Pretend Honeymoon (Romance) Page 3

  Dear Ms. Snow,

  Thank you for applying for the position of caregiver. Your application was found favorable, and I would like to extend an invitation to you to attend an interview tomorrow at 2:30 p.m.

  You’re required to be dressed appropriately for this interview. Should you have any questions or need to reschedule, please contact us at 512-835-0568 or email us.

  Please note, if you are selected for this position, you will be required to start immediately. The address as well as directions to get onto the estate are in the attached document.

  Sincerely,

  Jarrod Simpson.

  I squealed with delight after reading through the email twice to ensure I hadn’t misunderstood its content. Mom came running into the living room.

  “What happened?” she asked in alarm, and I sobered, remembering her heart condition.

  “I got the interview,” I answered with a grin. “Well, I know it’s not the job, but I can’t believe they want to interview me.”

  “Hmm, I told you so,” she stated with a smile before turning to leave. “Now figure out how you’re going to convince that family you’re capable of taking care of two children.”

  I sobered at those words. I couldn’t take it for granted that because they were kids, I didn’t need to do research. I reached for my laptop to reply to the email with an assurance I’d be there and to do a crash course in childcare.

  Chapter 4

  Jarrod

  “Jarrod, is there anything I can help you with?”

  Glancing up from my computer screen where I was busy perusing the list of interviewees for this afternoon, my face relaxed visibly at my executive assistant who had walked into my office. She closed the door behind her and walked to my desk.

  Pearl Goodwin had worked for me for four years, and she was the only employee who called me by my first name. She was allowed, given how closely we worked together. She handled both my business and, sometimes, my private affairs. She was quite efficient, a charming person with a level head and eye for details. She sat in many of my high-profile business meetings, traveled with me when I had need to visit other locations across other states, and she saw to it that my life was organized.

  I gave credit where it was due, and she was a difference in my life. I’d promoted her to executive assistant earlier this year. Before, she had been my personal assistant, but she more than deserved the new title and huge salary that went along with it. From past experience, there weren’t many women I would have willingly worked so closely with. They had a tendency to catch feelings or think it their undercover mission to get me into bed and marry into my money.

  At five feet, eight inches, she was a tall woman, even against my six feet, one-inch frame. She was always perfectly poised, and her manner of speech and the way she dressed businesslike. Her lustrous black hair was always maintained in a chin-length bob which complemented her oval face. Gray eyes displayed sharp intelligence. She was a beautiful woman in a classical sense. She was the epitome of what I would have wanted in a wife, but I didn’t desire one and wasn’t attracted to her, even as beautiful as she was. We had nothing but a professional relationship, and she felt the same way. Never had she flirted with me as some of the women around the office did.

  “Hmm,” I said thoughtfully as an idea started to form in my head. “Pearl, how would you like to help me interview some prospective candidates today?”

  “Your daughters’ nanny?” she asked with a raised brow.

  “Yes. I still have to go through the applications I received from teachers,” I responded, my tone revealing frustration. “Getting a caregiver is first and foremost on the list, though.” I ran my fingers through my hair, resisting the urge to tug.

  “Are you interviewing them here?” she inquired, her eyes keen with interest.

  “No, at the estate,” I clarified “I’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Ah,” she said in understanding. “So that’s why you cancelled the meeting with Thornton Co.”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “This is very important. The first rounds of interviews went badly, but I think this batch has great potential.”

  “At the salary you’re willing to pay, I’m sure many women wouldn’t mind quitting their jobs to look after those two children,” she exclaimed with a chuckle. “You’re offering this nanny almost the same salary I’m getting. That’s way too much.”

  “Not really. I’d offer someone a million dollars if she might help them come out of their shells.” I could hear the desperate edge to my voice. “I want the best for my kids, Pearl.”

  “Maybe I should quit and take the position then,” she joked on a short laugh.

  “And I’m sure you’d do a great job, too,” I told her with a smile. “You’re quite perfect in every way. You never disappoint. That’s why I think you’d be an asset to me in these interviews.”

  She shrugged her slim shoulders, her eyes reflecting pleasure at my compliment. “Sure, why not?”

  I was relieved. “Thank God. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes and take your things with you. You might as well go home after the interviews.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  I watched her saunter from the office, the gentle sway of her hips prompting me to wonder why she wasn’t married. She was a couple years younger than my thirty years. I didn’t know much about her personal life, but I didn’t remember her ever mentioning a boyfriend. She was always focused on her career, which was why I enjoyed working with her.

  Quickly, I printed the compilation of notes I’d made on the individuals I’d chosen to interview. Nine women had been selected, and I had carefully chosen eight because of their impressive CVs and recommendations. The final one didn’t have much experience listed, but there was so much heart in her cover letter and she was the only person who had replied to my email, thanking me for the opportunity to represent herself in person.

  Retrieving the sheaf of papers from the printer, I organized them in a file jacket and shut down the computer. Packing my briefcase, I glanced at my watch. The drive from the office to the estate was approximately fifteen minutes. We’d be there with half an hour to spare, enough time to check in on the children and go over the candidates’ profiles together.

