Fianceé for Hire

by Melinda Minx

  Jane smiles. “Nice ear.”

  How two-faced is this guy? He was a robot to me. Totally not willing to talk, claims he doesn’t like music, and the moment Jane comes back downstairs to join him, he’s a fucking Renaissance man.

  “I go in cycles,” Brody says. “With jazz, I mean. Sometimes it’s literally all I listen to for weeks or months at a time, but then I find myself listening to German electronic stuff. It’s like all those warm, jazzy tones burn me out, and then I need something colder and industrial to cleanse my palate.”

  He looks at me as he speaks, daring me to say something.

  I stay quiet. I don’t know what game he’s playing, but I don’t want to be involved in it. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s pissing me off. Though I do want him to know that I can see through him, that I know he’s full of shit.

  Jack announces that the food is ready, and we all help set the table. Everyone but Brody. He just bobs his head and taps his feet while the rest of us help.

  Once we all sit down, Brody stays seated, and just before I nearly slap him upside the head, he smiles and takes out his phone. “Let me take a nice family photo. I’m sure no one will mind if I’m not in it.”

  He winks at me.

  I sure as fuck won’t mind.

  Jack puts an arm around me, and then hoists Noah up onto his lap. Jane stands behind us.

  “Three, two, one,” Brody says. “Cheese!”

  He looks at his phone, then gives a thumbs up. “I’ll send it to Jane, she can send it to everyone else.”

  “Come sit down with us, Brody,” Jane says. “You’ve gotta be hungry.”

  “Sure am,” he says, pocketing his phone and sitting down next to Jane.

  “Is Brody my uncle?” Noah asks.

  I feel my face drain of color. That would be a nightmare.

  “No,” Jack says, laughing. “Not yet, at least.”

  He gives me a knowing look, which lets me know he’s just as worried about Brody and Jane as I am. Now that Jane has sought treatment for her alcoholism and been sober for four years, it doesn’t mean that her taste in men has improved. I’d always assumed that the shitty guys she ended up with went hand in hand with her addiction, but Brody is showing me that it might be worse than that. Maybe the root cause of her addiction is also the root cause of her gravitating toward total scumbags?

  I help Noah out by cutting his food for him. We all try the mole-covered chicken-stuffed peppers. The first thing I taste is a nice, earthy freshness from the sauce. Then the crunch of the peppers hits me, and then I taste the nicely seared chicken. As I chew, the complexity of all 30-plus ingredients Jack threw into the sauce starts to become apparent. I can taste some of the herbs, I can taste the sweet bite of the dark chocolate, and finally the heat from the pepper hits my tongue.

  As if speaking for me, Jane says, still not quite done chewing, “Damn!--I mean, darn--this is good!”

  “Is damn a bad word?” Noah asks.

  Jack laughs, but then covers his mouth.

  “Yes, sweetie,” I say. “Aunt Jane didn’t mean to say it.”

  “I thought so,” he says. “This sauce tastes funny.”

  “Do you like it?” Jack asks.

  “I don’t know...maybe.”

  “You want some nice cheddar cheese on it?”

  Noah looks at me.

  “Yes,” I say. “He likes cheddar.”

  Jack goes to the kitchen and grabs a block of cheddar. He grates it over top of Noah’s plate. “Tell me when.”

  Noah smiles as the yellow cheese covers his plate, melting slightly as it hits the hot sauce. I decide for him, telling Jack when it’s enough.

  Noah takes another bite, and he smiles this time. His pepper is a green bell pepper rather than a poblano.

  “Just like Taco Bell, huh, kid?” Brody says, grinning.

  Jane elbows him. “Brody…”

  “It’s cool,” Jack says. “I know what he means, kids love Taco Bell.”

  We finish eating, and to my huge, massive relief, Brody says, “We don’t want to linger, we can get out of your hair. Really amazing meal, Jack, I’d ask you to teach me the recipe, but I don’t cook!”

  Jake shakes his hand, and he grabs his coat.

