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"Sorry, could you repeat the question?"
"Have you ever been to New York?" he asks patiently.
Memories of masks, whiskey, and a chandelier-lit night crosses my mind. That was the only wild night I'd ever had on God's green earth in my twenty-nine years. Goosebumps flood my skin as I reflect on my phantom lover—the best I've ever had.
"Yes, I have."
"On business or pleasure?"
What does this have to do with being a babysitter?
"On business." I lie without looking away from him. It isn't hard; I've been doing it since I arrived here.
"I see."
He stands from his chair, picks up a remote, and presses it. Ahead of us, the floor opens up, and a large flatscreen television rises out of the ground like an electronic Lazarus. I roll my eyes furtively. What a show-off.
Tristan presses a button, and the television comes on. He retakes his seat and keeps his eyes on the television, pretending he’s not there.
What is this? Is the interview done? Have I failed?
"Where's Ruby?" I ask, trying to prompt a question. "I haven't seen her since I arrived here."
"Why should I choose you as my daughter's nanny, Ms. Ga—"
"Where's Ruby?" I can't stop myself from asking.
"You just interrupted me, don't make that a habit."
I shake my head, frustrated. I'm getting off the wrong foot here and can't afford to. I need to get this job. I must get close to Ruby and be in Tristan Jackson's home. This has to go according to plan.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Jackson. I've been told I do that a lot."
"You have?" he looks amused. "By who?"
By Mr. Dark Eyes, who made me feel alive that night.
"Just some guy," I answer dismissively, hoping he drops the topic.
"Some guy?" He steeples his fingers and almost smiles. "What guy?"
I frown. What is this?
"Mr. Jackson, you asked me if I'm fit to be your daughter's nanny, and I believe I am. I am great with kids and have a degree in education. Your ad stated that you want an educated nanny who can also homeschool your kid due to your public image and the danger that may come with it. I think I'm the person for that job, and you should consider me. I'm sure you won't find someone better in town."
I conclude my monologue and realize I'm standing. I don't remember standing up. Tristan is looking up at me, his face expressionless. I slowly sit and put my hands in my jeans pocket.
"What high school did you go to?"
He has a knack for asking questions that catch me off guard. I relax into the chair, determined not to be caught off guard anymore.
"The only high school in town."
"Which is?"
"New Brooks High."
"Did you know Deanna Fisher?"
