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About this story:

Invisible grocery worker Spencer agrees to a favor for her best friend—only to be recruited as a dying woman’s “substitute wife” for her powerful husband. Loyalty, desire, and control collide during ninety-six dangerous hours that could change everything.

Author’s Notes
And yes, we’re getting right into the good part. Prepare for a big chapter.

Perhaps in the publishing stage, I will cut this chapter down, but for now, put your feet up and prepare to be juicified. This is about the fastest situation I’ve pushed my characters into. And i think i’ve gotten about all the new characters in that needs to be in the story. … well almost.

So let’s break some companionship books. Pepper, you meet in Eve’s Deception. She’s a bit occupied, but that’s in another book. And then you met Dr. Chance Jefferson. He appears in a lot of books, but you initially meet him in Sin’s Iniquity. (If you know other books he’s been in, please mention him for newer readers as well) No, he doesn’t have his own book yet. No one can take him… if you know what I mean. The church she goes to is also mentioned in Eve’s deception, and the pastor’s situation takes place in that book. Oh yeah, Gates spa… that’s all stealing innocence. If you’re a premium reader of this story – you paid to be here, you’ll be getting all those stories in your account. At least Eve’s Deception and stealing innocence.

I don’t think I’ve added Sin’s Iniquity as of yet, but it’s coming. Thank you for your support of my literary endeavors. Your author, Sylvia Hubbard

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Chapter 4 – Spencer Makes a Decision

The alarm’s discordant notes sliced through the quiet, jolting Spencer awake with a start. She sat up, heart pounding, eyes drawn immediately to the unfamiliar sight of the contract lying ominously across her bedside table. She hadn’t needed an alarm in ages; her routine was a well-oiled machine that didn’t require jarring reminders.

But here it was, disrupting her usual cadence. The alarm went off two hours earlier than her usual wake-up time, and Spencer found herself uneasily wide awake. This was unusual; typically, her body’s internal clock was sufficient. But today the stark urgency of that document, with its rigid parameters and life-altering stipulations, had shattered the comfort of routine she had clung to for so long.

This woman?! was all she could think as she knew it was from Delanie. Before going to sleep, she had accepted all the invitations on her calendar without reading any of them, too exhausted from the previous day.

At four in the morning, she wasn’t trying to glare at her phone screen for anything.

Turning off the alarm with half an eye open, Spencer noticed there were text messages from Leland, Ramona and also from the church’s secretary.

Immediately, she deleted the text from Leland, already knowing what he was begging about. A weight immediately lifted from her soul once she pressed that delete button. As if for the first time in a very long time, she didn’t need this in order to feel a part of the world.

Had just a conversation about Leland last night with Delanie, made Spencer feel this way? Or the opportunity to sleep with Delanie’s husband?

Eager to see what Ramona had to say, Spencer clicked it open.

‘Did my VP contact you?’

Spencer stared at the phone screen, unsure how to answer Ramona.

Knowing Ramona had not wanted to set up the lunch and the VP had been asking about Spencer for a month made her feel some kind of way about Ramona. Was her friend protecting her from Delanie? Or did Ramona want to keep her a secret from the VP, worried Spencer would reveal she was doing Ramona’s work?

Of course, Spencer wouldn’t reveal that. Not only did she not want to be put in the middle of office affairs or drama, but she also despised the spotlight the revelation of this secret would bring.

At the foot of her mattress sat the thick contract, which she’d tossed immediately when she entered the room with intentions of reading some of it before she fell asleep.

Sleep knocked her on her ass as soon as her head hit the pillow. Now, five hours later, the alarm was yanking her awake to face the world – her new world, which that pile of papers was a part of.

Looking at her phone again, she decided to attend to her bladder, wash her face, and brush her teeth.

As she did this, she looked at the other message from the church’s secretary, Sister Pepper. They were about the same age and had been instrumental in helping her not only learn office software but also in putting her grandmother to rest. Pepper could do a funeral on the back of her hand, and since Grandma Spence had been the head of the mother’s board, she had been a real loss to the church, and Pepper had not minded helping.