  As efficient as always, Pearl was ready to go when I knocked on her office door, across from mine. Giving her an office with her name on the door was a deserving move, in my opinion. Other co-workers speculated about our relationship and the chemistry we had working together, but neither of us paid them any mind.

  At the estate, I left Pearl in the office going over the applications, while I searched for the kids. Mrs. Philpott, the housekeeper, had been assigned their care until a caregiver was found. She’d hired an extra maid temporarily at my request so she could tend to the girls, but I could tell she was uncomfortable with the new task. If she had children and she couldn’t relate to Anabelle and Isabelle, would anyone else be able to?

  She was in the library with them where desks and tables were set up for their classes. When she looked up and saw me, a look of relief crossed her face.

  “Mr. Simpson,” she greeted me. “The girls are completing the worksheet Mrs. Bishops left them.”

  At least the woman hadn’t left them with nothing to do. I couldn’t be mad at her because she had tried. “I’ll take it from here, Mrs. Philpott. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.”

  When she left, I ambled over to the twins and squatted so I didn’t appear intimidating. “Hello, Annabelle, Isabelle. How are you today?” I asked, aiming for a friendly tone, but I sounded stilted and awkward even to my own ears.

  “Fine,” they replied in unison. Their heads were bent over their books, hair swinging forward to obscure most of their faces.

  “What did you learn today with Mrs. Philpott?” I pressed.

  They shook their heads. Nothing. I glanced down at their books where they had patterns and sequence Math questions they were working on. Yet they had done
none. I was alarmed, but they had gone through so much I didn’t mention their lack of interest in their school work.

  “Why don’t you call it a day and go watch some TV?” I suggested.

  They closed their books promptly and, hand in hand, left the room. I sighed and perched on the teacher’s desk, taking a moment to gather myself. This had to work. I had to choose the right ‘mother figure’ for my daughters this afternoon. They never talked to me about their mother, so I didn’t know if they’d had a good relationship with her. However, I was determined to find a woman with desirable qualities to nurture and help them grow positively.

  “Sir,” Henry announced with a knock on the door. “The first applicant is here.”

  “Thank you, Henry. Could you be so kind as to have a refreshment table set up for them in the waiting area?”

  “Certainly, sir. Is that all?”

  “For now.”

  I exited the room behind him, but he headed for the kitchen while I trotted quickly back to the office. Pearl sat behind my desk in the chair I’d set up for her so we could sit side by side.

  “Everything okay?” she asked as I assumed my seat.

  “It will be if one of these women turns out to be suitable.”

  The interviews went well. I felt better after the first three and thanked God I’d not selected anyone from the first batch. I’d known better women were out there who were more suitable for the job. I was grateful for Pearl being there, too. She was direct and asked questions I wouldn’t have considered asking.

  The day wound down to the last applicant. Two women were outstanding for the position. They would be perfect for what this job would require. Three were automatically struck from the list because they were married.

  “Ms. Laurel Snow,” Harry announced as the final woman sauntered into the office. Without looking down to read her profile, I figured out who she was. The woman who had replied to the invitation. It was impossible to say how I knew, but she entered with quiet confidence and a pleasant smile. She was petite with an interesting, heart-shaped face and cleft chin. Her honey-gold blonde hair lay loose down her back and about her face. She pushed a lock back behind her ear, and the trembling of her hand gave her away. She wasn’t as calm as she looked on the exterior, but she was poised, except for that tremor.

  I’d requested professional attire for this interview, and the other women had taken me literally. They’d arrived in jacket suits. Ms. Snow was appropriately attired in a less dramatic fashion, wearing a rose-pink dress with cap sleeves and a high neckline, and the length of the skirt was just above her knees. The high neck and slim build of the bodice of the dress displayed round cups, and the belted waistline negated the view that petite women couldn’t be curvy. Black stockings and low-heeled pumps completed her look.

  “Ms. Snow, thanks for coming,” I greeted her, standing to shake her hand as I had with all the other interviewees.

  “Thanks for having me,” she replied, her dulcet tone rather calming. She shook my hand hesitantly before extending it to Pearl, who wasn’t looking. She withdrew her hand a little awkwardly, and I tried to cover for her so she didn’t feel embarrassed. Pearl hadn’t meant to rebuff her.

  “Have a seat, Ms. Snow.”

  She looked incredibly young, like she was fresh out of college, but peeking at her CV, I quickly did the math. She was twenty-four. Perfect age. Not too young but not very old either. Enough energy to keep up with the girls. Although, at the rate they were going, an elderly woman could keep up with their pace.

  “Ms. Snow, do you have any actual experience taking care of young children?”

  Chapter 5

  Laurel

  At the sharp tone of voice, I glanced away from the handsome man with the compelling blue eyes and focused on the woman sitting beside him. I flushed a little at her hostile expression, properly chagrined for looking so long and hard at her husband. But he was a gorgeous man. They were so alike with the same thick black hair and handsome looks, one would think they were siblings.

