Chapter Six

I asked, "How can I contact him?"

"You do not. He'll be standing by the door."

"When I got there, he was gone."

"Only to get something to eat. He is reading a book in the front room while the automobile is parked on the curb if you want to check. The housekeeper who earlier greeted you at the front door is also here."

"I see," Jo said, feeling a little relieved that she wasn't here alone herself with a stranger, even though she wasn't as uneasy about it as she may have been. "Okay. I'll probably remain and observe."

"Really good. This is the document. Please review it thoroughly before signing. There is nothing concealed in there, so read it slowly as necessary. You won't divulge anything that has been said here tonight, it simply states."

Jo made no effort. Since she had nothing to take, they were unable to take anything from her. She handed it back to Mrs. Bryant after turning to the final page and signing it.

"Well, we're done now. Regardless, tomorrow after I've gotten the go-ahead from Mr. Harrison, I'll phone you."

She and her spouse bid farewell after that and she was left alone to resolve things with her probable new phony husband.

He turned toward the cabinet and inquired, "Still don't want that drink?"

"Is there wine here?"

He said, opening the bottom of the cabinet to expose a cooler and a built-in wine rack on either side. "Red or white?"

"Red," she said, observing as he pulled out a bottle of merlot, popped the cork and gave it a chance to breathe before refilling his glass with wine from a decanter that appeared to be quite expensive.

He responded, "Scotch," as if she had spoken her query out loud.

Jo grinned and nodded knowingly, despite the fact that she had no idea what scotch tasted like or if she would like it.

"When did you first move to Eugene?" he asked.

"Not for long. Just a few days, maybe."

"How have you found it thus far?"

"Everyone seems to be friendly enough though some are not that much.

She remarked, "I assume that is like way everywhere, isn't it?"

"What might prompt a woman to visit an unknown home to inquire about a position for which she is wholly unqualified?"

"Desperations? Optimism? I'm not sure. Is this now some kind of psychological test?"

"You're asassin. That's funny, in my opinion."

She responded, "I don't know if that is good or bad for me here."

"Good. Very good, in my opinion."

He kept asking her personal questions and she kept responding for quite some time before he finally gave her the chance to ask some of her own. She had only one thought and was of one mind.

Do I now have the position?

"Yeah. I believe you do. You are the first person I really like after speaking with a number of others. I place a lot of importance on that."

"Once that's done, when do we begin?"

"Well, first of all, you need to sign various legal documents, such as the one stating that you won't tell anyone about our agreement. You agree to assume responsibility for any violations."

"I do have a follow-up query. How soon will I be paid?"

"Half in advance and half after the work is done. The initial payment will be made to you in the form of cheques and cash to assist you as you take care of any unfinished business, whether it be legal or illegal. When you embark, I anticipate you to be trouble-free."

"I don't think I can divorce my husband so easily," she said.

"No, but you assured me that he won't cause any trouble, so I'll take you at your word."

Jo nodded, hoping she was correct and he wouldn't cause any trouble. She would be well-provided for with this employment, and it was too valuable for him to blow it. Furthermore, Mr. Harrison wasn't ugly.

You'll be picked up in the morning to go to the Bryants' for you to sign the paperwork, and the car will transport you home tonight.

"Oh, good. I appreciate it so much, Mr. Harrison."

"Ah, absolutely. The additional item Actually, my name is Dale Wilson. People refer to me as King."

"King? King of what?" She questioned it, believing it was ludicrous.

"You'll learn it along the line, I'm sure. Are everything okay now?"

"Yes. Then, I'll see you or whoever it is in the morning."

"Really good. I appreciate you being here, Ms. Claybourne."

"Please, please, we're getting married. Dial Jo for me."

King grinned, clearly finding her remark amusing. The driver was waiting in the front room as they had promised, so he nodded knowingly and led her there.

Jo departed with a far more positive outlook on life than she had when she first arrived. Even though she still had a nagging suspicion that nothing would turn out as planned and she would end up in the same predicament as yesterday, all she could do was hold out hope.

