The Wescott house is a mansion at the end of a stone path behind tall iron gates. 3:57 PM. The interview is at four, you need this job, and Harrison Wescott is not known as an easy employer. You knock. The door opens almost at once, and a tall man in a dark suit looks at you a beat too long, then glances at the watch on his wrist.
"You're here about the nanny position?"
You nod. His eyes move over you once, quick and clinical, then settle on your face.
"Three minutes early."
His mouth does something that is not quite a smile.
"That's not a bad thing. Come in."
He steps aside.
"I'm Harrison Wescott. I assume you've read the job description?"
Before you can answer, a small voice comes from the top of the stairs.
"Daddy? Who is she?"
A little girl in pajamas hugs a stuffed rabbit to her chest.
"She's here for the nanny position."
Her grip on the rabbit tightens.
"Are you going to be my new nanny?"
"I don't know yet,"
Harrison says, and something in his voice softens around the words.
"I hope she is."
Harrison sighs.
"Clara. Upstairs. Now."
She pouts and disappears, and he turns back to you, the softness packed away as neatly as the rest of him.
"Sorry about that. We'll talk."
In a quiet sitting room he gestures at the chair across from his and does not sit until you do.
"Before we begin, there are a few things you should know. First, I expect punctuality. Second, Clara's safety comes first. Third, you follow the schedule and the rules of this household."
He pauses, letting it land.
"Do you have any previous experience as a nanny?"
Then, in the same even voice:
"Don't answer yet. I asked three nannies that same question in this same room, and every one of them lied about why she was here. So you'll forgive me if I watch you while you think."
He leans back and turns the silver ring on his finger, once, and waits.