Men For Hire (16 page)

She chuckled. Just like with her and Rob, some of the people she hired out ended up falling in love with their employers. That had been an unexpected consequence of her business!

Then her smile faded. At least the others were having sex. Here was she with a husband and she couldn’t get him to do that most basic of husbandly tasks, being incredibly busy as he was working as a doctor at one of the big London hospitals.

Jennifer sighed. It was amazing that they had ever had time to date; although the wedding had been a spur-of-the-moment decision while on holiday in Las Vegas. These days he was just too tired when he came home from work to do more than mumble goodnight and fall into bed. He was fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, while she remained wide awake wearing whatever sexy nightie she’d tried to tempt him with that night.

She was getting very frustrated. Besides which, she missed the intimacy, the times when they had curled up together on the sofa watching a film, gently caressing each other, hands fondling, sometimes more arousing until they ended up making love right then and there.

Almost without thinking, she found herself rubbing her pelvic area. Her laugh turned derisive and she raised her hand before her assistant came in. Instead, she leaned forward clutching her head in both hands in despair. “Maybe I should hire him to give me sex!”

Jennifer’s eyes widened, and she suddenly sat upright as an idea came to her. She smoothed down her tangled chestnut brown hair.

“That isn’t a bad idea, even if I do say so myself.”

She ruminated on it all afternoon, and on some occasions pulled a new job form toward her, and then hurriedly pushed it away again.

Finally, the day came to an end. It had been a long, tiring day, emotionally, if not necessarily physically.

At 5:58 p.m. just as she was reaching for her bag she suddenly threw it down again to grab the form and fill it in before she changed her mind.

Name and address of client:
Mrs. J Fletcher, Glebe House, Rosevine Road, Raynes Park, SW20.

She might run her Men for Hire agency under her maiden name, but it was her married persona that needed help.

Job required: …

Jennifer paused, tapping her pen against her lips as she considered what to put down and then continued to write…

Job required:
Marital duties.

When will this job commence?:
Straight away.

Oh yes.
In fact, immediately!

How long with this job last for?:
Until it is completed.

Where will the job take place?:
At the above address, preferably, but not limited to, the bedroom.

Jennifer chuckled remembering some of the places they had made love. Just none of them recently. She sighed and continued.

Will the client be in residence during the period of work?:
Most definitely.

Is there a particular employee you would prefer to undertake these duties?:
Yes, Mr. R Fletcher, of the above address, email below.

In the event of this employee not being available will you consider an alternative?

She stopped and made a face. “Well, in the event of Mr. Fletcher refusing his husbandly duties I will consider divorce and then I may well need an alternative.” Laughing at her joke, Jennifer mused—but not someone from her firm as she wasn’t running an escort agency.

Jennifer signed the sheet with a flourish and put her pen down, chuckling. Shaking her head at the imp that had got into her, she stood up and walked out. There would be time in the morning to throw the sheet away, but for now she felt a sense of satisfaction.

* * * *

When she arrived at work the next day, her first task was to take the job form and put it in the shredder. Only the form wasn’t where she had left it!

“Gemma,’ she called out to her assistant. “Where’s the new job form I left on my desk last night?”

A voice shouted from the other room, “I saw it there this morning so I typed it up and emailed out the request. I have to say, I worry about any marriage where the wife has to pay her husband for sex!”

Jennifer’s jaw dropped.

Oh shit!

Gemma stuck her fair curly head around the corner. She had a big grin on her face. “I thought we weren’t selling sex at this agency. Ha-ha!! I’d love to have seen that man’s face when he reads his email. We’ve had some funny requests lately, but that one’s the best.”

The phone rang in the other room and before Jennifer got the chance to berate her, Gemma left the room. Her assistant was on a three-month trial and Jennifer wasn’t sure it was working out, but she knew she could hardly tell her off for something that was actually her own fault.

She stood there debating whether to phone her husband and tell him it was all a joke or send him a text. Or would he actually be in his office? Chances are he would never see the email.

“There’s an urgent call,” shouted Gemma.

Jennifer jumped.

Dammit! He’s read it already.
How dare he read his emails?
Her heart beat furiously as she picked up the receiver, her hand shaking as she furiously thought how she could get out of that one.

She deliberately put on her professional voice. “Hello, Jennifer Archer speaking. How may I help you?”

Thankfully, it was a client instead and she breathed a huge sigh of relief, slumping back into her seat. Her calmness didn’t last long. The man they had hired for this customer had not turned up and a torrent of abuse came down the phone. Mrs. Glenn had four dogs that needed walking. Quite why she didn’t do it herself, Jennifer had no idea. The woman wasn’t housebound or anything like that. But that was the nature of her business.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Glenn. I’ll sort something out. Yes, I’ll get on to it immediately.”

She put the phone down and yelled for Gemma to bring in the list of available men.

Jennifer never got the chance to contact her husband that day.

Chapter Two

R
ob relaxed into his office chair and dipped his digestive biscuit into his mug of tea, quickly eating the soggy morsel before it dropped into his drink. Leaning his head back against the headrest he closed his eyes. He didn’t often get a chance to sit down without any interruptions and do paperwork. Not that he particularly liked doing paperwork, it was just nice to have some peace and quiet. He loved his job, but it had become very stressful lately, and he was looking forward to the nice break that he’d just booked off. He nodded his head to himself and a dark curl fell forward. He pushed it out of the way, irritated, glad that he’d have the opportunity to get it cut now.