‘I’ve been quiet, but you’ve been quieter. This is only a check-in. Are you okay?’

Pepper was the type of person who understood solitude with older church members, but it was nice of her to send a message over to Spencer, who always thought no one ever thought about her. Ramona really only bothered her whenever she needed something… and then there were those lunches…

Her thoughts drifted for a moment, remembering Delanie had pressed Ramona about setting those up.

So Ramona really never wanted to go to lunch with her?

To get Pepper to answer, Spencer texted back. ‘I’m good. I hope you’re well also. OMW to out. Be blessed.’

She knew it was early in the morning for Pepper, and there probably wouldn’t be a response for a while. Ramona’s message appeared on her screen again, and she still chose to ignore it for a moment, unsure what to say without violating the NDA. And she certainly couldn’t speak with Pepper, the church secretary, about this abomination.

A persistent pinch in her shoulders made her do her stretches, briefly working the kinks out of her body, before she went back to the bedroom. Every now and then, Spencer would look at the document lying on her bed until she was almost glaring at it.

A long light purple shirt, black fleece leggings, and then she sucked on her teeth. Her dress shoes were still on her bike at work behind the dumpsters.

Looking in the corner by her door, she saw her work boots and some plastic pink shoes. Ramona had given her these three Christmases ago.

Would people look at her feet?

You are meeting her husband.

If it were at Delanie’s home, they’d make her take off her shoes, so what would be the worry?

Putting on two pairs of socks to keep her feet warm, getting in and out of vehicles in this cold weather, Spencer felt ready for the day, but the reluctance was there in her bones, gnawing at the marrow like an annoying mosquito.

You’re doing it! For Ramona. It doesn’t matter what the contract says; you have to do this, and you can’t tell Ramona. Spencer recalled the countless times Ramona had been there for her, a rock in turbulent times, offering unwavering support and friendship. Without Ramona, Spencer knew she’d be lost, adrift in the chaotic demands of life and overwhelmed with bullies, plus hunger. Ramona had dreams, dreams that were tied up with this opportunity, and Spencer couldn’t stand the thought of those dreams collapsing because of her hesitation. Once things were over and she had the money in hand, maybe she would feel better. Her morals and values wouldn’t bother her much if she tried not to think about things.

“What else were you going to be doing for the next couple of months?” This voice was clearly Delanie in Spencer’s head.

Yet there was a point to be made: doing the same thing every day brought Spencer peace. Life was easier when it was simple.

Heathens stay busy, Grandma Spence would sneer.

At the same moment Spencer thought that, a text from the car service app said a car would be there in thirty minutes to pick her up. IT was strange seeing that it was already prepaid and not coming out of her account. Most people probably wouldn’t notice things like that, but Spencer always factored in every dime she spent. Never above what she could afford. If she couldn’t pay cash, she just didn’t buy it.

And she hardly ever wanted anyone to buy things for her.

A calendar reminder pinged on her phone just as she was getting her coat on to wait for the car service to arrive.

Spencer almost didn’t look at her phone, annoyed by this reminder.

Heathens stay busy

Looking at the screen, she huffed, remembering tonight was bible study at church, which she’d usually ride her bike up the street to go. Pepper had responded:

Bible study canceled. Meeting tonight. Topic: New Pastor.

She remembered the church had been looking for a new pastor for a while, since their main pastor had stepped down to be head deacon, and the third assistant pastor had stepped into the space. Yet he had recently wanted to step down.

That meant it was important, but she wasn’t sure how her day would go.

Sending a quick message to the church secretary, Spencer let her know she would be late and asked her to forward the notes.

The car arrived, and she jumped inside with her backpack in hand. She’d packed a small lunch, the contract, an extra battery for the long day, and a charger.

The driver didn’t need to be told where to go, and it gave her an opportunity to break open the contract.