She started cleaning the houseboat as she got back there. Nobody else would have been a better choice for Hank to clean his boat. She always cleaned things when she was nervous, and today was no exception.

She scrubbed down walls and polished cabinets for the remainder of the day to make the space shimmer.

She rearranged the silverware drawer once she had done rearranging the shelves and the tiny set of pots, pans, and plates. In addition, the lack of a television and the poor phone coverage left little to do. She noted that she should get some books. At the very least, she would have time to read throughout her stay here.

After some while, she fell asleep. Her libido was at a low point tonight. She didn't suffer dreams in which her estranged spouse killed her, nor did she dream of seafaring hotties.

Instead, she slept soundly and didn't wake up until the alarm went off loudly by the bed. When she woke up again, she jumped and pondered how long it would take her to adjust to her new existence. She jumped out of bed, took a shower, and changed, anxious to get things going. In all honesty, the thing that attracted her the most was obtaining the payment for her participation in this small game.

As he drew in, she turned to face the garden and walked out toward the waiting automobile. She passed behind Hank and shouted out while he was weeding furiously.

"Enjoy your day, Hank!"

"Oh, Jo. Sure. Thanks. Do you have any upcoming interviews?"

"Just an update today. I believe I've been hired. Please cross your fingers," she yelled to him.

He said, returning to his weeding, "I will do just that."

By eleven that morning, Jo had agreed to take on the role of Mrs. Harrison, a man whose real name was Dale "King" Wilson. Over the course of their conversations the previous evening, she had discovered a lot about him.

She had actually learnt a lot about things she could never have imagined and was still a little taken aback by some of them.

"I'm the vice president of the Sonys Fangs MC, a motorcycle club. Our president is looking to promote someone to succeed him because he is getting on in years. There's a dilemma, though, because I want to be that person."

"You need to be wed," she retorted.

"Yes. I require a wife."

"Why would you need to be married to join a motorcycle club? That intrigues me a little bit."

"Because this is a small community, it's crucial that we fit in. Our club must project a sense of family. By acting like some sort of wild gang of hoodlums out to violate their daughters or beat up the bored housewives who like to sneak into the clubs we visit, we can't afford to offend the locals. The president is obliged to portray himself as a happily married man who respects all of his members as his extended family, while single men are asked to maintain a low profile."

"Seems a little excessive, and five million? What a price to pay!"

"Yes, but money isn't everything. The job title is."

"Why?"

While pouring her another glass of wine and gazing intently into her face, he appeared to give this some thought. They had taken seats in the plush chairs with high backs that were located closer to the fireplace, where they could see the low flames of the gas insert.

He said, "Do you have family?"

"Not really, no. When I was a teenager, my mother passed away, and my father has been married again ever since shortly before that. Since years ago, we haven't actually spoken."

"No siblings? No children?"

"I am unable to have children, and I have no siblings. My inability to produce children, as I previously stated, was a major point of contention between my husband and myself and the beginning of our separation.It ended up being a blessing. It would have only served to bind me to a man who did not cherish me. He just cared that I would leave him heirs so that his parents would be satisfied."

"Did you wed him out of love or out of money?"

"What? Do you believe that I am a gold digger?"

"Honestly, I don't know you well enough to comment. I am aware that you are thinking about accepting a sizable payment from me to take the part."

She said, now feeling less cordial, "That's just disrespectful!"

"Avoid being insulted. I'm not trying to be rude. I've just been around people for a while, and I understand that everyone has various motivations for what they do. I don't criticize their decisions. I've personally made some f—-ing awful judgments."

"I wed him because I cherished him."

"If we reach a compromise, should I be worried that you would violate the conditions of our agreement in order to reconcile with him again?"

"No. That is done. I lost love for him in the years when I started to see just how cruel he could be because what's broken there can't be mended."

"How about a fresh romance? What if you find someone you want to spend time with but can't because you owe me a favor?"

"I won't. I've had enough for a lifetime; who wants a childless woman?"

"At least as far as being a rental wife is concerned, me. I have no desire for children, real or not."

"Then, I guess we are the ideal non-couple," she remarked, trying to hide her resentment.

"Does that suggest a deal has been reached?"