Jennifer would be very surprised at his decision to book a holiday. Usually, she had to persuade him. He hoped she’d be able to take some leave as well, although he knew how busy her firm kept her.

His computer bleeped and he frowned. Clicking on his inbox he saw that he had a mountain of emails to answer and sighed deeply. Just as he was about to close it down, one caught his eye. It was from Jennifer’s Men for Hire firm.

“Why would Jennifer be emailing me?” She tended to text or phone him if she needed to speak to him.

Intrigued he clicked on the email.

Dear Mr. Fletcher

Men for Hire has been commissioned by Mrs. J Fletcher of Glebe House, Rosevine Road. She is in need of someone to undertake a job at the above address and has requested you.

What job? And why on earth would she request him to do anything at their home when she was perfectly capable of any task around the house—more so than him. He winced knowing DIY was not his forte. He could put his hand to cooking and gardening but rarely had the time. He glanced at the screen once more.

Please see attached job description. If you are willing to accept this job contract, then complete the attached form and return it. The client requests that you arrive at the address stated no later than 7 p.m.

He was puzzled and opened the attachment. His eyes went immediately to the ‘job required.’

Marital duties!

Staring at the words, Rob couldn’t believe what he was reading.

“What the hell is she playing at?”

Rob sat back and re-read the email, which he swiftly realized had come from her new assistant, Gemma. Someone he had yet to meet.

Was this intended as a joke? Did she mean sex?

He knew that Jennifer’s firm was asked to provide people for a whole range of jobs, some more mundane than others, and that it was extremely successful. But he also knew that she had to make it clear she wasn’t running a brothel, despite some clients trying to book her ‘men’ for sexual duties.

So why had she broken her rule and sent him this? The more he thought about it, the more amused he was, knowing exactly what marital duties Jennifer was referring to—she was desperate for sex. He had just been so tired lately that he couldn’t get it up.

“Okay, so this must be a ploy to get me to talk to her. I can do that.”

He reached for the phone to ring her mobile. It went to voicemail. Tapping his phone against his lips, Rob pondered his next move and decided to phone the agency’s reception.

“Men for Hire agency, Gemma speaking. How may I help you?”

“May I speak to Jennifer, please?”

“I’m afraid she is out on urgent business at the moment. Can I assist in any way?”

He made a face. If her plan was to get him to talk to her, it wasn’t working.

“Umm. My name is Mr. Fletcher. I’ve just seen your email.”

“What email is that?” There was a pause as Gemma clearly checked her computer to ascertain which job he referred to. “Oh, yes. The one I sent first thing this morning.” The assistant seemed to be struggling not to laugh and Rob became even more convinced that he was the butt of their joke and wasn’t best pleased after the day he’d had.

About to snap at the girl to tell his wife that he’d talk to her when they got home, he didn’t get a chance to say anything when Gemma continued with a giggle. “Your wife must be very lonely to have requested our services.”

Rob was taken aback.

Your wife … our services?

“It’s not often we get requests of this sort and usually we turn them down.”

He was even more confused.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“She must have given the form to the owner of the firm directly. I’m afraid I didn’t see or speak to your wife—Mrs. Fletcher. But I saw her job request form on Jennifer’s desk this morning before she arrived and so I typed it up and sent it to you.”

Comprehension dawned and Rob started to relax, sitting back in his chair, a slight smile on his face. He guessed that Jennifer had completed the form for her own satisfaction, not intending it to be seen by anyone else. It now made perfect sense.

Rob started to chuckle, then something else occurred to him.
Why didn’t Jennifer phone me after she had discovered the form had been emailed?
Or maybe the ‘business’ she was attending to was more urgent than he thought.

“I was rather hoping Jennifer—Ms. Archer—would be in touch to give me more details about what the job entails. Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Oh, Mr. Fletcher. I’m afraid she’s been dealing with an emergency at a client’s house.”

“Never mind. I’ll talk to her later.”

Gemma giggled. “But isn’t it obvious, Mr. Fletcher?”

Rob straightened up in his chair. “I beg your pardon?”

“What the job entails. Your wife clearly wants—oh, I’m not allowed to say. Well, let’s call it ‘husbandly duties’—the sort that a man agrees to when he gets married.”

“You mean, sex.” He wasn’t afraid to say.

He got a burst of loud girlish laughter in his ear, held the phone away for a moment, and wondered how Jennifer could stand her.

“Yes, but I don’t know why we took this job. We’re not an escort agency.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “For heaven’s sake, don’t tell anyone.”

Rob raised his eyebrows. “So, Gemma, what do you suggest I do?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, someone has just come through the door. Do phone again. I’m dying to know how this job turns out.”

Dropping the receiver back on the handset, Rob sighed. “I’ll bet you’re curious, little madam.” He would have to have words with Jennifer about her latest assistant. In the meantime, what was he going to do about the ridiculous job his wife had requested he undertake? He was annoyed that her silly little assistant was now party to the fact that they hardly ever had sex. Not that she seemed to be aware that Jennifer was ‘Mrs. Fletcher.’

He rested his elbows on the desk as he considered this—and how to get his own back on his wife. His eyes alighted on the remaining biscuits and that gave him an idea.

Okay, my love. I’m going to play you at your own game. I’ll do ‘husbandly tasks’ for you—just not the sort you think
.