Part 1 – Appearance

This section was all about how she was to be dressed and groomed. Spencer remembered how Delanie made it seem important. The Proxy, which was her, must be kept clean and presentable at all times. Since this was part one, she surmised it was the most important.

Part 2 – Mannerisms and Etiquette

These details were appropriate in both public and private settings. Not really rules, but more or less how she needed to be amenable to situations. It gave her leeway in her choices but also spoke of compromises, even though she should take her feelings into account. One of the last sentences said, “Communication will be key from the Proxy.”

Part 3 – Schedule, Time, and Domicile

If the proxy agreed to the joining – which Spencer was growing irate by the word – she would immediately change her domicile to the address she had gone to the other night. A suite would be prepared for her comfort. Would that be in the dungeon, she wondered. The house had an air of foreboding, its size and grandeur overshadowed by what lay beneath. A basement domicile, where the damp concrete smell would cling to her clothes, exposed wires adding to the sense of neglect, and the faint buzz of a flickering bulb overhead served as a constant reminder of being hidden away, like a secret best kept locked in the dark. Spencer shivered at the thought, the very idea of living in such a place making her uneasy, as if she could feel the chill of the stone walls wrapping around her even now.

Her time would be spent training, learning Mrs. Parson’s habits, and understanding Mr. Parson so she could take the wife’s place when needed.

When needed?

Spencer sighed.

Her phone rang, and she didn’t bother to look at the screen.

“Why haven’t you texted me back? Are you okay?” Ramona questioned worriedly.

In the background, Spencer heard a lot of commotion. It was still early morning, and Ramona was at home.

“I’m still overwhelmed.”

“So is it cleaning that big ass nice house they have?” Ramona asked.

Remember the warning of not saying anything and making something up, she eased into what was assumed, “They need a permanent kind of situation, but I’ll be spending the weekend there doing some projects for Mrs. Parson.”

“Oh wow!” The jealousy dripped in Ramona’s voice. “You gotta sneak some pictures. I really want to see inside. You know she married some prick here?”

“Prick?” Spencer inquired.

“Yeah. Her father hired him back before my time, and he was a hotshot. Some people say he became a senior manager by sleeping with the boss’s daughter. I mean, you do what you have to do to get ahead, right?”

Spencer mumbled, trying not to seem interested in the subject. “Does he look like a prick?”

“No, he’s actually pretty decent… well, he’s more than decent, except he has this odd aversion to people touching him. He doesn’t like to be touched. So weird. They just sent out an email about a big company meeting on Monday. Did she give you details about the special project?” Ramona asked.

“No, but I’ll tell you what I can.” Or avoid talking to you altogether all weekend. “I might be really busy all weekend, though, so don’t go blowing up my phone and get me fired.” She knew Ramona could be really insistent when she wanted something.

“Yeah, sure, but keep me updated. I want to know everything. She keeps her life really secret, and even though her pops owned the company, she refused to replace his chair or even move up into the position.”

The car was slowing, so Spencer cut the conversation short. “Well, I have to go.”

“Are you up and out already? What’s up? You don’t have to be to work for a couple of hours, Spence.”

“I’m going to the doctor.”

This was a true statement.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just a check-up. I’ll talk to you later.”

When she hung up, she immediately pulled up Marques Parson on her phone.

How can Delanie know that her husband wants this if he doesn’t like being touched? Perhaps he was only indulging in this for his wife’s pleasure.

Most of the photos were group shots with other company employees, and he was always standing in the back, looking as if he didn’t want to be there, his features stoic.

She couldn’t tell his height, but he did have very broad shoulders and a thick build at the top. Robust.

No facial hair, and he kept his hair very short. Neat, with sharp lines. Methodical.

She was trying to remember everything Delanie had said about her husband, but her thoughts had been all over the place last night, and she had been exhausted from work.

