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“You’ll go?”
“Yes.” The least I could do was give this a shot. I had to start looking for a job anyway. My bills were piling up and my savings were very limited because for the past two years, I also had a freelancer boyfriend who made next to nothing from his so-called music career. Jackson drained me physically, emotionally, and financially.
“Yay! I’ll give you Emily’s number so you can set everything tonight. Heads up, she’s going to want to see you ASAP, so maybe wash your hair.”
I should have washed my hair regardless. The popcorn smell was overwhelming.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“If this works out and you take the job, you have to promise me something.”
“Drinks on me after my first paycheck?”
“Girl, no. You have to solemnly swear if something—anything—happens between you and Hunter Knox, you will tell me.”
“What?”
“I’ve heard he likes blondes.” She took a good look at my hair, that was all the way down to my waist, pushed back by a hairband.
“That doesn’t mean anything. Stop.”
“Promise me, Amy.”
“There is no need for that.” The man who owned multiple clubs for exhibitionists wouldn’t look at his nanny twice. Poppy was crazy just for thinking about it. Plus, I wasn’t into the whole rich, alfa, mysterious man thing. All I wanted was to find a good man, honest, not a cheater, and have a small house with a white fence and petunias in the back yard.
Poppy rolled her eyes and got up. I didn’t tell her there was a popcorn stuck to her new Rag & Bone pair of jeans because I would get the lecture about how I had to get off the couch and leave Jackson, Sylvia, and the shitshow they made behind me. Maybe Poppy was right, and to be honest, it wasn’t the breakup that turned me into a couch potato. Jackson and I were not good for each other; he was a guy chasing a spotlight and I was too shy to get out of the shadows. I couldn’t say I’d ever loved him like crazy, he was always mad because I didn’t show up to his music gigs because I had to work, and our sex life was mediocre which he blamed on me, and maybe he was right. I was not adventurous, especially in bed.
“Oh, Amy.” Poppy stopped before stepping into the kitchen and turned to me. “One more thing. They will run a background check on you.”
My heart raised to my throat and started to beat faster.
“What?”
“Hey, no, no, don’t worry. Your juvenile records are sealed, remember? Dad took care of all that.” Poppy’s father was a judge and he did me a favor before I applied for my job at the school. “The only thing that’s going to show up is your adoption record and that arrest you had after you turned eighteen, but that was nothing.”
“I was arrested for assault, Poppy. He’ll never hire someone who’s violent to take care of a child.”
“It was self-defense. Just explain that to him. Stop looking for reasons to not go. I’m not letting you spend another day in your cave, watching bad television and eating things that come from a bag.”
Yeah, I couldn’t talk my way out of this. When Poppy used her serious voice, it meant she was on a mission. I had no choice but to go to the interview willingly or she’d drag me there.
I picked up the card she left for me on the coffee table and dialed Emily Martin, personal assistant to the one and only Hunter Knox.
