Brock's Leading Lady (The Nanny Tales 1)

What else can I say? She is right. This job is my last resort at finding something that will pay me what I need in order to keep taking care of my little sister. I glance up and see her eyebrow quirked up. It is her way of telling me to answer her with words.

“Yes, Mrs. Netherbee. Sorry. It won’t happen again.” I tell her fully meaning it, but I'm not sure I can stick to it.

“See that it doesn’t. Now, you have a face to face interview with Mrs. Clara Jones. She is the office manager for none other than Brock Phillips.” She says the last part with more than a little enthusiasm.

Her face is displaying a look of sheer professional pride. I try to imitate the look, but the truth is I have no idea who she is talking about. “Aren’t you excited, Miss Chabert?”

I know I should say something or at least feign over the top excitement, but to be honest I am so exhausted I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

“Tell me you know who that is?” I shake my head slowly feeling ashamed. “For Pete's sake. You live in this community. Get to know it. You want to make it as a nanny, you need one of these rich families to hire you. I suggest you leave this office and hit google. Your interview is tomorrow morning at nine in the morning. Don’t be late, Delta.” With those parting words, she dismisses me.

As soon as I hit the street, I take a deep breath. I am always tense and self-aware when I am in her office. Looking at my watch, I see I have a few more hours before my little sister River gets out of school. There is enough time to beat rush hour traffic, stop at Starbucks for one of those delectable caramel macchiatos and a blueberry scone, while I look up this man and figure out what I am up against.

My mind roams back to my sister, River. Whenever I think of her, my heart does flip flops. My mom was an aspiring actress, like everyone else in this godforsaken town. She was born and raised in the swamps of Louisiana. Fleeing her backwater life as soon as she turned 18 to end up here. Going on auditions and casting calls, while working as a waitress in between for food and rent. Cliché I know.

She landed a big part in a B-list movie where she met my dad, who was the on-set production assistant. He was drawn to her beauty instantaneously. She liked that he knew people. When he began courting her as they called it, she fell for it. As time went on, she said she began to notice he would get jealous anytime another man looked at her. Never mind if it was on set or off. It became so bad; he was banned from any movie set she was a part of and lost his job in the process. She was going to leave him when she came up pregnant with me. He begged her not to leave, told her he would change, and asked her to marry him. Alone in a big city, pregnant, and just shy of her 19th birthday; she figured what choice did she have, and she said yes.

You know how the story goes. Man changes for a bit, then changes back. Yep, that one. She tried to leave once and took me with her. We went to a motel and she called home. Her daddy called her a slut. Told her she got what she deserved coming to a sin-filled place like this and hung up on her. But not before calling me the devil's child.

Not sure what else to do at this point and pregnant with baby number two, she went back to him. I don’t remember a time when they weren’t yelling and screaming at one another. There was always liquor and drugs around. People coming and going. I used to go into River’s room when she was little, and sleep by her bed at night when they would have one of their parties. I promised to protect her from everyone, including our very own parents.

One day when I was twelve, I came home from school to find my mom crying and yelling. She was a wreck. I could tell she was high, but I also sensed the distress in her. I started to panic, thinking it was my sister. I went through the house yelling her name and opening and closing doors. The fear creeping up into my throat was almost choking me, while I prayed she was ok. When I made it to my room, I saw her asleep on my bed. My God, I have never been so happy for anything in my life than to see her alive and breathing.