Chapter 1

It was over and Jenny knew it. There was nothing more she could do, she thought as she unloaded the pickup for the umpteenth time. She had gotten there late today. Normally she tried to get to the flea market early on the Friday evening before the flea market opened. She would have her pickup piled with what she wanted to sell; tried to be the first in line and slept in the pickup that night in order to get the best spot in the drive in theatre for the best spot when it opened on Saturday morning.

Jenny liked to get in the second row open to vendors. It was close to the concessions and bathrooms, but not too close. Once in, she could set up the racks, tables and tents to display what she had for sale.

She and her husband had lost their jobs when the junior college had to cut back. Even though they both had tenure, the decision had been made to cut her husband's job teaching metal fabrication and hers of teaching home economics. Both were vanishing skills that were being replaced by animation, marketing, Photoshop and even Spanish.

They had been advised by their lawyer to just quit paying the mortgage and stay there until they were forced out. Jenny had been taking everything they had to the flea market to get what she could for it. There were all kinds of furniture, china, silverware, electronics and many family heirlooms and treasures. They still had the one full size pickup and a camper. This may have to be their home and there was no room for much more. With what they had saved from the sale of their belongings, they could get some kind of mobile home, but there was no way to tell how long their savings would have to last.

Jenny hung the last of her and her husband's best clothes on a rod, and pinned her grandmother's huge silk tablecloth with gold lace embroidery on it. It had come from Austria with her great grandparents. She had no place for it.

A tall black man came by. He had been buying a number of things from her each week. He had been polite but distant. She had recognized him but decided not to make an issue of it. She knew he was Sam Conrad, who had retired a few years ago from the local NFL team. He had several restaurants now, but lived a good portion of time somewhere else.

"That is one of the nicest tablecloths I have ever seen" he said as he squinted and shielded his eyes as he looked into the sun trying to get a good view of the embroidery along the edges.

"It's from Austria. It's at least a hundred fifty years old." She told him, trying not to sound too attached to it. If she talked too much, she knew she couldn't sell it.

"Why would you sell something like this?" he asked.

"My husband and I have lost our jobs and our home is being foreclosed." She said, trying to sound as unemotional as she could. "Nobody gives a fuck about their life. Nobody wants to hear your problems." She thought."

Jenny was startled when he gave her twice as much as she had posted on the price tag. "Here's the money and here's my card. If you and your husband need a job, let me know. You may have to move, but that's all I can do." He said as he took the clothes pins off of the tent that held the tablecloth to it.

Jenny was stunned. She had asked less than half of what she thought it was worth, because everybody was such a vicious bargainer. "What kind of jobs do you have?" she asked.

"You are a fantastic looking woman for somebody your age. I don't care what your skills are. You have taken the initiative to make the best you can of your situation. Personally I would like to fuck you. I don't expect you will take me up on it, but I have nothing to lose by being honest with you. If you want the job, I am sure we can come up with something you can do."

Jenny was stunned by the avalanche of words she was not ready for. There were so many ideas she had been hit with, she couldn't speak. "Thanks for the card." Was the most she could come up with. Jenny was crushed by the thought she was even rolling the idea around in her mind. How could she even think of such a thing?

When she got home that evening, her husband Joe was still on the computer. He had applied to everything he could think of on Craigslist and the government website. Jenny had been on it the night before. It seemed useless. Their unemployment had run out. It was killing her for the two of them to be raiding their retirement accounts, but with their two girls in college, they needed money.

"You meet some of the vilest creatures at the flea market. The one I met today topped them all." She said as she put the meat loaf and scalloped potatoes on the table. "What happened?" Joe asked, thinking somebody tried to pinch her on the butt or breast.

"This guy gave me a bunch of money for our tablecloth, but he more or less said he would give us a job if he could fuck me for it." Joe was quiet. Jenny expected something soothing; some way he would imply he would have killed the man if he had been there. Still more silence.

"What kind of job was it?" he asked without looking up. Jenny was stunned. "What was he saying?" she wondered. Was he implying the offer should be considered? They finished their supper in silence. "What the fuck's going on Joe? Are you saying we should consider it?"

"Well what are our choices? Do you want to spend the rest of the year sleeping on the back of that pickup? How are we going to pay for the girls' college? Do we want to take them out of school? What kind of job did he say it was and how much is the pay?"

Jenny felt she had been slapped in the face with a leather barber's razor strap. He was actually considering it. She almost vomited.

Her husband held the business card in his hand. "Well I'm curious what this is all about anyway." He said. Jenny was awake all night. Joe went to bed, but she couldn't sleep and watched the news all night. In the morning, she changed into her sweat clothes and took a long walk. She thought it might clear her head. "I'm not going to think about it. I'm just going to call him before I have time to think about it." She said as she dialed the number.

"Sam, I'm making this call to see what you really meant at the flea market the other day. Yes I can come down to your office. I'm taking a walk right now. Can you text me the address? Yes I'll be there in a couple of hours. Yes; I can bring my husband. O.K. thanks. Bye." And she hung up. She texted her husband that they had to go see Sam in a couple of hours and for him to get ready.

