Fianceé for Hire

by Melinda Minx

  My stomach knots and tightens when I look at it. I could just stay like this. I could pretend that Jack’s half-brother Aldus doesn’t exist.

  But could I pretend that my own sister doesn’t exist? That she’s not in danger?

  No.

  I could wake Jack up and tell him everything. He doesn’t seem like the type to “play along,” though. If I tell him, I’d have to hope that he’d be willing to give me the ring--give Aldus the ring--and never say a word to him about it.

  If instead Jack decided to confront Aldus, Jane would be in danger. Even if Jack agreed to go along with me, if Aldus ever found out, he could come for Jane--and me--to get revenge.

  Aldus is rich and powerful. He owns half of Seattle. He’s unstable and sadistic enough to use his resources for petty revenge. I stare at the ring. I realize there’s only one real solution, and I realize I’m going to do it. I don’t have to feel good about it. I don’t feel good about it. My stomach is knotting up, and I feel like I’m about to vomit.

  But I’ve decided. I have to. I unwrap myself from Jack’s embrace, pull away from his warmth and into the cold aloneness. I realize as I pull away from him that I’m pulling away from him for good. I can never face him again after doing this.

  I roll out of bed, tiptoeing gently along the carpet.

  I realize then that I’m completely naked. As soon as I grab the ring, I need to leave.

  I get my clothes and go into the bathroom, gently shutting the door. I dress and run a comb through my knotted hair. I make sure I don’t look like total shit. I need to arouse as little suspicion as possible with the hotel staff. I already noted a back exit near the elevator. I can probably get out unseen.

  I turn off the bathroom light and step back into the room. I creep gently toward the bed. The ring is right beside me now, inches from my hand. All I have to do is grab it.

  I have to make sure he’s still sleeping. I lean down slightly, and then I whisper.

  “Jack?”

  He doesn’t move.

  “Jack? Are you awake?”

  Still no movement.

  My lip trembles, and tears stain my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jack,” I whisper. I grab the ring, clutch it into my fist and turn my back to him.

  I step toward the door, open it as quietly as I can, and exit into the harsh fluorescent hallway light.

  I don’t even have to knock on Aldus’s door. It opens as I approach.

  “I saw you coming,” he says.

  Every passing minute has made me feel guiltier and guiltier. Just because I had the best sex of my life with him doesn’t make Jack the perfect man. If I thought he was perfect, then I could have trusted him with the truth. I could have trusted him not to confront Aldus.

  No...not perfect. He just had the potential to be the best man I’ve ever met. The best man I’ve ever betrayed and thrown away.

  “Give it to me,” he says.

  “How do you know I have it?”

  “Why else would you be here?” he asks.

  I pull the ring out of my pocket and clutch it in my fist. “You swear you’ll leave Jane alone?”

  “I want nothing more than to be rid of her,” he says. “But I must warn you, she’s tried to run from me before. She always comes back. Give me the ring.”

  I extend my hand and open it. He snatches the ring out of my palm and examines it.

  “Good girl,” he says.

  I shudder. His tone of voice has completely changed from distant coldness to warm admiration. This must be the same voice he used to break my sister.

  “You have everything already,” I say, pointing to his luxurious view of the Seattle skyline, through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “Why do you care about this ring?”

  “Jack took everything from me,” Aldus says, scowling down at me. “So now I take everything from him.”

  I consider saying that Jack is a fucking lumberjack who is ecstatic over winning just $10,000. How can he have taken everything? From my point of view, it’s Aldus who has everything. But I hold my tongue. There’s no reason to anger Aldus, or to make him angrier at Jack. The best thing I can do is fade from Aldus’s memory as quickly as I can, and hope that this ring is the last thing he needs to take from Jack.

  “So we’re done?” I ask. “If I hear that you so much as looked at Jane across the street, I will--”

  “There’s nothing you can do to me, girl,” Aldus says. “It’s like I said, Jane has never stayed away from me. I’ll let her know I’m dumping her tomorrow morning. She’ll be heartbroken, and then she’ll come crawling back to me. I recommend you keep her away. Far away.”

