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.

me a somewhat disgusted

in a plush armchair in the corner, where I sat quietly

in hysterics. “She’s a little monster!” she said, tears streaming

room fell silent as the woman marched out, followed by a few other women who must have decided that whatever waited for them upstairs wasn’t worth it. I, along with several others, decided to take the 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

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 willing

“Moana Fowler.”

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

upright and nervously wiping a bit of drool off of the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “Is it my turn?” I looked around to

sternly, stepping away from me and gesturing toward

I haven’t had my interview,” I said frantically, standing with my resume clutched in

more candidates,” she interrupted.

felt my heart drop into my stomach as I shook my

promise you won’t regret it if

several painfully long moments before sighing. “Fine,” she said, turning and starting to ascend

a wide hallway that was lined with large, ornate wooden doors. Finally, we stopped in front of a door at the end

voice growled from behind a high-backed chair that faced the empty fireplace. “I don’t

to see you,” I said softly, stepping

appraising me, for several moments as I stood in the middle of the room. Suddenly, as if my appearance didn’t meet her standards, the little girl leaped out of her seat and rushed toward me, her childish face twisted into an angry snarl and her werewolf fangs bared. Between the mop of messy blonde hair poked two pointed

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

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

down to meet the little girl’s gaze. Her hair had fallen into her eyes. I slowly extended my hand to brush it away; she flinched, growling and baring

pretty,” I said softly, watching intently as the little girl’s ears pricked up and her lips slowly closed. “What’s your

she spoke her face was still pointed down at

Ella,” I said. “My name is Moana. Can I ask why you want