“Do you like children?” he asks, throwing a strict look at me from under his furrowed brows.
I feel like rolling my eyes.
“I love them,” I answer confidently.
Not that I’m embellishing… only a tiny bit.
“Let’s do it like this. I offer you a job…”
I smile. Did it work?
“…as my son’s nanny,” he finishes.
The smile slides off my face as quickly as it appeared.
“Actually, I came for the secretary position, and…”
“I don’t have any other job for you. Are you agreeing to the nanny position?”
“I agree.”
Only, if I knew what I was signing up for: did they send me help—or a test?