ISO:SWF

Chapter 1

Kali sat at the table, looking out the window while twirling a strand of platinum blonde hair around her index finger. She stopped twirling and turned her attention to the newspaper on the table in front of her, slowly unfolding it to the classified section.

"Well, Thompson... time to look for a job," she muttered to herself as she began to read. "Waitress... nope. Cashier... nope. There's got to be something."

She kept scanning.

"There it is," she breathed, reading the ad.

Help wanted: Couple in search of live-in nurse. Must be registered. Job entails helping care for 6 children and tending to terminally ill wife. Living quarters provided by the employer. Salary based on experience. If interested, send your resume to the newspaper quoting file number 6592.

"It's perfect. Like it was made for me," Kali said, pleased. "Solves both my home and job issues."

She quickly grabbed her phone and emailed her resume to the paper, making sure to quote the file number. As she hit send, her thoughts slipped back to how she'd lost everything in the blink of an eye. Falling in love with Ryan Duncan had been the biggest mistake of her life. He was Dr. Duncan's son — Dr. Duncan, her boss, the man who had hired her right out of medical school. It had been her dream job... until Ryan ruined it.

Saying yes to dinner with him had been the first of many mistakes. Believing every lying word out of his mouth had been another. Forgiving him after walking in on him sleeping with one of her older sisters — another. The red flags had been everywhere.

But the final blow came when he proposed to one of her younger sisters. In front of everyone.

That had been the last straw.

She had run — from the job she loved, from the home she'd shared with him for five years. The cheating bastard would never get the chance to lie to her again. As for her sister... she was dead to her.

Kali glanced back at the newspaper and continued reading, chuckling when she reached the personals.

ISOSWF — must love kids and dogs. Send picture and introduction letter to file 8874. Serious inquiries only. Thank you.

"Wow. I can't believe the lengths some people will go to," she laughed — then realized her phone was ringing.

She answered quickly. "Hello... yes, this is Kali... yes, I did... I would definitely be interested in an interview... I'm available anytime. Yes, I can be there in twenty minutes."

She hung up, folded the paper neatly, and set it aside for the next reader. Getting to her feet, she slipped her phone into the back pocket of her blue jeans and grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair. She tossed five dollars on the table to cover her unfinished coffee and headed out of the café.

Pulling out her keys, she walked to her gold dune beetle and climbed in. She set the GPS to the address she'd been given and pulled away from the curb. Nineteen minutes later, she slowly rolled up to a gate blocking the driveway of a large two-story brick home with an attached five-car garage. She took a deep breath, lowered her window, and pressed the button on the security intercom.

It buzzed loudly — then a deep, masculine voice answered.

"Can I help you?"

Kali cleared her throat. "I'm here for an interview. My name's Kali Thompson."

"Right on time," the voice replied, and the gates opened. "Please proceed to the front door."

She rolled the window back up and drove forward, parking off to the side. Flipping down the sun visor, she checked her hair in the mirror.

"Not perfect — but it'll do," she sighed, closing the visor and stepping out of the car.

She made her way up the steps and raised her hand to knock — just as the door swung open.

Standing there was one of the greatest professional wrestlers of the time — Joe Jacobs. Six-foot-three, tanned skin, dark hair, brown eyes. She stared at him for a moment, taking in the way his chest muscles strained against his black t-shirt. He gave her a polite smile and stepped aside.

"Please, come in."

Kali walked into the foyer. A little face peeked around the corner of the room to the left, so she smiled and gave a small wave. Joe closed the door, then cleared his throat.

"Please follow me," he said, all business, and headed into the room to the right.

Kali slipped off her Nike running shoes and followed. A fireplace dominated the far wall. A large bay window overlooked the front yard. To the left were closed red-oak sliding doors. The only furniture was a red-oak desk set parallel to the window, a black leather executive chair behind it, and two deep-cushioned black chairs in front.

Joe moved behind the desk and gestured to one of the chairs. Kali sat on the edge, crossing her legs at the ankles and placing her sweaty hands on her jean-clad knees. Joe picked up a piece of paper from the desk, scanning it briefly before looking up.

"Bachelor's degree in pre-medicine. Graduated top of your class from Harvard. Worked for Dr. Duncan for the past five years, completing residency and fellowship specializing in family medicine and pediatrics." He set the paper down and looked at her. "Impressive."

"Yes, sir," she replied, nervous, fingers digging into her knees.

Joe gave a small, teasing smile. "There's no reason to be nervous. I won't bite."

Kali released the breath she'd been holding as he stood and walked around the desk to the chair beside her.

"May I?" he asked.

Her cheeks warmed. "Yes?"

He shifted the chair slightly so he could face her. She turned toward him in response.

"I'm intrigued," he said. "Why aren't you working in a practice or hospital?"

She looked down. "I don't have a state license. I completed my board certification and was going to apply... but then things happened. Life got in the way."

Joe rubbed his goatee. "You do realize you're overqualified for the position."

"I figured." She stood abruptly. "Sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Jacobs. I'll see myself out."

He rose quickly. "Miss Thompson — please don't leave. Not yet."

Kali stopped in the doorway. She wiped away a tear before turning back to him.

"I'd like to offer you the job," he said gently, "but there are a couple of people I'd like you to meet first."

"Okay," she said softly.

Joe walked to the sliding doors and opened one side, nodding for her to follow. Kali stepped beside him and took in the room — white walls, the faint smell of disinfectant, the steady beep of a heart monitor, the sigh of a ventilator. In the center of the room lay a single hospital bed. A pale woman with brown hair slept peacefully in it.

Joe walked forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

He looked back at Kali.

"This is my wife, Rachel."