Page 23 of Help Wanted: Wife

The light atop his head brightened.

“Prepare for the pièce de resistance,” he said.

He’d left the room with their plates before his comment registered. “He speaks French?”

“When he learned I was from Terra Nova, he taught himself all the Earth languages,” Hope said.

“Voila! Dessert!” Don Juan returned with two plates, each containing a slice of what looked like a chocolate torte dripping with fudge icing and sprinkled with dark chocolate shavings.

Hope beamed at him. “My favorite. Don Juan likes to surprise me with Terra Nova-type desserts. Cocoa doesn’t grow on Caradonia, but he found a tree sap with a taste almost indistinguishable.”

Remembering the “mimosas,” Pru lowered her expectations and forked a bit of the cake into her mouth. Rich, chocolatey perfection. “Oh my god. It’s perfect. This is death by chocolate.”

“Stop! Don’t eat that!” Don Juan knocked the fork from her hand and snatched the plates off the table. The light atop his head turned red.

Prudence gaped at him.

“No, no! Don Juan. It’s okay. It’s not dangerous!” Hope said. “Death by chocolate is an expression. It means she really enjoys the dessert.”

“It’s excellent,” Prudence quickly added. “Perfectly safe. Please give me the plate back.”

“I will bring you another fork.” He gave them the tortes and picked up the fallen utensil. “Your idioms are confusing.”

“Yes, they are. My apologies,” Prudence said.

He brought her a clean fork, two cups of tea to go with the dessert, and they resumed eating. She was again struck by how good her friend had it. “This must be like eating at a restaurant every night.”

“Except for when the chef-waiter knocks the fork from the diner’s hand.” Hope giggled. “He’s super protective. Sorry about that.”

“It’s very sweet of him to be so protective. I’m sorry I triggered him.”

“Not your fault. You’d assumed an android would be predictable. Just when I think I know what to expect, he surprises me. I like that about him. He has his own quirky personality.” Hope rubbed her belly again, as if caressing her unborn child.

She envied her friend’s happy life. She had a man who loved her and a little girl on the way. There would be no babies for Pru. Not out of this marriage anyway. She would never bring a child into a doomed marriage. Fortunately, she still had a birth control implant. She’d planned to remove it after she and William got married but then forgot about it when he jilted her. Dejected again, she stared down at her plate.

“Pru…” Hope covered her hand. “You have a year to work things out. You’re not even into the marriage two weeks. You started out as strangers—now you’re business partners, friends, and lovers. Give it time—and keep doing what you’re doing.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Remember, when I married Krogan and things weren’t going well, you told me sex could help bring two people together.”

“That was you. This is me.” She laughed despite herself.

Paradoxically, while sex had forged a deeper bond, it also had revealed the chasm between what they had and what she desired. Hope had asked if she was falling in love. Unfortunately, she feared she was—with a man who was still in love with his late wife.

What if this was all they ever had? Could she settle for that? Could she stand playing second fiddle to a dead woman? Would Larth even choose to continue their marriage at the end of the provisional year?

Chapter Eleven

“Keep your eyes closed. No peeking,” Larth said.

“I’m not!”

Hands on her shoulders, he guided Prudence off the vaporator. He couldn’t wait to show off the bakery. She’d seen the earlier stages, but not the completion with all the finishing touches. Everything was ready for the grand opening in a week. The shop had turned out even better than he’d envisioned, and he owed it all to her. Many ideas implemented had been hers, and he could not have supervised the construction, done the baking for the stall, and manned the booth without her. Alone, he would have been in over his head.

The door slid open, and the aroma of fresh bread wafted out. The biggest surprise—the android—was hidden in the kitchen, but he hoped Pru would be just as thrilled with how the café turned out. He squeezed her shoulders. “Okay, open your eyes.”

Her gaze shot upward to the SALA’S BAKERY sign, which had gone up yesterday.This is all for you, Sala. I promised you a bakery.His chest tightenedwith a double dose of guilt. Sometimes he felt like he was betraying her by being with Prudence. Other times, he felt like he was letting Prudence down. Technically, they were married, but theirs was a business arrangement—except for the camaraderie, support, conversation, humor, and sex. But didn’t co-workers, business partners sometimes sleep together? He’d heard of that happening.

“Smells like somebody’s been baking.” She smiled at him.

“Wait,” he said. That was the big surprise—to be revealed shortly.

---