His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 4 The Interview

Moana

I pulled up to the address of the house a couple of hours later wearing a brand new set of clothes. During the time between getting the phone call and arriving, I took out my credit card, which I only used for emergencies, and ran out to buy something new to impress the family. It was just a crisp button-down shirt, tailored pants, and loafers, but as I pulled up to the enormous mansion in the mountains and saw the line of women at the door, I was glad that I had purchased the new clothes. I made sure to double check that the tags on the clothes were hidden, which I had kept on in case I didn’t get the job and would need to return them.

As I parked and walked up the pathway to the front entrance and got in line with my resume in my hand, my heart started to pound.

My heart started to pound even more when I noticed that women were not only filing into the mansion, but were also coming out with sad and defeated expressions on their faces. One girl, who was very pretty and looked a little younger than me, even had tears streaming down her cheeks as she came out with her resume crumpled up in her hands.

Was the employer so awful that he was making these poor women cry during their interviews?

As the line got shorter and I slowly made my way inside, I felt a lump rise in my throat. The inside of the house was stunningly beautiful, with dark Tudor-style wainscoting and creaky wooden floors. There was a massive double staircase in the front foyer, which was where the women would go when their names were called — up one side looking excited and confident, and down the other side looking defeated after their interviews.

“Name?” a woman’s voice said from in front of me. I looked up to see an older woman with gray hair that was pulled back into a tight, slick bun. She wore a dark blue dress with a high collar that was buttoned all the way up and had a clean gray apron on top that looked like it was freshly ironed. Needless to say, as she stared at me with her thin lips pressed into a straight line, she made me nervous.

“Moana Fowler,” I said, feeling my voice crack a bit under the pressure.

The woman muttered something to herself and looked down at the clipboard in her hand, making a tick mark next to my name.

human?” she said, shooting me a somewhat disgusted look.

other women were sitting and found a spot in a plush armchair in the corner, where I sat quietly and mulled

as an older woman came running down the stairs in hysterics. “She’s a little monster!” she said, tears streaming down her wrinkled face. “In all my years of being a governess, I have never — and I mean never —

risk; I really needed this job, regardless of the child’s behavior. The children at the orphanage I volunteered at absolutely loved me, even the difficult ones, and I was certain that I could find the good side

while I waited for my turn to have my interview, and eventually, as the sun went down and I sank into the plush armchair, I found myself involuntarily nodding off. My night out with Mr. Edrick Morgan left me more exhausted than I was

“Moana Fowler.”

the stern woman from before called my name and looked up to see

upright and nervously wiping a bit of drool off of the corner of my mouth with

the woman said sternly, stepping away from

had my interview,” I said frantically, standing with my resume

wish to see any more candidates,” she interrupted. “Especially

my heart drop into my stomach as I shook my

you won’t regret it if

for several painfully long moments before sighing. “Fine,” she said, turning and

followed the woman up the stairs, where she silently led me down a wide hallway that was lined with large, ornate wooden doors. Finally, we stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway.

I’m tired!” a small voice growled from behind a high-backed chair that faced the empty fireplace.

you,” I said softly, stepping

I stood in the middle of the room. Suddenly, as if my appearance didn’t meet her standards, the little girl leaped out

ball of fury, which only became more furious as I continued to ignore her displays

you running like the rest?!” she shouted, her

gaze. Her hair had fallen into her eyes. I slowly extended my hand to brush it away; she flinched, growling and baring her teeth, but let me

I said softly, watching intently as the little girl’s ears pricked

the floor, and when she spoke her face was still pointed down at it.

I said. “My name is Moana. Can I ask why you want to