Chapter 1

I envied my male coworker, Henry Smith, who was in his thirties and married, with a stay‑at‑home wife.

His wife handled all his daily chores, leaving him free to focus only on his job.

He was waited on hand and foot every day. Hot meals were ready when he got home, and his bath was drawn for him.

His kid would coo "Daddy" in that sweet little voice. He'd play with him for a few minutes and call it fatherhood.

He did no housework, no childcare; he lived like a college kid fresh out of school.

And me?

Every day after work, I came home to nothing but an empty 3,200‑square‑foot apartment.

I had always loved the idea of kids. Physically, that was the easy part. It was carving out a year for my body and career that kept me from doing it.

But I was at a critical point in my career. I was scared of the physical toll pregnancy would take and how it could set back my work, so I never dared to take that step.

Henry and I were competitors. In a fair fight, I would have taken him down without breaking a sweat.

But he had a full-time wife running his life, so it stopped being a fair fight. Now it was two against one.

We both had a hard day at work, yet he came home to far more comfort than I did.

That made me sick with envy.

I needed to get myself a wife, too.

I couldn't even imagine how good life would be if I had one.

*****

As soon as the idea of finding a wife popped into my head, I immediately signed up on a popular dating site.

The matchmaker was eager. Not long after I registered, she called to say she had set me up with a date that weekend.

That weekend, I did a full face of makeup, wore a camisole, and stepped into stilettos.

Blind date or not, I was going to look stunning and radiate confidence.

I arrived at the café the matchmaker had picked. She said she had lined up a few matches based on my preferences.

The first guy walked in, checked me out from head to toe, and said straight up, "If we end up together, I don't want my girl all dolled up and flashy. You gotta dress more low-key."

I rolled my eyes. He was getting way ahead of himself. I hadn't even said I can't stand stuffy, old-fashioned men.

The second guy showed up looking all dressed up. When he saw me, his eyes lit up. "If we get married, you won't have to work anymore. I'll take care of you."

I forced a smile and managed to ask, "So, how much do you make a month?"

He lifted his chin and said, "I make 3 thousand dollars a month, with full benefits and a pension. This is a great job. Most people can't get one like this.

"Once we're married, you can quit your job and stay home to take care of the kids. I'll be the breadwinner, and I'll give you 700 bucks a month for your expenses."

My smile nearly cracked. I was tempted to hurl my six-thousand-dollar heels straight at his face. The nerve of him.

The third guy looked like a real high-flyer.

We really clicked. Since we worked in similar industries, the conversation flowed.

Finally, we started talking about what the future might look like.

There was a glint in his eyes behind those glasses. "Ms. Sterling, you strike me as a woman of the new generation. How do you feel about modern financial arrangements?"

I replied, "I'm all ears."

"Would you be okay with going Dutch?"

Going Dutch? That meant I get a husband without having to pay for him?

I nodded happily.

He asked, "How do you feel about moving in together before tying the knot?"

So I got all the perks of a husband without the paperwork?

I nodded.

He said, "My mom says a lot of women these days have trouble getting pregnant for all sorts of reasons. Ms. Sterling, would you be okay with having a baby first, and then getting married?"

I smirked and shot back, "Mr. Smith, would you be okay with adopting a kid? Or being a stay-at-home husband, taking care of the house? I'll cover your salary."

He instantly turned red with anger. "I make 10 thousand dollars a month, and you want me to be a househusband? Do chores? And not have kids?"

He looked me up and down. "Even if you're pretty, if you're not going to give me kids, what's the point of marrying you?"

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I was looking for a wife, not some sucker. 10 thousand dollars a month? Was that supposed to be impressive?

He had no idea I earned five times that.

After the third guy left, I idly stirred my coffee, waiting for the fourth candidate to show up.

When the fourth guy walked in, I gave him a quick once-over. He looked decent enough.

This time, I cut to the chase and laid out my terms. "I can give you 3 thousand dollars a month as pocket money, plus extra for living expenses. You'd be a full-time househusband, handling all the chores. Can you handle that?"

His eyes sparkled. "Of course. I hate working. I'd much rather stay home all day. But I don't know how to do any housework, and if we end up together, we'll have to live with my folks."

My smile froze and shattered.

He kept going on and on, "My family doesn't own a place, so if we move in together, we'll have to stay at your place. Did you buy it or are you renting?"

I was looking for a wife, not some freeloader.

If he couldn't do chores, he was as useless as a screen door on a submarine.