by Ford, Mia
Finally, fifteen minutes after the doors are locked, Rick stretches and looks at the time.
“I think we’re done for today,” he calls. “Thanks, Zoe!”
“No problem!” I call back, shoving the last squeaky toy on the shelf.
I wait a beat, hoping that Rick won’t suddenly change his mind. Then I power walk to the break room and make a beeline for my bag. I rustle through it, cursing my bag’s ability to hide everything that I need right at the bottom, and extract my phone.
There’s a message waiting for me from the job site. I stop and inhale deeply, preparing myself. Then I open the email.
Dear Zoe,
Thank you for your application. It has been received by the advertiser. You will be notified shortly of the outcome.
Regards,
The JobSearch Team
I blink. Is that it? This is what I’m getting so worked up over? I completely forgot that I get a confirmation email when I apply for a job. After all that worrying, it looks like this is all I’m getting for now.
I shake my head and move to drop my phone in my back. Suddenly, though, it vibrates with an incoming message.
It’s the job site again. But, this time, the email title proclaims “You have received a message regarding your job application!”
My breath catches. This is it.
I almost don’t want to open it now that I know for certain that it’s a response from Seth. I stare at the notification for so long that my screen goes dark. I tap it quickly and open the message; it’s better to get this over with.
Zoe,
Thank you for your application to work with my daughter. Your resume is extensive, but you don’t have the experience I requested.
I let out a sigh. It doesn’t surprise me. Feeling a little glum, I continue reading…and my eyes widen.
However, circumstances have made me decide to broaden my search a little. If you are willing, I would be interested in meeting you tomorrow for a job interview. If I feel like you are a good fit, regardless of your lack of experience, I would be willing to consider you for the position. Please let me know if tomorrow at 1 pm, at the Darrose Café, will suit you.
Thank you,
Seth Gray
I stare at the message, still trying to absorb what I’m reading. It doesn’t surprise me that Seth is unsure about my lack of professional nanny experience. It does surprise me that he is willing to try anyway.
It says a lot, I realize, about how desperate he is for a nanny right now.
Shaking myself out of my stupor, I type out a message to send back, then read back over it to make sure it sounds professional enough.
Seth,
Thank you for this opportunity. The time and place are suitable for me. I will see you tomorrow.
Zoe
Short, to the point, and it doesn’t give away just how excited I am. For the first time ever, I’ll meet Seth face-to-face.
What am I supposed to say to him? Making any mention of my feelings for him is a huge no-no, as is telling him how I watch him leave for work every morning; I don’t want to come across as some sort of stalker, after all. No matter how desperate he is, Seth wouldn’t be happy to employ me if I make that kind of impression.
It slowly dawns on me that, yes, this is really happening. I’ve applied for a job at Seth Gray’s house, and I have an interview with him tomorrow.
Focus, I tell myself.
I wonder, though, if he noticed the address on my resume. If he did, he would realize that I live right next door to him. Or perhaps he hasn’t seen that yet.
Is it better or worse that he knows? It could definitely be a conversation starter; “Hey, I’m your next-door-neighbor, but you don’t recognize me because you’re always in a rush.”
I wince at how that sounds, even in my head.
Okay, I can think about what to say to him later. I can even call Katherine; she would be happy to help, after she stops laughing at me.
Then I realize that there’s another problem.
What do I wear?
I bolt outside, shouting a farewell to Rick as I go, and head down the street; my work isn’t far from home, and it’s much cheaper to walk on the small salary I’m currently getting. As I walk, I think about what I’m going to wear to this interview.
I know it’s ridiculous to care about what sort of clothes I can wear to an interview with Seth, but it’s something that I can control right now, something that I can make a decision on.
Knowing me, I will probably spend the next couple of hours tossing between several clothing options. This is important, after all. It’s the first time Seth will really look at me. It’s important to give him a favorable first impression.
And not just because of the job, either. I want Seth to see me, not only as a prospective employee but also as a woman.
First things first. Clothes. Conversation topics. Perhaps some breathing exercises, though that may look a little strange. I also need to practice what I can say in order to actually get the job. All of this will be for nothing if he doesn’t actually employ me.
“I can do this,” I say aloud as I arrive at my driveway and walk toward my front door. “I can definitely do this.”
It’s just an interview, that’s all. I’ve been through a lot of interviews. I just need to go in there, pretend that it’s an interview like any other, and leave feeling confident that I can get the job. If he’s asking to meet me, after all, there probably aren’t a lot of applicants.
Before anything else, though, I need to call Katherine. I definitely need a second opinion right now.
Chapter Five
Seth
Out of breath, I race into the center, spot the café I’m looking for, and make my way toward it, trying to straighten my shirt after the run. It’s so unprofessional of me; not only do I look a mess, but I’m late for an interview that I’ve set up.
Unfortunately, Alicia has chosen today to decide that she doesn’t like staying with my parents if I’m not there too. It has taken me a good hour to extract myself from her, with the promise of ice cream when I pick her up if she’s good, and now I’m fifteen minutes late to my meeting with Zoe Jones, the woman who is applying to be Alicia’s nanny.
