Sebastian Vascile. Sebastian Vascile. Sebastian Vascile. I repeated the name to myself over and over in the hope that I wouldn’t forget it. 

Joel led me further into the house, and I struggled not to bump into the very expensive and sharp looking end tables and pieces of what I assumed were works of art. Very abstract art that looked more like jagged bits of metal twisted into crazy shapes. I’ve never been a fan of modern art, but it seemed to go with the themes of the house, I guess. I was curious how much the pieces cost. 

Joel caught me looking at the nearest metallic monstrosity and gave a little chuckle. I must have had a strange look on my face because he paused for a moment and gestured vaguely at the pieces in the room. 

“They came with the house,” he said. “I assure you, they are not what Master Vascile would have chosen, but when Ms. Emily saw them, she was quite amused and insisted that they stay. They do make a great conversation piece.”

“They’re uh, they’re certainly interesting,” I admitted.

“That’s one word for them. Frankly, I consider them more of a hindrance. I don’t look forward to the day that I misstep and plow headfirst into one of them. I don’t imagine it’ll be particularly dignified, or survivable.” Joel chuckled again as we continued on. I wanted so badly to take a picture that I could send to my besty Corrin. She loved crazy art like that, and probably could have told me who the artists were. Alas, it would definitely have been rude to do so, and I desperately needed this job. 

He led me down a long hallway, where I spotted a golden elevator about halfway down. So that’s how Emily got around. How lucky, to have a house so large that you could install an elevator. 

Finally, Joel led me into a room that looked like an office. He gestured to the big cushy chair on one side of a round glass table, then once I was seated, he sat down in the chair on the other side. 

“First things first, Ms. Evans, I need you to sign this NDA. It states that you will not mention the names of anyone who lives or works here, nor what they do, nor any revealing information about them. Mr. Vascile will go by Mr. Doe, or any other name you like if you are discussing your living situation with friends, but never by his own name. Nor anyone else. Nor will you say where you live to those closest to you should you choose to take this position. Is that understood?”

I blinked. I had signed an NDA before, but the overt secrecy of this one was a little intense. It also sounded like they were already offering me the position when I hadn’t even interviewed, unless I was mistaken. I wondered if I was just misinterpreting. I was very tired, after all. 

Joel took the stack of papers in front of him and pushed them across the table, along with a very fancy looking pen. 

“Just sign or initial all of the highlighted spots. I can give you time to read if you need to.”

I scanned the first page quickly, speed-reading thankfully being something I was good at. I scanned the next two pages, and when I was satisfied with what I had read, I quickly signed and initialed, before handing the papers back to Joel. He shuffled through them quickly, then set them down, smiled, and clasped his fingers together. 

“So tell me, Ms. Evans, what made you become a nanny?” Joel asked. 

“Oh, uh,” I fumbled, surprised that we were starting now. “Well, I’ve always loved working with kids. Children of all ages. There’s something about them that is just so precious, that makes me step back and take in life in the moment. And no matter what happens, I will bend over backwards to make sure they are safe, happy, and healthy.”

“And you have worked with children of school age in the past?” he asked. 

“Yes, all ages, actually. From baby to practically adult. Tweens and teens are a fun group.”

“They certainly keep you on your toes,” Joel nodded. “They do love their music. Ms. Emily blasts KPop for hours a day. I hope you’re not adverse to loud music, Ms. Evans.”

“Not at all,” I said. “If I end up getting the position, we can rock out together.”

“I think she would like that very much,” Joel said. 

“Sorry for asking, but how many people have you interviewed for this position?” I asked. 

“As many as we needed to, Ms. Evans. But when your CV found its way to my computer screen, I had a good feeling about you. I also consider myself a fairly good judge of people and their character. As far as I’m concerned, if you want it, the position is yours.”

“Oh, wow.” I’m pretty sure my mouth was a bit agape at the suddenness of the offer. I’d had great interviews before where I was pretty confident, but this man had barely asked me a thing and was now trusting me with the young lady of the house. A young lady I hadn’t even met yet. 

As though reading my mind, Joel stood up and asked, “Would you like to meet Ms. Emily?”