  Four Years Later. Anchorage, Alaska.

  I watch Jane help Noah into the little plastic sled. He’s all bundled up in a thick blue coat, and his Aunt Jane is smiling and laughing as she loads him into the sled.

  Noah leans back into the sled and crosses his arms as if he’s a mummy.

  “Ready?” Jane asks.

  He nods, and she pushes him gently down the little hill. His sled glides across the snow. It’s a shallow incline, but Noah laughs loudly as he cruises down the hill.

  When his sled glides to a halt, he jumps up and out, giggling and flapping his arms.

  “Again! Again!” he shouts, running up the hill toward Jane.

  I get up from the bench and go toward his sled. “You forgot your sled, sweetie!”

  He’s too excited to even hear me. When he reaches the top of the hill again, he suddenly realizes he needs the sled. He looks down and sees me already bringing it up for him.

  “Mom! Watch! Watch!”

  “I saw,” I say, grinning.

  “He was so fast,” Jane says, “and so cool.”

  Noah furrows his brow at Jane. “I wanna go faster!”

  Jane and I give each other a look. It’s probably not a good idea to make a three-year old go too fast.

  “Maybe a little faster,” Jane says, pinching her thumb and index finger together.

  I nod. “I’ll do it.”

  We load Noah into the sled together, and I bend down and grab the back of his sled. “Ready?”

  “Go! Go!” Noah shouts.

  I get a bit of a running start at the top of the hill, and just before I let go, I give him an extra bit of a shove. The sled speeds down at first, and Noah cheers, throwing his hands up.

  I feel a wave of panic hit me, and the sled starts to spin.

  It turns 90 degrees to the right, and then Noah’s weight tips it over. He rolls out into the snow and slides a few feet before coming to a stop.

  I didn’t even realize I started to run, but I’m at his side only seconds after he stops moving.

  But then Noah pops up, jumping to his feet and laughing like a maniac.

  “Yeah!” he says, looking up at me with a huge smile. “Again! Again!”

  This time he remembers to grab the sled, and he rushes up the hill.

  We teach him to give himself his own running start, as Jane and I are both exhausted already. We sit down on the bench and watch Noah go up and down the hill. After his “crash,” he’s started to intentionally spin the sled so that he slides out onto the snow every time.

  “Watch! I’m a penguin!” he shouts toward us.

  He’s growing up so fast. I wish his Dad could see him.

  Work on Monday is fairly hectic. I work as a receptionist at an urgent care clinic, and more people tend to get hurt on Monday. It’s like they were resting all weekend and saving up their energy to go out and get injured on the way to work.

  By lunch, I’m completely wiped out. We fortunately get a full hour lunch break, so I head over to a deli and bring my laptop with me.

  When I sit down, I notice there is a big wall with flyers and posters of upcoming events. Fishing competitions, dogsled races, and--

  My chest tightens up and freezes.

  I’ve been thinking more and more about Jack in the past months. As Noah is getting older, he resembles his father more and more.
He has those same stunning blue eyes, and when he’s not listening to me, he gets the same mischievous grin.

  I’ve worked really hard to put Jack out of my mind. I’ve never even considered contacting him. My previous worries about Aldus going after Jane again are nothing compared to the thought of what that man would do if he found out Jack had a son. So long as Aldus wants to take everything away from Jack, Jack can’t know that Noah exists.

  The weight of that choice weighs heavier on me every day. Is it really my choice to make? What right do I have to deny Jack the knowledge that he has a son? But every time I think things through like this, I realize that if he’s the man I think he is, he’d agree with my choice. A true man would do anything to protect his son, even if it meant never knowing he existed.

  I find myself Googling the lumberjack competition.

  I scan through the brackets, seeing who is going to enter. The chances are low, but--

  I see his name. Jack Renshaw.

  “Fuck,” I whisper.