Spencer scrolled through her phone as the car sped toward its destination. A news article caught her eye, detailing the company’s impressive growth since Delanie’s father had handed over the reins to his daughter. From a modest operation, it had expanded to 150 employees, serving small businesses and securing government contracts. According to the article, Marques Parson, the new senior director, credited the success to a ‘great team of people.’ In every photo, Marques stood in the background, his stance suggesting a preference for illusiveness over the spotlight. She still couldn’t tell his height from the photos, but he had a sturdy, broad-shouldered build.

He didn’t want the spotlight, she surmised.

“We’re here,” the driver said, yanking her back to reality.

She tipped him digitally after getting out of the car at the back of the building. As she started toward the front of the building, a door at the back of the medical building opened.

“Ms. Paige,” a black man over six feet tall, dressed in a doctor’s coat, called to her.

Was this some weird back-alley clinic? Spencer wondered, walking up to him but staying just out of arm’s reach.

“I’m Dr. Chance Jefferson. Mrs. Parson set up an appointment for you.” He had an air of sleep deprivation, but he was a ruggedly handsome black man in a way that suggested resilience. “This is my private entrance for discreet clients. Would you like to come inside? She said you might be wary since all this is new to you.”

Walking past him into a check-up room, she saw another door open, leading to a doctor’s office. “What is this?”

“My private room. This was designed to give some of my patients privacy to see me,” he explained. “There is a clipboard with some agreement forms so I can pull your medical records, a contact card for you to fill out, and a gown on the table. If you could change as quickly as possible so I can perform a full-body examination, I’d appreciate it. There are no cameras in here for privacy reasons, but I will speak with you via the private speaker system. Don’t worry, this room is double soundproof, so no one will hear us.”

He closed the outer door, then went into the office and closed that door to give her privacy.

This was different, she noted to herself. What kind of money do these people have to afford this kind of service, she wondered.

The doctor came over the room’s two-way speaker and made her verify her name and date of birth. “What’s your last period?”

“A few days ago,” she answered, changing and then filling out the medical consent forms.

“Heavy or light flow? Can you give me more details about it?”

These were standard questions when she’d gone to the doctor, so she had no problems answering. “Three days heavy and the rest medium to light. It usually lasts five days. Although I get the headaches and the worst pain during the light part, then the heaviest.”

“Any surgeries, allergies, pregnancies, or injuries I should know about?”

Her eating habits had nothing to do with her physical or sexual health, so she didn’t mention it. “Nothing serious,” she answered. “The daily wear and tear of working in a stockroom, if any.”

“May I come in?”

“Yes, Dr. Jefferson,” she said, sitting on the medical table.

She noted he had to duck to enter and wondered what would make this man go into the medical field when he clearly had a body to kill a quarterback.

“You know your medical information will be sent to Mrs. Parsons and made available to her and her husband, correct?” he explained. “And I’ll provide their medical information to you, as they have allowed me to.”

She nodded her agreement, but also spoke out loud. “Yes, sir.”

He gave her a sidelong look to make sure she really understood, then performed a full physical examination before the gynecological probe.

“When was the last time you were sexually active?”

“Two years ago,” she answered. “But it was oral. The other way I’d say almost three.”

“The other way?” he asked, amused. “You mean vaginaly? Full coitus?”

Spencer grimaced at the fancy word, but she pretended to understand. “Yes, but he wore protection.”

She saw him give her that sideways look again.

He was very thorough in his examination, then drew saliva and blood samples. “I’ll send this over to rush for results by this afternoon. Do you take birth control?”

“I get the shot every three months still, even though I’m not sexually active.” She let him know the date of her last shot.

“That’s fine. I’ll see if it’s time to switch it up to be more effective. We wouldn’t want you to get used to anything and then slip up.”

Lawd, she hadn’t thought about that. What if she did get pregnant? That would be a nightmare. Wait, she forgot to ask if they’d be using protection as a mandatory part of the agreement. Was that clearly stated in the contract? She needed to be sure. Would they discuss the necessity of condoms, or would birth control be solely her responsibility? With all of these concerns swirling in her mind, she realized she couldn’t afford to overlook such critical details.