When she got home, Joe was dressed in a business suit and had some clothes laid out for her. She took a shower; wrapped a towel around her hair and another around her torso. The clothes were laid out on the bed. Joe had left, and not given her any directions.

When she came downstairs, Joe was sitting in front of the television watching the news. Jenny had her curly long red hair combed down her back. She had two small braids started at her temples that had been pulled around behind her head and clipped with a jeweled butterfly. Her dark chocolate suede boots that zipped up the sides stopped just below her knees. The hem of her dark silk button front dress hit her about the bottom of her fingertips. The dress fit like a glove; no wrinkles anywhere. Several buttons had been removed at the top so that there were none from just below her breasts to her neck. The fabric was stiff and reinforced and did not gap open, although there was a thin line of skin exposed along the unbuttoned area.

Jenny's tan defied the perception that redheads don't tan. Faintly speckled, her arms, neck and legs had the soft sheen of a Bantam chicken egg. The faint spots were hardly noticeable within her light mocha complexion. The body lotion she had just put on left her with an almost oil sheen. Her wire rimmed spectacles gave her a studious look that contrasted with her child-like expression of uncertainty about her appearance. "You look fucking incredible, honey." Her husband said as he stood up.

Jenny took little solace in his compliment. "We're going to a job interview where this guy has already said he wants to fuck me." She thought to herself. How can my husband have anything but indignation or outrage on his mind?" she thought as her mind raced trying to absorb what was happening.

When they got there, Joe let her out at the front door while he circled the block trying to find a parking spot. Although she was forty five years old, she still got plenty of glances as she stood there. Men turned as they went by, trying to check out both sides of her. When her husband got there, he put one arm around her waist as he used the other to open the front door. Both were tense as her high heels clicked across the marble floor and the stainless steel elevator doors opened. Jenny wobbled a little as the elevator started up.

Sam's office was surprisingly tasteful. The Pilkington glass curtain walls with Planar fittings at the corners were almost invisible. The only thing that kept them from accidentally walking into it was the sand-blasted lace patterns across the top and bottom to indicate its presence. From the hall, Jenny could see Seated in the conference room behind the reception desk.

A beautiful black woman sat in front of a clear glass reception desk centered on the curved Pilkington glass wall that defined the conference room. There were no doors to the conference room. There were two openings; one at each end. The gentle curve of the glass effectively shielded any conversation in the room from escaping into the reception area.

When the couple stepped into the reception area, Sam saw them and waved them in. Sam was sitting in the middle of the conference desk facing them. Jenny and her husband came in; shook hands and sat down opposite him.

"I'm so glad that you came and brought your husband, Mrs. Jenkins. I had been to the flea market many times and saw your organization skills, wonderful taste in furniture, fabrics and clothes. I can see you have had a lifetime of sophistication. I feel I could offer a job for both of you if you are interested. What do you say?

This seemed almost all too easy for the couple who had been spending months looking for work. "How do you know we're qualified? How do you know we can do the job? You haven't even discussed pay." Jenny asked, knowing they would have to take the work regardless.

"Well, Mrs. Jenkins, I've already told you what I think your skills are. You heard me say at the flea market that I want sex with you. I don't give a fuck what your husband's skills are. I have a large property near Seattle, on an island in the inside passage. He can work as the caretaker and take care of everything outside the house; lawns, flowers, and cars. You will be the inside person. I have two boys and custody of them on the weekends. You can be a part-time teacher with them and help with their homework.

When I am there, you will be my hostess since I am not married. I entertain often. You will be in charge of entertainment and running the house when I am gone."

There was no discussion of what do you think about it. There was no implication or acknowledgement from him about any uncertainty on their part.

"You didn't mention anything about money" Jenny almost whispered timidly.

"O.K. I guess we aren't done. Your husband will get whatever would have been his regular pay where he worked before. At the end of each year he will get a 10% bonus and a 5% raise. You will get twice what he gets. You will all get paid in cash. You will not have to have any taxes deducted. That in itself puts you about 28% higher for what you get to take home. The food here is free and you have the maid's quarters at the end of the hall. It has a living, kitchen, dining, two bedrooms and a two car garage. I will let you use the black corvette. I will issue each of you a credit card with a $ 2,000.00 limit each month. When I am not here or there are no guests, you are free to go where you want. There is a 40 foot Scarab in the boathouse. Of course when I am gone, if we have any guests, you are the captain, Jenny. For your safety, I expect your husband to be along too. You can't be too cautious with some of these ex-football players around a beautiful woman out alone on a boat. I don't mind you fucking them, but I don't want you to get hurt."

There it was out; the "F" word. There was silence. Her husband was silent.

"How are you going to feel about that Joe? Your wife is going to be here as my hostess when I have parties. Her primary job is to entertain me while I am here. When we have guests, she is here to entertain all of us. The two of you may be out on a boat with some of my friends. How are you going to feel watching her having sex with some or all of them?" Joe was silent with his head bowed. He looked up at Jenny. Their eyes met. Joe didn't know how to express his anguish. On the one hand, they had no options other than being indignant and walking out and living in their truck.