  I consider--briefly--politely inviting them to have dessert and hang out after I put Noah to sleep. I’m just too afraid that Brody will actually agree to the offer, so I let them bail.

  “Nice meeting you, Elisabeth,” Brody says.

  He reaches a hand out to shake mine. “I’ll get Jane to send those photos to you!”

  I let go of his hand, and he crouches down for Noah.

  It’s not like Noah has paid any attention to him, but that apparently won’t stop Brody.

  “See ya, little bro!” Brody says, and Noah runs behind Jack, grabbing hold of his leg.

  “Say bye,” Jane says, tapping Noah on the shoulder.

  “Bye,” Noah says.

  The two of them get their coats and scarves on, and finally they disappear into the night.

  Jack and I both let out huge sighs as soon as the door is shut.

  “Do you--?” I start to say to Jack, but he interrupts.

  “Yes,” Jack says. “That guy is a mess.”

  “He doesn’t clean his room?” Noah asks.

  “No,” I say. “That would be ‘messy,’ messy people don’t clean their rooms.”

  “Oh,” Noah says.

  That answer thankfully allows me to dodge Noah’s question entirely, and Noah luckily doesn’t seem interested enough in Brody to ask me any more questions.

  Jack and I work together to get Noah ready for bed, and once he’s in bed, we collapse together on the couch.

  “I hate to know that Jane is out there, alone with that guy. It’s like Aldus all over again.”

  “Do you think Jane really even seemed into him?” Jack asks me. “I feel like it will fizzle out on its own.”

  “God,” I say, “I hope so.”

  19

  Jack

  I spend almost the entire morning and afternoon with a lawyer. I get him to draft up a contract. The contract that I’ll show Aldus and offer to sign. The one that will hand my old legacy over to him. Noah is my new legacy--more valuable than my father’s entire fortune. Aldus can take the company and the money, and die lonely with it. I have my family, and that’s all I need.

  “This is as close as I can get it,” the lawyer says, “without consulting with your brother’s lawyers.”

  “Half-brother,” I say.

  He smiles and hands me the leather binder. “I’ll send you an electronic copy, as well.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “Send me the bill, too.”

  “I’m a lawyer,” he says. “Of course I will.”

  I’m planning on going to see Elisabeth and Noah briefly before I leave. My flight is at 6 a.m., so I need to leave for the airport around 3 a.m. Before I do all that, I need to pack my shit and mentally prepare myself for a meeting with Aldus. Worst of all, I have to call him to propose the meeting in the first place.

  My flight is already booked, and whether he likes it or not, this meeting will happen. Still, it will be a lot easier if I can get him to agree to it.

  When I get back to my hotel, I pack all my stuff. It’s not a lot of stuff, so it doesn’t take long. Then I grab my phone and call him. I’ve run this conversation over and over in my head for the past three days. There’s nothing left to prepare for. Just do it.

  “My lawyers tell me not to talk to you under any circumstance,” Aldus says. “I expected you to call after I got my ring back, but now? Why would you call now?”

  Got his ring back. Stole it.

  “I want to settle,” I say.

  He laughs. “Settle? You think I’d give you anything--”

  “No,” I say. “I don’t think you would. I’ve drafted up a contract. It hands everything over to you. It also prevents me from suing you again in the future.”


  “After all these years…” he says, “you’ll just give up?”

  “Yep.”

  “I need to see the defeat in your eyes when you sign,” he says. “Come to--”

  “I’ll be there tomorrow,” I say.

  We hang up.

  Alright. That wasn’t as bad as I thought. He gloated just as much as I expected. In theory, I could have just sent the contract to his lawyers and made him sign, but I know Aldus well enough to know he’d want to see the crushing defeat and surrender on my face--in person.

  It’s 9 p.m. I can go over to Elisabeth’s for a few hours before--

  My phone vibrates in my hand; I haven’t even put it down yet. My first instinct is that it’s Aldus, calling back with some other condition to add onto my surrender.

  But then I look at the screen. It’s Jane.

  Without even answering, I know it can’t be good.

  “Yeah?” I answer. “You with Elisabeth?”