  Without even thinking, I click on his name and a profile comes up.

  His picture is right there. That face I haven’t seen in four years looks eerily familiar. It looks like a face I see every day, my own son’s face. He’s going to be here in...I look up at the poster again.

  Next weekend. He will be here next weekend.

  I should get Noah and Jane, and we should leave town for the weekend. I can’t risk him seeing me.

  7

  Jack

  I get off the plane in Alaska. It’s the first time I’ve been here. The grand finals last year were in Vermont. Third fucking place. Vermont is dead to me. The place is cursed.

  Nah, no east coast Atlantic bullshit for me. I need some good Pacific coast terrain if I want the grand prize. Alaska may be thousands of miles north of Oregon, but it’s still West Coast.

  If you’d have asked me five years ago if competitive lumberjacking would become my career, I’d have laughed in your face.

  But it pays well, and shit, I like it. I’m good at chopping down trees, but you don’t exactly get much recognition for that in commercial lumberjacking. Sure, Hutch and Sawyer respect me for it, and Jack Ornsley knew I was a reliable and hard-working guy. But nothing compares to crowds of people cheering as you smash a fucking axe-throwing record for $15,000.

  Now the grand finals for this year have brought me to Alaska, a place I never otherwise would have visited.

  The cab takes me from the airport toward my hotel.

  The airport is in the city more or less, but the mountains surrounding it are something else. The nature just feels big. The city seems big for Alaska, but it’s dwarfed by the majestic fucking mountains and nature surrounding it on all sides. The crystal clear lakes and bright snow look somehow bluer and whiter than they do down in Oregon.

  I shake my head in approval. Yeah, this is where I’m going to become the grand champion.

  I still remember my first competition. I put my hand to my chest, where the ring used to be.

  Elisabeth. Whatever I had seen in her eyes, I should have looked harder. She conned me. She must have seen the ring earlier. The jewels in it were worth more than the gold; I’m sure she got some serious cash pawning it. The only thing I had left from my father, and she just pawned it off.

  I checked the pawn shops all around Seattle--taking an extra week off from work--but I never saw it. Now that empty feeling by my chest reminds me of my father, and also of how stupid I was. It reminds me not to think with my dick.

  I grind my teeth together. The thing is, I wasn’t just thinking with my dick. I mean, sure, she was hot as fuck. And sure, I wanted to get my dick in her, but it was more than that. I wanted her in more ways than just that, and I hadn’t felt that with a woman in a long time. I haven’t felt it since then, either.

  Too bad it was all fake. It’s probably best if I just think with my dick. My heart should stay far away from women. I can’t trust it. Yeah, that’s the answer, I’ll just let my dick lead the way.

  Sometimes I tell myself that she maybe had a good reason. Maybe she really needed the money. She didn’t seem like she was strung out on anything, but shit, I would have helped her if she’d asked. As much as I could have, at least.

  I check into my hotel, drop all my shit down onto the floor by the bed, and crank up the heater.

  I consider taking a shower, but decide that I’ll do it later. I want to go check out Anchorage a bit. I’ll take a shower when I get back in.

  It’s colder than in Oregon, but Anchorage doesn’t get that cold compared to other parts of Alaska. At least down in the city. My regular coat, a scarf, and a beanie do the job.

  I see people doing fucking Segway tours. It seems like a convenient way to get around, but is it worth looking like such a dumbass?

  Nah, I’ll use my two feet and my boots. That’s the best way to see a new city. I feel suddenly hungry, and I duck into one of the first restaurants I see. They have a lot of fish listed on the menu board outside, and I’ve been wanting to try Alaskan seafood.

  It’s the kind of place where you order at the counter--not fancy--and when I look up from the menu at the woman ready to take my order, my jaw drops open.

  It looks like--but it’s not--Elisabeth. I see her, though, in the lines of the woman’s face, in the way her eyebrows raise at me, but it’s definitely not her.

  She looks at me almost the same way, tilting her head a bit as she looks me over.