As she put on her clothes, Spencer knew she had to revisit the contract for clarity. The car service should return in about fifteen minutes, and she would have to use the time to sort through these thoughts. She reassured herself that she’d be able to address these issues.

Dr. Jefferson assured her, “I’ll email you all your results. It was nice to meet you, Ms. Paige.”

She shook his outstretched hand. He was very clinical, with a rare, warm doctor’s manner. “Will I be able to see his medical stuff?” she asked.

“Oh yes, thank you for reminding me.” He went to an electronically locked cabinet and pulled out a brown folder. “Everything you need for the situation.”

And then he left her alone to go into his office with the door closed.

She saw that Marques Parson had a physical exam two days ago, and everything was clear. He was five eleven, two hundred pounds, with very little body fat.

There was a birthmark on his inner thigh about two inches in diameter.

That was pretty much all the information the file gave her.

A cab had come to pick her up, and the driver knew where she was going without asking. Spencer turned her attention back to the contract.

Part 4 – Sexual Intercourse/Sexual Relation

The proxy will be available for sexual intercourse/sexual relations at all times. This sentence was bolded and italicized with a reference to grooming and cleanliness.

All acts must be consensual – this put her mind at ease. Proxy must be open to exploration in unknown sex acts and be able to learn and perform special requests. This statement was odd, but she only noted it and read on.

Birth control will be the proxy’s duty to make sure she takes it, and condoms will be provided at the appropriate time if warranted by the husband.

Was that to say he would use them whenever he wanted?

Looking at the calendar item, she saw she had an appointment at Gates Spa. Spencer was somewhat familiar with the place. It was a hoity-toity spa; the churchwoman swore it was all luxury, but, more importantly, it cost an arm and a leg to go.

The senior deacon had gifted his wife with a one-year pass on their anniversary, and according to the church’s secretary, the cost would’ve taken Spencer two years to earn working overtime every day.

Just as she was getting out of the cab, the driver caught her attention and handed her a small envelope.

Inside was the card with the gold backing she remembered Delanie holding.

“You need that to get inside,” the driver instructed her.

She thanked him and went into the spa. The gold-decorated lobby and the employees in deep-gold, shiny uniforms overwhelmed her. Instantly, she knew her bank account was not set up to even afford to be in this space, and her grip tightened on the card she was carrying.

“Hello, I’m Cat. How can I help you?” one of the women from behind the welcome desk walked up to her as she entered.

Spencer was too shocked to speak as she looked around at the opulence surrounding her and the sweet smell of warm honey and lavender.

Cat looked a young thirty with flirty, warm brown eyes and deep chestnut skin. She was soft and pretty.

Handing the card to her, Spencer flubbed out her first name and mumbled something about an appointment.

As she spoke, she noticed Cat taking in what she was wearing, and she was fine until she got to Spencer’s plastic shoes. Disgust flashed in, as if she couldn’t believe Spencer would wear those.

Cat quickly scanned the card on the digital tablet she carried, then looked a little relieved. “Yes, Ms. Paige, we’re ready for you.”

She noted that Cat’s appearance seemed more welcoming once the card information instantly appeared on the tablet. “You are?”

“Follow me,” she insisted, and took Spencer through double doors and down another gold-decorated hallway to a room where Spencer’s name was on.

“You caused a ruckus this morning as we were getting client rooms together. We thought you were a man,” Cat admitted, coming into the all-white private dressing room with her. “We’d initially set you up on the guy side.”

“I’m sorry. My name usually throws everyone off.”

“I’ve never met a female named Spencer.”

“Neither have I.”

Cat chuckled and pointed to a thick terry cloth robe hanging on the wall. “Put only that on, with the slippers, and I’ll be back to take you to your first session.”

“The mud bath?”

“Oh no, that’s later, but you have a full day, so just relax. You’re going to be walking out on cloud nine by the end of the day. I assure you.”

