Page 9 of Watching Henry

“Yes, you,” Maisie said with a laugh. “You'll still have to interview though. This afternoon at two thirty, I'll text you the details. That's alright with you, right?”

Florence had to swallow away a dry throat. The world had been closing in on her, the debts looming ever closer, and now here she was, a helping hand held out in front of her. She didn't believe in luck, only in hard work, but this... Well, it was some coincidence if it wasn't luck.

“Yes, of course, it's absolutely fine,” she said.

“Great, keep an eye on your messages then,” Maisie said as she hung up.

Florence let the crowd of people flow around her, not caring for once that she was disrupting the current, not realizing that this was only the beginning of something that was going to force her to disrupt everything she knew and was.

A job.

Just in the nick of time.

SHE HAD NO need to look into the plate glass windows to admire her appearance. She knew exactly how she looked. Professional, sleek and efficient.

Her skirt was knee-length, her blouse was buttoned to the neck, her hair was swept back into a bun, and her glasses were balanced perfectly on her nose. Her heels were a sensible height and the only makeup she wore was a little powder and a swipe of pale lipstick.

She was ready for anything.

Which was just as well because the man that strode out of the office to greet her was the most attractive man she thought she'd ever seen.

“Colby Allan,” he barked, holding out his hand.

“Florence Underwood,” she took his hand and gave it a strong shake, gripping with just the right amount of pressure.

“Please follow me. I assume you have paper copies of your qualifications and your CV?”

She handed him a neat folder with her name typed across the top and then followed him into a huge office. For a second the view took her breath away.

“Excellent, take a seat. I have a few questions.”

He took her through a list of elementary childcare questions that she could answer so easily that she had plenty of time to study him.

Salt and pepper hair. A physique that spoke of workouts, though his muscles didn't bulge through his shirt. Blue eyes that wrinkled at the corner. An expensive suit. An expensive office. Yes, Colby Allan was a rich man, a rich attractive man.

For a moment she couldn't help but think about The Sound of Music.

Whilst it was true that most nannies sacrificed everything to bring up other people's children, there were exceptions. Perhaps Mr. Allan was widowed. It wasn't particularly usual for a man to be interviewing a nanny, as sexist as that sounded, it was true.

“Very well, Ms. Underwood. I'd ask for your views on discipline, please.” He interrupted her thoughts.

“Never anything physical, never a raised voice,” Florence said fluidly. “Discipline should be instilled early and be consistent. Time-outs are effective with most ages and are a good first line of defense. Grounding, rescinding of privileges, things like this also work well in older children. Above all, discipline must be a constant in life.”

He smiled and the room lit up. “I couldn't agree more. I expect firm and consistent discipline for all three children. Let me be honest with you, Ms. Underwood.”

She didn't fidget even though she knew now that she'd clinched the job. She tilted her head politely to show that she was listening.

“My ex-wife is somewhat... less than reliable,” he began.

An ex-wife. Okay, not a widower, but still single. And attractive, empirically so. Her stomach didn't flip and her pulse didn't race but maybe those things came with time. Maybe she could learn to love him. Maybe she could have her own Sound of Music moment. But without the foolish songs, of course.

“I have three children, a ten year old son and five year old twins. Obviously we had a nanny, unfortunately, due to my ex-wife's less than dependable nature bills went unpaid and that nanny has now left us.”

The first red flag. Unpaid salaries were not a good thing. Obviously.

“This will not happen again,” he said firmly. “You will be under contract to me and me only, I will be responsible for your payment. This is to be a two month contract, though we may discuss prolonging our agreement.”

Two months? She'd been hoping for a permanent position. Still though, two months was better than nothing. Two months would give her time to organize something else, to look for another job.