Page 22 of Help Wanted: Wife

They laughed.

Hope filled their glasses, and Don Juan carried in the food, a platter of a variety of bite-sized, savory morsels, and, with an exaggerated flourish, set it on the table. “Lunch is served. Save room for dessert,” he said and left.

“Larth has ordered an android,” Prudence commented. “Right now, the two of us can bake enough for the cozi, but when the new shop opens, if business booms the way we hope it will, we won’t be able to keep up.” She held up crossed fingers. “We need business to boom to pay back the loan for the android. They aren’t cheap.” They couldn’t afford a robot, but they couldn’t afford not to have one, either. She’d been reviewing the financials on their DataDrive.

They dug into their meal. “This is delicious,” Prudence exclaimed.

Hope leaned close and whispered, “Be sure to mention you enjoy it to Don Juan. He loves it when we praise his cooking.”

“He does?” Was the robot sentient?

“Don Juan is a great chef, and he adapts recipes to my human tastes,” Hope explained in her regular tone. “The only thing he’s been unable to replicate is coffee. I miss it. Caradonia has nothing remotely similar.” She sighed dramatically.

“Ask and you shall receive! I can get you some. We’ll have a café in the bakery. I’m importing coffee from Terra Nova.” She’d placed an order for a hundred kilos of beans. They’d be arriving on the ship with the next group of Cosmic Mates brides.

Hope grinned. “Thank you! I can’t wait! Coffee will be a big hit with all the human women.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.” Importing coffee would be expensive, but they were taking a calculated risk it would pay off by drawing human women, who would bring their husbands who would buy baked goods and spread the word.

Having worked at Flour Power since graduation, she’d always taken her steady paycheck for granted. Until she’d become involved in the decision-making, she hadn’t understood the risk involved in operating a business, how much one had to invest in a venture before turning a profit.

She forked another seasoned, savory tidbit into her mouth. She hoped their android could bake as well as Don Juan cooked. Working round the clock, it could produce way more than she and Larth could—forSala’sBakery. She sipped her orange-colored “mimosa.” Fruity, bubbly. A decent facsimile, but still an imitation of the real thing. Like her marriage.

She set down the glass. “What if Larth never gets over her death?”

“Who says he’s not over it?”

“He’s not. He’s naming the bakery after her.”

“Wasn’t it her idea? He’s paying tribute to her.”

“Exactly.”

“What if it had been his mother’s idea, and he named it after her?”

“That’s different.”

Hope widened her eyes. “Are you jealous?”

Stars help her, she was. And she felt ashamed for her growing resentment.The woman lost her life.Of course, he would grieve. But she couldn’t escape the hunch she could never win in a competition with a dead woman. It didn’t bother her that Sala had been hisfirstlove; she feared she would be hislast.

“I’m the other woman in this marriage.”

“No, no you’re not. Other than the business name, what has he done that makes you believe he’s still in love with her?”

She shrugged. How could she explain it wasn’t anything he’d done or said or how he acted. “Just a feeling I have.”

Hope’s eyebrows pulled downward. “Pru, Larth isn’t William. Have you considered you may betransferring your insecurities from that relationship to this one?”

“William’s betrayal did undermine my confidence, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” Ironically, she’d never had any doubt about William’s fidelity. As a result, she’d been completely blindsided.

“Are you falling in love with him?”

“No…maybe… Icould—if not for the situation.”

Don Juan entered and cleared their dirty plates. “Lunch was excellent, thank you,” Hope said.

“Delicious,” Pru agreed. “Absolutely wonderful.”

---