Page 1 of Fiancé for Hire

ChapterOne

“You need a man.”

Antika Wilcox snorted at her best friend’s words and placed the pot roast and potatoes in the center of the glass kitchen table.

“Been there. Done that. It didn’t end well—remember? Now, grab that salad so that we can eat.”

She and Tamera had been friends since kindergarten and had dinner together once a week, usually on the weekend. It was a rare occasion that Antika wasn’t traveling for work. But recently, her travel schedule had been cut back, and no one was more thrilled than her.

“I’m serious about you needing a man,” Tamera said, circling back to the conversation as she set the glass bowl of tossed salad on the table. “Now that you and ol’ what’s-his-name have parted ways, you need a date for my birthday party. It’s the big 4-0, and I’m doing itbig. So I don’t want my best friend to be there by herself, not having a good time.”

Inwardly, Antika cringed. She was so sick of men, especially since she couldn’t seem to pick a good one. Her heart had been crushed one too many times, and she couldn’t put herself back out there again. She’d rather be alone than keep putting up with the crap that the male species dished out.

It all started nineteen years ago when she was twenty and married her college sweetheart.Bigmistake. Patrick-The-Wimp—the name that Tamera had given him—ended up dumping her for his friend’s sister.

Two years…

For two years of marriage, Antika had put up with his arrogance, his selfishness, and she had even tolerated his controlling nature. They’d been too young to get married, but back then, she thought she was in love. He was the big man on campus, and he had chosen her to be his woman.

In the end, the emotional pain he’d caused, combined with his betrayal, had broken something inside of her.

Even now, Antika felt sick thinking about that time in her life. Little had she known that adulting was a lot harder than she had counted on. Combine that with a self-absorbed husband who didn’t know how to love her—or just didn’t give a damn—and it was a recipe for divorce.

Of course, when she was twenty-two and made it to the WNBA, Patrick came crawling back, telling her that he’d been a fool to ever let her go. He wanted them to try again. Before they got married, they both imagined her as a WNBA superstar, living large and being in the public’s eye. Patrick had wanted the potential lifestyle more for himself than for her.

So when he came back around when she entered the league, Antika literally laughed in his face. Playing professional basketball—her dream job—would’ve been sweet revenge against him. Unfortunately, she tore her ACL at the end of her first season.

That was the end of her professional basketball career.

Since then, she managed to attract one loser after another, and she was done. If it meant being single for the rest of her life to keep her sanity, so be it. That was precisely what she planned to do.

“I don’t need—nor do I want—a date,” she said as she loaded her plate with food. “Oh, shoot, let me open a bottle of wine. How about a cabernet sauvignon?”

“I’d never say no to any type of wine. Why do you think I come over here so much for dinner? You always have the best vino.”

As a district manager for Bottle Brigade Wine & Spirits distributor, Antika knew her wines and her collection was impressive, if she said so herself. She’d been with the company for fifteen years and had honed her palate after tasting hundreds of different wines.

“I have an idea for your man problem,” Tamera said as she accepted the glass of wine, and Antika set the bottle on the table.

“I don’t have a man problem, but I’m starting to have a best friend problem.”

Tamera laughed. “Whatever. Hear me out. I heard about this company where you can hire men for anything from changing a light bulb to fixing your plumbing. I’m talking about kitchen/bathroom plumbing—not the euphemism for sexing you up.”

Antika sputtered a laugh, causing some of her wine to dribble down her chin. She continued chuckling as she dabbed at her face with a napkin.

“I’m serious,” Tamera continued. “If you need an escort, someone to be your plus-one at parties, or even pretend to be your boyfriend or your husband, this organization promises to have everything you need.”

Antika shook her head as her friend pulled up the company’s website on her cell phone and handed it to Antika.

Copperplate script lettering across the top of the screen read At Your Service. The website was tastefully done in bold colors and appeared straightforward and businesslike. Scanning the content, she had to admit that it was an interesting concept, but she didn’t see what the men they employed looked like.

The website also informed readers that anyone interested in utilizing their services would have to fill out the company’s detailed questionnaire and then visit their office for a face-to-face in-depth interview.

Antika placed the phone down next to her friend’s plate. “No,” she said simply. “I would never go through a service to find a man.”

Nevermight’ve been a strong word, but in this case, Antika knew there was no way she’d hire an escort.

And why should she? She didn’t need a man.

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