“Tell me more about your daycare skills?” I turn back. His smile is gentle. Friendly. “I’m desperate and short on time. If you’re familiar with children, I would love to try you out. I pay well. A competitive salary. Full benefits. I even have a guesthouse if housing is an issue.”
He pulls out his wallet and hands me a business card. I accept it, reading the text. Jonathon Brooks. CEO. Brooks Industries, LLC.
“You can Google me and make sure I’m not a serial killer. I have a six-year-old daughter named Anna. Her current nanny left abruptly and I’m in a major bind. If you’re at all interested, please come to my home and meet her. If you two hit it off, I would love to hire you. If not, I’ll continue my search.”
A full-time job? Salary? Benefits? This all sounds too good to be true. At the pace I’m at, I’m close to being able to escape the claws of my father and move out. But this may be my opportunity to do it even sooner.
“May I ask about salary?”
“Assuming you can work a normal work week schedule, some weekends, and some late nights when I travel, I’m offering forty-five thousand a year to start. It’s always negotiable if you require more.”
I sway to the side, and Jonathon reaches out to catch me. “Whoa, are you okay?”
“Yes, sorry. I…I’d like to think about it if that’s okay?”
He nods. “Of course.”
I thank him and stroll back to the table so I don’t pass out, the salary amount doing double flips in my head.
When I sit down, Chase is staring at me. “You didn’t find a new date while you were up there, did you?”
If I’m not mistaken, there’s a bit of jealousy in his tone. I find it cute and reply with a playful smile. “Well, maybe. He did just offer me a job.” I waggle my brows.
His own go up. “Oh, is that how we proposition beautiful girls nowadays? Looks like I’ve been going about this all wrong.”
I laugh and show him his card. “No, I’m serious. He just offered me a job. A nanny position. To be honest, it seems too good to be true.”
He reaches forward and snatches the business card out of my hand. “Let me see that.” He inspects it for all of two seconds. “Yeah, not a good idea. That suit looked like a knock-off. Very serial killer-ish if you ask me.”
I laugh and try to grab the card back, but he pulls away. “Come on now.”
“I’m serious! I know this kind of stuff. Here, let me help you out.”
He startles me when he gets up. “Wait, where are you going?”
Chase walks over to the hostess stand and whispers something to her. The trampy little smile that spreads across her face irks me. Leaning forward, she hands him a piece of paper. Chase scribbles something on it, then walks over to the bulletin board and pins up the piece of paper.
What the heck is he doing? He comes back and sits down.
“What did you just do?”
“I have a job too. I’m looking for someone to hire. Thought I’d give it a chance.” Rolling my eyes, I stand up and make my way back over to the bulletin board, reading the piece of paper he pinned. I hold my stomach as a fit of laughter takes over.
“Are you serious?” I ask as I reclaim my seat.
“What? It worked for that guy. Thought I’d take a chance.”
“Yeah, but he’s offering a salary.”
“A date with me is priceless.”
I can’t stop giggling at how ridiculous he’s being. A girl standing at the bulletin board reading Chase’s ad steals my attention. “Looks like I might have some competition.” He twists in his chair and looks over.
We both watch as she unpins it and puts it in her purse. “Wow, this place is a hotspot. You’re about to have a date for hire,” I lean over, laughing.
“Shit.” He jumps out of his seat and races toward the front entrance. I hurry after him, but I can barely move fast enough I’m laughing so hard. He gets stuck behind a family, allowing me to catch up. Grabbing his bicep, I lean into him, trying to catch my breath.
“What are you doing? You’re going to crush that poor girl’s dreams.”
“Well, that dream was meant for you.”
I’m still laughing. “You’re gonna have to tell me if she calls.” His lips purse into the cutest pout. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll turn out to be the woman of your dreams.” I have to bite my lip to hold in my laughter.
“This is your fault,” he grumbles.
“My fault? I didn’t tell you to pimp yourself out.”
“Ugh...you’re going to get it.”
“Hmmm...we’ll see.”
We find ourselves staring at one another, our banter morphing into something deeper. Something more intense. His eyes fall to my mouth, and I can’t help but bite at my bottom lip.