Even if I’m reluctant to meet this woman, based on her complete lack of experience, I don’t have any other choice. She is the only one that has responded to my advertisement, and I need to find another nanny before I return to work. Maybe she’ll only put off the inevitable for a little while longer…but that’s at least a week more that I’ll have to plan what to do next.
Entering the café, I look around, trying to spot Zoe. There’s a small crowd in the café, but everyone is sitting in groups of two or three, chatting over mugs of coffee or slices of decadent cake. Only one woman is sitting on her own, looking at her phone, and I make my way towards her, hoping she’s the one who I’m looking for.
She glances up as I approach, then does a double-take. A smile spreads across her face as she recognizes me.
“Seth?” she asks, standing and holding out her hand. “I’m Zoe Jones.”
I feel relief, first, that I wasn’t wrong, and then I shake her hand. She has a firm, sure grip, and I look at her a little more closely.
Most of my previous nannies were older men or women who have had many years of experience working with children. Somehow, I had come in expecting Zoe to be the same, but she’s actually quite young, somewhere around my own age.
She’s also, I can’t help but notice, quite beautiful.
My eyes trail over her figure, taking in her curves, her full breasts and her rounded butt. I snap my eyes up, but instead find my gaze on her thick, wavy chestnut hair and her long lashes as she slowly blinks them over brilliantly blue eyes. She is dressed tastefully in a pair of black slacks and a top made in some sort of floaty red material that sparkles occasionally when she moves. When she leans forward, I catch just a hint of the top of her breasts before I manage to look away once more.
I clear my throat.
“It’s nice to meet you, Zoe,” I say, gesturing for her to sit again. “Have you ordered?”
“No,” she says with another smile; the expression is stunning, I think. “I thought it would be polite to wait.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, abruptly reminded that I’m the one who is late. “My daughter has some separation anxiety issues, and it was some time before I could leave the house.”
“It’s okay,” she assures me. “You have a young child, and she has to come first.”
I feel myself relaxing a little. I force my mind away from her looks; I’m not here to check her out, I’m here to see whether she will be a good nanny for my daughter.
It really has been too long since I have spent any time with another woman, I realize with some amusement. Between Alicia and work, I hardly have any time to go out anymore. Zoe is likely the first woman I have looked at with appreciation since Rose died.
But that is where it stops. If I do hire Zoe, she will be my employee, and looking at her as anything else wouldn’t be right.
“Tell me a little about yourself,” I say, catching the eye of one of the waitresses. She smiles back, letting me know that she’ll be with us soon.
“I’m a painter,” Zoe says, leaning back in her chair. “I currently work at the big pet store near here. I live alone right now.”
“What sort of things do you paint?” I ask, curious.
She sighs. “Mostly unfinished things, if I’m honest. I don’t have a lot of time on my hands, and it’s difficult to find inspiration, sometimes. I enjoy arts and crafts of all kinds, though. Does Alicia like art?”
Startled by the sudden question, I blink for a second before rousing myself. I hadn’t expected her to ask about Alicia this soon; all the other nannies had fallen over themselves to give me their credentials first. I find that I appreciate her interest; Alicia is the one she will be working with, after all. It means more than I can say that Zoe asks after Alicia before she even asks about me.
“On occasion,” I say. “She likes drawing a lot.”
“Crafts are a fun way to learn,” Zoe says with a nod. “It could also be something she and I can bond over.”
I fight not to grimace. I doubt much bonding will be happening while Alicia tries her best to get rid of her newest nanny.
“Hello,” says the waitress suddenly, appearing behind me. “What can I get for you?”
“One long black coffee,” I say with a smile, then glance at my companion. “What would you like, Zoe?”
“One cappuccino, please,” Zoe says.
“Anything to eat?” the waitress asks.
I consider the menu on the wall for a moment, then I shake my head. Zoe does the same.
“Thank you,” she says to the waitress.
“I’ll be back with your order soon,” the waitress says brightly, and walks away.
“You’re not a fan of milk?” Zoe asks after a moment of silence.
“More that I got used to drinking black coffee,” I say with a laugh. “I keep forgetting to buy milk, and I’m so busy at work that I only stop long enough to pour some coffee into my cup. I got a taste for black coffee as a result.”
Zoe laughs. The sound is pleasant, and makes me smile in response.
“Now,” I say, looking at her seriously, “in reading your resume, it was obvious that you have no professional experience in looking after children.”
“I don’t, no,” Zoe said with a nod.
I’m concerned about this; the only applicant I get for the position is a woman who has no prior experience. If I hadn’t been desperate, I wouldn’t even be considering this.
“Do you have any experience?” I press.
“Well…” Zoe leans forward. I fight to keep my eyes on her face, but they flick down briefly, without my permission, anyway. “I’m not sure if you’ll count this, but I am the oldest of several siblings. As a teenager and a young adult, I looked after my siblings a lot.”