Spencer doubted a place could make her feel that way, but since she’d never been to a spa, she didn’t judge.

Right after she took off her clothes, Spencer heard her phone vibrate.

“You’re there,” Delanie said on the line. “I’m shocked.”

Spencer would have to remind herself to screen her calls before answering them. “Why are you shocked?”

“I figured since you didn’t take the blank check, you wouldn’t go.”

“I went to the doctor’s this morning.”

“I couldn’t find that information until he processed all your paperwork, so I was stuck waiting until you went to the spa to see if you were going to go. Does that mean you’ll be joining us this weekend?”

Spencer grumbled, “I’m still thinking about it.” She didn’t want to give any information to make this woman happy.

“What section of the contract are you on?”

“Section four.”

“Then I understand your reluctance, but I did tell you to text me any concerns.”

“What does it mean to be ready for sex all the time? Is he a nymphomaniac?”

Delanie chuckled. “No, Ms. Paige. It just means more or less grooming and being open to sexual situations that can occur at any time and any place.”

Spencer wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“I know you’re a bit overwhelmed. A year ago, we could have moved more slowly. Given you a lot of time, but with my health situation, you can understand why we have to do everything so rushed.”

“I understand, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Finish reading and then text me whatever you’re thinking.”

“And he wants to meet me?”

“He’s scheduled to meet you this afternoon,” Delanie assured her. “A car service will pick you up this afternoon and bring you to me.”

Spencer was again lost for words. There was so much to say, but she couldn’t speak.

“I do appreciate that you even accepted this much from me,” Delanie continued. “And if you decide after the spa session you don’t want this, consider this session on me for taking the time out to consider it.”

That was a relief, because Spencer didn’t know how she could afford something like this.

Delanie said, “By the time you’re done and you want to meet him, you’ll come up with an amount for the check. You’ll have to accept some financial restitution from me before we can begin, Ms. Paige.”

Could she hang up and just leave?

“Fine,” she grumbled.

“Have a good time,” Delanie said, and the line disconnected.

Spencer wondered if, by hurling her phone across the room so she would never have to answer another call, she would prevent that woman from contacting her.

There’s still time to go back to your old life, she told herself.

But Ramona won’t get the raise. And her best friend would always wonder what happened.

Part 5 – Time, Resources

The proxy would have equal treatment from the husband. All resources available to the husband will be accessible to the proxy, including bank accounts, estates, insurance, and other assets. This arrangement serves not only as a symbol of trust but also as a reminder of the stakes involved in the agreement. By granting the proxy such generous terms, the husband ensures her full commitment and alignment with the family’s interests, emphasizing the significant role she is expected to play in their lives.

Part 6 – Support

Spencer stopped reading to catch up on everything that had happened so far.

A flash of memory came to her: her grandmother’s voice, steady and unyielding, saying, “Never compromise your principles for money, Spencer. Money comes and goes, but your integrity is a part of who you are.” Grandma Spence’s eyes had held a fierce conviction, a conviction that had kept Spencer grounded through life’s temptations. Yet, here she was, standing on the precipice of a choice that could test every moral fiber within her. The voice of her grandmother clashed with the urgent whispers of her current situation, a chorus of doubts that clouded her mind.

Spencer realized that the promise of financial security was a siren call, alluring but potentially destructive. Inwardly, she wrestled with the weight of her decisions, questioning if the ends could truly justify the means. Was compromising a part of herself worth the facade she might have to wear? Could she live with the knowledge that she had traded pieces of her own truth for the shimmering promise of stability? These questions churned within her, turbulent and unresolved.

At least with the money, Spencer could feel like it was worth it. The secrets, the lies, the deceit.

Cat returned. “Are you ready, Ms. Paige?”

___ *** ___

End of This Chapter | Post your thoughts in the comments | Let the author know what’s going on in your head
His Substitute Wife … My Best Friend (c) 2026 Sylvia Hubbard All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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