  “Sorry,” she mutters, “you just look like--”

  “Someone you know?” I interrupt.

  “Yeah,” she says.

  “I was going to say the same thing to you,” I say, looking at her closer. “Do you...have a sister?”

  She bites her lip, and her eyes widen.

  “Was that too forward?” I ask. “I didn’t mean to--”

  “No,” she says. “It’s fine.” She waves a hand. “I don’t have a sister. You’re new in town, right? I’ve never seen you around.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I’m here for the lumberjack competition.”

  She nods.

  “I’ll have the blackened salmon,” I say, pointing at the menu. “With a beer.”

  She hits a few buttons on the register, then smiles up at me. “Gotcha! How long are you in town for?”

  “Just the weekend,” I say. “Leaving Sunday.”

  Her face scrunches up, then she says, “Maybe I’ll check out the competition.”

  I squint at her again. She really looks like Elisabeth.

  “You’re sure you don’t have a sister?” I ask.

  She laughs nervously. “Uh, unless she’s, like, my long-lost sister my parents never told me about.”

  “I can get you a discount on the tickets,” I say. “What’s your name?”

  “A discount?” she asks. “I have to pay to go there?”

  “Of course,” I say. “This is an exciting and high-skill competition. We’re all professionals.”

  “My name’s Jane,” she says. “Jane Murphy.”

  “I’ll get you on the list,” I say.

  8

  Elisabeth

  I wake Jane and Noah up early in the morning on Friday. We’re all set to go skiing. That’s the excuse, anyway. The real reason is that we are putting 70 miles between me and Jack. Between Noah and Jack. The bags are packed, and--

  “Fuck--” Jane wails.

  Noah looks up at her. She winces and clutches her stomach. “I mean, Crap--er--shoot!”

  She doubles over, her hands still on her stomach.

  “Jane, what’s--”

  She shoves past me and rushes toward the bathroom.

  “Aunt Jane’s gotta poop,” Noah says. “Number two.”

  I look at him, confused.

  “Maybe diarrhea,” he says, smiling.

  I give her some space, not wanting to hear her diarrhea through the door. I take Noah with me into the living room, where all our bags are packed and ready.

  If Jan
e is sick, then I can’t drag her on a ski trip. I could just take Noah...but who would look after Jane?

  She finally walks out into the living room. She’s not walking in a straight line, and she looks awful.

  “I think I’ll be okay,” Jane says. “Let’s get the bags into the--”

  I swat her hand away from the bags. “Are you kidding? You’re not going skiing.”

  “But Noah is so excited…” she says, her voice hoarse.

  “You’re okay going skiing another time, right Noah?” I ask.

  He wasn’t actually going to ski, just sled.

  Noah bites his lip, his eyes widening. “We can’t go?”

  “Aunt Jane is very sick,” I say. “We both have to take care of her.”

  Noah nods.

  I help Jane back into bed, and I start to unpack all the bags. I’ll just have to be careful. If I’m locked up in the house taking care of Jane, then what are the chances I’d run into Jack?

  Jane is in and out of the bathroom all day, and she falls asleep for the night early, around 5 p.m.

  Noah is extra fussy because I’m not able to spend as much time playing with him, and he hasn’t been able to go outside at all. He’s been doing a good job of not throwing tantrums, because he knows Jane is sick. It’s still a lot to ask of a three-year-old, and as soon as Jane falls asleep, I take him out to play for a while. Even though it's already dark.

  I end up falling asleep myself at around 9 p.m.

  Jane wakes me up in the morning. She’s smiling wide and looks totally fine.

  “You’re better?” I ask.

  She nods enthusiastically. “Totally better!”

  “We could still go skiing,” I say. “We just--”

  “Oh, come on,” she says. “We’re not packing all that stuff up again. I have a surprise for you, anyway.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “How did you set up a surprise when you were so sick?”

  “I woke up at like 4 a.m,” she says. “I guess all the extra sleep helped me recover.”