “I still have candidates to interview, but when I’m done, everyone will receive notification.”But it won’t be you.

The man sauntered out of the bakery booth and left thecozi.

Adar, the fabric vendor, motioned to his spouse to cover their stall and scooted over. “Well? How did it go?”

He shook his head.

Adar winced in sympathy. “What was wrong with him?”

“He had no baking experience, demanded greater wages than I can afford to pay, and arrived an hour late.” Tardiness alone had knocked him out of the running.

“Anyone an hour late to a job interview won’t be on time to work,” Adar agreed.

“I’m getting worried. I have to get help soon.” He sighed. “I’ve put a deposit on a third-floor shop. It’s the highest-level place I’ve found that’s affordable, and they’ll only hold it for another two months.”

“When does your cozi lease expire?”

“At the same time! My three years are up in two months.”

Adar clucked his tongue in sympathy. “So, staying here isn’t an option.”

“No.”

Relocating from the subsidized open marketplace to a real shop wasn’t about generating a better profit but to honor his late wife. The bakery had been Sala’s idea, and he couldn’t let her dream wither and die. Their business was all he had left of her. If it failed, it would be like losing her all over again.

She had loved baking. The recipes for breads, cakes, muffins, and sweet rolls were hers. Together, they had applied for and received a booth in one of the new cozis established by Governor-General Krogan. Caradonia Opportunity Incubator Zones enabled small businesses to gain a foothold and develop a client base. Paying nominal rent for booth space, operators were given three years to build their business before they had to move out to give other start-ups a chance.

A year after opening the bakery, a nano-virus brought from another planet had infected all females of childbearing age. Half of the afflicted had died right away; the others had been rushed into stasis pods to slow the progression of the disease until a cure could be developed.

Thirteen months ago, Sala had succumbed to the disease—a mere two months before an effective treatment had become available. The loss had hit him hard. If not for the bakery, some days he might not have gotten out of bed, might have given up. But while he hadn’t been able to save her, he could save her dream.

“The situation is getting serious. I can’t bake, man the booth, train a new hire, and set up the shop by myself. I’m running out of time.” Couples could divide up the tasks. One could be baking while the other tended the booth or dealt with other business. When he needed to leave, he had to close up the booth and lost sales. He glanced at the fabric vendor’s spouse tending to a customer.

“What about the human woman who comes by? She’s manned your booth before. Didn’t you say she was a baker on Terra Nova? Can’t you hire her?”

“Hope filled in as a favor. She’s not available full-time or part-time. She’s married to Governor-General Krogan. She’s tied up with government receptions and charity events. Besides, she just announced she’s pregnant. When the baby’s born, she’ll have her hands full. Plus, she’s leaving soon for Terra Nova to attend a friend’s wedding.”

Adar stroked his chin. “Maybethat’swhat you need.”

“What?”

“A human wife.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’ll never remarry.” Since the pandemic, there weren’t enough women for all the men seeking spouses, but the lack of females wasn’t why he would never fall in love. Caradonian, human—didn’t matter. He’d met and lost the one great love of his life. There were no second chances for that kind of love. Just thinking about another woman in that way made him feel disloyal. Before Sala went into stasis, he’d promised her there would never be another woman. No one could take her place in his heart.

“It doesn’t have to be for love. I mean, it would be great if that happened, but marriage can be a business arrangement.”

“No—”

Adar raised his hand. “Hear me out.” The man meant well, but his wife had gotten the treatment in time and survived. Coming to work where other vendors worked side by side with their spouses rubbed salt in a still-open wound. Another bonus about moving from the cozi would be that he’d no longer have to stare at happy couples all day.

“My brother found a human bride through Cosmic Mates,” Adar continued. “And he picked his own! He said you don’t have to let the program match you; you can put in a request for a certain type of woman. You could request a wife who wishes to work in a bakery.”

Talk about a half-baked idea! “I doubt the program is intended to be used as an employment agency. It’s a matchmaking service. The women are seeking love, not jobs. I’ll never fall in love again. Any woman would feel cheated.”

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