“They’re looking for someone calm, caring and discrete,” the woman said. “And you were specially chosen by the family.”
“Why discrete?” Yasmine asked, curiosity temporarily overcoming her disinterest.
“The father is a VIP,” the woman replied. “He’s also a widower. There are two children. Beyond that, I can’t share anything without a confidentiality agreement.”
That was a sad idea, needing a nanny because your wife had died, whether you were a VIP or not. Yasmine felt an unexpected pang of compassion.
“The pay is more than we’ve ever offered even our most experienced nannies,” the woman added, as if that information were an afterthought.
The money shouldn’t matter. It really shouldn’t, she told herself, even as she fantasized about how nice it would be to turn up the heat a little at night, or upgrade to the hologram feature on her comms so she could see who she was talking to.
“May I have a little time to think it over?” she asked, hedging.
“You can have five minutes,” the woman said crisply. “I’ll send the confidential compensation offer so you can consider that as well.”
Her bracelet buzzed as the audio cut out. The agency wasn’t fooling around. But a nanny? Where had they even gotten her name for something like that? She certainly hadn’t included childcare in her skillset with the employment agency that had landed her this job.
She swiped to check out the compensation package, allowing Zanfredd to look over her shoulder. She hadn’t signed any confidentiality agreements just yet.
“Sweet Outer Rings,” Zanfredd hooted when he saw the number.
She couldn’t have said it better herself.
“Looks like I get room and board, too,” she said, reading on.
“It’s probably not fancy,” Zanfredd warned her. “People aren’t normally generous with the help, especially when they’re Terran.”
He wasn’t wrong. As relative latecomers to intergalactic travel, Terrans still faced prejudice on many fronts. But she was used to that by now.
“Not fancy still sounds heavenly,” Yasmine said, and promptly regretted it. She wouldn’t want him worrying that she lived poorly. “I have simple tastes,” she added.
“I knew I picked you for a reason,” Zanfredd teased. “I like a girl who is grateful for what she has.”
“That’s why I have to turn it down,” she decided, wondering if she was going to regret her decision when winter really kicked in.
“Are you kidding me?” Zanfredd asked.
“I have a job already,” Yasmine said. “I really like it here.”
“We love having you here, sweetheart,” he told her. “You’re a breath of fresh air around this place. But you can come visit us anytime. You need to make money and have some adventures with folks your own age.”
“But these would be little kids,” she pointed out.
“Even so,” he said. “Go do something interesting and get yourself a nest egg. If it doesn’t work out, they’ll have you back here, I’m sure of it. We’ve never had an assistant work as hard as you.”
“It does sound like the family needs help,” she thought out loud.
“Just don’t let the dad hit on you,” Zanfredd advised in solemn tone.
“He won’t hit on me,” she laughed. “He lost his wife. That’s why he needs a nanny in the first place.”
“They always hit on the nanny,” Zanfredd said sagely. “And you’re the prettiest young girl he’ll have ever seen. Means you have to keep your wits about you.”
If he only knew just how capable she was of looking out for herself…
But those thoughts only brought pain.
“Want to come with me?” she offered with a wink. “Keep an eye on me?”