  “He dumped me! That motherfucker! I’ll never trust a guy named Brody, or Chad, or Fuckface! They’re all fucking fuckfaces, those…”

  Her voice is slurring so bad I can barely make out what she’s saying. She keeps rambling, and I wonder if she even remembers that she’s talking to me specifically, or if I’m just a random ear to complain to. She’s too drunk to call her sister, so she calls me.

  “You said,” I say, cutting her off and talking over her, “that you weren’t going to drink anymore.”

  “Fuck, Jack!” she shouts. “That was before my ass got dumped! Now I’m only drinking because of that, not because I couldn’t not drink, if I didn’t--didn’t--uh, not want to, you know?”

  “Where are you?” I ask.

  I need to go get her, I realize. Based on what Elisabeth told me, Jane will just keep drinking if someone doesn’t stop her. The fact that she can still kind of form coherent sentences means she’s not too far gone yet.

  “You gonna come hang out with me?” she asks. “Just don’t tell Elisabeth, she’ll ruin all the fun.”

  “I won’t bring Elisabeth,” I say. “Where are you?”

  I won’t bring Elisabeth, but I’m definitely going to tell her.

  “It’s called Squirrel’s Point Pub,” she mumbles. “Specials on apple cider tonight...if you’re too lame to drink hard stuff with me.”

  “On the way,” I say.

  I get to the pub, and I spot Jane drinking with some old dude. He frowns at me as I approach.

  “I got her covered, buddy,” he says. “I’ll cover your tab, too, if you leave us alone.”

  He looks me up and down, his eyes widening at my arms and chest. He’s worried I’m going to take the drunk and defenseless woman away from him, and he knows I could if I wanted to.

  My eyes turn stone-cold. Furious. “She’s my sister, you shit! Now fuck off.”

  He jolts out of his chair and scurries away, not even bringing his drink with him.

  Jane cackles, but then frowns down at her empty glass. “Oh...he was buying my drinks. Now you’ll have to pay, Mr. $100,000. Well, you probably spent some of it, huh, Mr. ninety-nine-hundred…”

  She squints at me, struggling to figure out what number is lower than one hundred thousand.

  “Jane,” I say, leaning closer in toward her. “Brody was a douchebag.”

  “God!” she shouts. “I know!”

  “No,” I say. “I mean you shouldn’t drink over him. If he dumped you, that means you’re good, right? A guy like that dumping you should make you feel good about yourself.”

  She pouts at me, then glares. “You know what he said, when he dumped me?”

  “Who cares what he said--”

  “He told me I was a useless drunk fuck-up,” she says. “And now look at me. He was right.”

  “Let me get you out of here,” I say. “We can--”

  “No!” she says. “I already started! If I drink until I black out, it’s the same as if I stopped now. I’ll feel just as shitty in the morning, and it will be just as hard to get back on track.”

  “If it’s all the same,” I say, “then let’s leave now.”

  “Wrong!” she says, grabbing the old dude’s whiskey and chugging it down. “It’s more fun to at least see this night through.”

  “I’ll call Elisabeth if you don’t leave with me,” I say.

  I don’t want to threaten her like that, but I also don’t want to have to sling her over my shoulder and drag her out of here.

  She stares me down, seething with anger. “You fucker…”

  “Let’s go,” I say, standing up. “Come on.”

  She stares longingly toward the bar, then pouts at me. “Fine.”

  She starts to stomp toward the door, but she stumbles. I grab hold of her and stabilize her, and I grab her arm and drag her toward the door, making sure she doesn’t fall flat on her face.

  I call a cab, and we stand out in the cold in front of the bar waiting for it to pull up.

  “I don’t even feel the cold,” she says. “Or any of the pain. I wish I could feel like this from time to time without completely diving off the wagon.”

  I take off my coat and give it to her. “You don’t feel the cold,” I say, “but it’s still there, seeping the life out of you.”

  “Wow,” she says. “You’re seriously no fun, Jack.”

  “You’re not exactly a bucket of laughs right now either, Jane.”