  “Uh, well,” I cleared my throat and started my big speech about my different jobs over the years, of which Foxx was just one. I made it clear that while not having direct contact with children, the skills and qualities for those jobs were very much applicable. I’d done my research and was pleased I could answer adequately.

  Her frown remained, though, as if she wasn’t convinced. Her question had taken me by surprise, not because I didn’t plan for it but because it was rather soon for her to ask me that.

  “It’s commendable that you’re able to appreciate how the skills of different jobs can be useful in this new career path,” Mr. Simpson responded, which earned me a scowl from his wife. I felt like he really wanted a caregiver, but she didn’t. “Are you trained in CPR?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” I replied, relieved I had fulfilled at least one requirement. “I took a course at college.”

  “This says you attended University of Texas in Austin,” Mrs. Simpson stated. “But there’s no graduate year mentioned.”

  “That’s because I didn’t get to finish final year,” I answered honestly. “I didn’t have the resources to pay for the final year of college, and the scholarship I was on stopped funding students at that institution.”

  “And your last job listed was at Foxx,” she added. “Why did you leave this job without having another one lined up?”

  “We had a disagreement of a very delicate nature which I can’t share at this time.”

  “And why not?”

  “Pearl,” he reprimanded gently, then turned to me. “What do you anticipate your duties will entail?”

  The grilling continued for a while, with his wife getting a few jabs at me by way of questions about my experience and lack of qualifications in childcare. By the time he asked me if I had any questions, I was a bit frustrated and needed to pee, but I did answer the questions to the best of my abilities.

  “How old are your children?” I asked.

  “They’re both eight,” he replied. “Just so you know, the position requires the suitable candidate to live here twenty-four seven,” he reiterated. “If you don’t mind a few questions which may seem personal, I assure you they have everything to do with the job.”

  “Umm…okay.” I hoped he would make it quick so I could ask to use a bathroom.

  “This job requires a longstanding commitment,” he stated. “I don’t want Anabelle and Isabelle changing caregivers often. I want them to have stability—preferably, to get used to one individual. If you noticed, the salary offered is very competitive to ensure the selected person won’t be enticed away because of lack of benefits. My question is, do you have anything you’re committed to or are likely to be committed to which will make you unable to fulfill these tasks for a lengthy period?”

  “No, no such commitments,” I answered.

  “No boyfriend?” That was a bit personal. His wife frowned at him too.

  “No boyfriend,” I affirmed. “Nor am I looking for a relationship anytime soon.”

  “You’re twenty-four,” she piped up. “Very young. Surely a beautiful woman such as yourself would be looking to settle down and have a family of her own soon.”

  “I can assure you I don’t see that happening any time soon,” I retorted. “I’m not looking for romance. To be frank, I need a longstanding, committed job, so this would be perfect.”

  “Good.” He nodded. “Then you’ll hear from us within twenty-four hours whether you get the job or not.”

  “I understand,” I replied and got hastily to my feet. “Thanks again for the interview. I do hope you find a suitable caregiver for your daughters. Even if it’s not me.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Snow. That’s very kind of you.”

  “The butler will be waiting on the other side of the door to escort you out,” Mrs. Simpson told me.

  I took that as my cue to get the hell out, and I knew I wouldn’t get this job because the wife didn’t like me. Did she think
I would be interested in her husband? I wasn’t lying when I’d stated I had no intentions of being romantically involved with another man. I’d loved Scott, and his betrayal had hurt my heart and bruised my ego. I needed time to get over that. Plus, it was better for me to think about my career instead of a man. If I saved rigorously, I could pay for my mother’s surgery at the end of this year. Maybe I could even find time to complete my final year and get my MBA.

  The butler waited outside the office to escort me out. I’d been awed earlier when I’d driven through the automatic gates and down a long way before reaching the house, which was located on a large stretch of land. The two-story structure, which seemed to be made of metal, wood, and glass, was stunning. The glass walls were opaque from the exterior but offered a beautiful scene when inside. Where I had sat in the waiting area, I’d had a view of the pool.

  “Excuse me, may I use the bathroom, please?” I asked the butler. I couldn’t drive home in this condition.

  “Certainly. Follow me, madam.” I tried not to giggle at the way he said madam but a little escaped. He glanced at me so I sobered up. “Continue along this corridor and make a right turn,” he told me. “The female bathroom is the second one.”

  There’s a female bathroom separate from the male bathroom? I didn’t ask. I continued along the corridor, acting unfazed as though I was used to this grandeur. I took the turn indicated and located the bathroom. I could finally relax when I emptied my bladder. Only then did I look around at the half-bath.

  “Wow,” I breathed, studying the mosaic tiled floors and blue walls, marble counter tops, white cabinets, and vessel sink. The large oval mirror was in a thick braided rope setting. Everything was quite lovely, and I could only imagine what a full bathroom in this house looked like. It would have been amazing living here.

  After washing my hands, I used the automatic dryer before leaving. Finding my way back was a problem. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere because I ended up in a corridor I’d not seen before. Hearing voices, I continued in the direction, hoping someone would steer me in the right direction.