I don’t really count it, if I’m honest. I don’t know how old her siblings were when she looked after them… For all I knew, she could have been a teenager being forced to look after her younger teenage and pre-teen siblings. But Alicia is five years old… In a perfect world, I would have an applicant that is used to working with young children.
“It’s good enough for now,” I tell Zoe, even if that’s a lie. It really isn’t good enough, but I have no other choices. “You haven’t done any childcare courses?”
“No,” Zoe says.
Which just makes it more difficult, if I’m honest. I’m looking for a professional, not someone who thinks they can do some babysitting as a hobby. I sit back and study Zoe, murmuring a thanks to the waitress as she approaches with our drinks. Zoe appears unbothered by my scrutiny; she just sips at her coffee and waits.
“You’ve seen the hours?” I ask finally.
“Yes,” Zoe says. “Monday to Saturday, nine in the morning until late, likely between nine and ten?”
I straighten, startled. That’s an oddly specific time, and right on point.
“Good guess,” I say warily.
She laughs and shakes her head. “Seth…I’m your neighbor. I see you coming and going all the time.”
I stare at her. I try to remember the address on her resume, but I hadn’t even paid attention to it.
“Neighbor?” I manage to ask.
“Right next door,” she confirms, and hides a smile behind the rim of her coffee cup. “You’re always in a rush, so it doesn’t surprise me that you never noticed me. I’m in the little house with the solar lights out front.”
The very same lights that I had admired the other night, before Yvonne left. I rub my forehead, feeling a little embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” I offer.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says instantly, putting her cup down. “As I said, I know how busy you are. And I’ve seen you come home on occasion, so I know what time you normally get back home. I’m completely okay with those times.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Earlier, you said you had very little time to paint. If you get this job, you’ll have even less time.”
“It’s fine,” Zoe says with a shrug. “I’d get Sundays off, right? I can use Sunday to pick up any supplies or paint if I want.” She grins. “Maybe doing art with Alicia will give me some inspiration.”
I chuckle at the thought. Despite her lack of experience, Zoe has, at least, come into the interview with all the information, and an answer prepared for everything. I’m still thrown off-guard about the fact that she’s my neighbor and that I never noticed, but I carefully file it away to consider later.
“Being your neighbor also means I never have an excuse to be late,” Zoe adds, and, this time, I laugh, making her grin at me.
“True,” I say. “I just have one last question. Why did you even apply for this job in the first place? You have no prior experience, no qualifications… What made you think this was a good idea?”
The last question comes out as a demand, but Zoe doesn’t seem put off by it. Instead, she thinks about it, tapping her chin. My eyes are drawn to her finger, and then linger on her full lips, a modest lipstick painted on them.
“I’ve been looking for another job,” Zoe says, and I drag my eyes back up to meet hers. “I keep searching the job sites, and I’ve been knocked back a few times already. When I saw your advertisement, I thought I would give it a go; as your neighbor, I have noticed that you have been through a few nannies, and I thought I would try my hand at it.”
Not the answer I normally like to hear; she didn’t say she applied because she loved children, or because she is hoping to get her qualifications later in life. But it’s also an honest answer, and I appreciate that, too.
I finish the rest of my coffee and smile at her. I am a little disappointed, because I don’t feel like she is the type of nanny that I am looking for, but I also know that my options ar
e quickly running out.
“Thank you for meeting me,” I say. “I’ll let you get on with your day. I’ll think about your application and today’s interview, and let you know as soon as I can whether you got the position.”
“Thank you,” Zoe says.
She stands at the same time as I do, then bends over to pick up her handbag. Her shirt rides up a little as she does, and I stare at the sliver of skin on her hips that is revealed before she straightens.
I kick myself. How unprofessional.
“I’ll talk to you later,” I say, offering her my hand once more. “I’ll pay for the drinks; it’s the least I can do since you came out here to meet me.”
“Thanks,” she says with a laugh. “Well, I’ll hear from you soon, then.”
I watch her leave, mesmerized by the swaying of her hips and then I sigh, making my way to the counter to pay. Not only is she an unqualified nanny, but I’m also finding it difficult to keep my eyes off her, which makes hiring her a bad decision for many other reasons.
Did I have any other choice, though?
As I leave the café, I check my emails. As I expected, there are no other messages from any of the job sites waiting for me. No one else has applied for the position.
Ruefully, I remember the first time I put the advertisement up; I had been inundated with so many resumes that it had been difficult to choose between them. Now, nearly a year and a half later, after going through so many nannies, I’m lucky if I get one applicant.
If I hire Zoe, and she leaves, I know that that will be it. There will be no more nannies. I get into my car and sit there for a moment, closing my eyes. Zoe has no experience with children, especially children that cause problems like Alicia. She likely won’t last very long at all, for that reason.
But it would give me a few days extra to plan. If I can convince Zoe to stay for even a week, I can organize things with Jason and the company so I can work from home if I need to.
It isn’t an ideal situation. But it’s a plan, for now.
Opening my eyes, I twist the key in the ignition, more than ready to head home. All I need to do now is put up with Zoe for a few days, and then, hopefully, I can find some way to resolve this headache.