  “You gotta catch me when I first start drinking,” she says. “You missed fun Jane by about an hour. That’s the best part of drinking...when you first start. When you convince yourself you’re just going to have one or two.”

  The cab rolls up.

  “Where we going anyway? I can’t let Elisabeth see me.”

  “I have a flight to catch,” I say. “You can have my hotel to yourself tonight. You gotta check out by 11 a.m.”

  “Okay,” she says, yawning.

  I help her into the cab, and she passes out as soon as the car starts to move.

  We reach the hotel, and I have to hold her by the arm and waist just to keep her on her feet. She stumbles through the lobby into the elevator, and finally I get her into the room.

  She stumbles on her own toward the nearest of the two beds, and she just crashes face first into the pillow. I’m sure as hell not touching her and undressing her or anything like that, but I do pull her shoes off and set them by the bed. I pull all the blankets and sheets off the bed she’s not using, and I lay them over top of her. She may not feel the cold, but she’ll definitely get cold.

  I get all my stuff gathered up, and I set the alarm for 10 a.m. Then, just before I leave, I write a note.

  Jane,

  I’ll be in Seattle all day tomorrow, and then I’m coming back the next day. When I come back, I’m telling Elisabeth what happened. You have two days to tell her yourself. Let us help you.

  -Jack

  I stick the note to the inside of the door so that she won’t miss it.

  Then I open up the mini-bar, and I gather all the little bottles of liquor into a garbage bag. I take them with me out into the hallway, and I throw them away into a garbage can by the ice machine.

  I get out my phone and call Elisabeth.

  “You still coming tonight?” she asks.

  “Uh,” I say. “You cool if I don’t?”

  “Noah wanted to see you, but he’s asleep already.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to see me?” she asks.

  I sigh. “I want to see you, but I’ll be face to face with Aldus in less than 12 hours. I’m exhausted, and I need to keep my mind clear.”

  “I get it,” she says. “I’ll let you sleep.”

  I consider telling her that I’m just going to go straight to the airport, but I figure it doesn’t matter either way. I don’t think she knows how early my flight is.

  I hope that Jane will go talk to her tomorrow. I really don’t want to have to rat Jane out, but she’s left me with little choice.

  �
�I love you, Elisabeth,” I say.

  It’s the first time I’ve said it, but it just slips right out of my mouth.

  I’m met with silence. Should I not have said it? Too early?

  “I…” her voice is breaking up. “I love you, too, Jack.”

  I grin wide, like a maniac. Not too early. Shit, she’s--

  She’s hung up.

  I laugh. Well, now I’ve really got something to look forward to when I come back.

  20

  Elisabeth

  Noah wakes me up around 5:30 in the morning.

  “Mom? Where’s Jane?”

  He’s used to Jane being here. Ever since she started dating Brody, she’s been out late most nights, and gone others.

  “She’s having a sleepover with Brody,” I say.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “He’ll be back in a few days,” I say.

  Noah looks up at me with big eyes. “Oh.”

  “Do...you wanna go see him?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he says.

  I get him into the car, and I start driving to the hotel. I call him on the way--realizing that I don’t even know when his flight is. Unless it’s super early, I can catch him when he’s waking up. It will be good to at least say goodbye to him. His phone goes straight to voicemail. He might be on the plane, I realize, or maybe his phone just died.

  I bring Noah into the lobby, and I go to the front desk. “Good morning, I’m looking for Jack Renshaw’s room.”

  “I can call him,” she says, “but I can’t give you his room number.”

  “I already called his cell,” I say, “and it’s dead. Can you at least tell me if he’s checked out already?”

  She purses her lips and hits some buttons on the keyboard. “Mmm, she says, no...he hasn’t checked out.”

  She hits more buttons, and confusion fills her face.

  “Why do you look confused?” I ask, leaning in.

  She flashes a big fake smile and laughs nervously. “I can call his room for you, ma’am, and all I can tell you is that he has not checked out.”

  “You know something, don’t you?” I ask.

  “Is that his son?” she whispers to me.