Page 9 of Quiet as Kept

“You’re going to get the job.”

“I hope so.”

“You’re going to get it, and you’re going to be living in the lap of luxury, ma’am. Wait until you see Kept’s house. It’s a mansion, a beach-front mansion. It’s huge, and it’s beautiful. It’s all airy and bright.” She hit the steering wheel in her excitement. “He has a pool.”

“You know I don’t know how to swim, but I’ll put my feet in it.” I paused. “Please stop sending me off, Hi. I don’t have the job. This is an interview, remember? Kept’s going to decide if he wants to hire me or not.”

“Okay. Okay. Let me stop acting like you already have the job. You’re right. I’m hopeful though.”

We came off a two-lane street onto another. Oversized beach retreats lined both sides of the street. Just beyond the houses on the right side of the road, I could see the blue horizon meeting the blue water of the Atlantic Ocean.

“Lord, have mercy,” I muttered. “This place is too beautiful to be real.”

“It’s definitely a far cry from how we grew up in Londynville.”

“What does Kept do for a living? How can he afford all of this? I know he’s an entrepreneur, but what the hell is he entrepreneur-ing?”

She snickered. “Girl, Kept is a builder. He builds homes. Wait until you see his house. He built it. And like I told you, it’s gorgeous.”

“So, is he an architect?”

“He actually does have a degree in architecture, but that’s not how he makes his money. He buys land, acres and acres of land, gets it zoned for residential subdivisions and then builds homes.”

“Damn.”

“Right? But you know he comes from money. His dad was a professional athlete. It’s not that difficult to buy your first twenty acre plot of land in South Carolina when your father is a multi-millionaire.”

“True. So, he’s a millionaire now too?”

She nodded. “He’s a millionaire. He’s out here creating generational wealth for his daughters.”

“What do you think the interview is going to be like?”

“I think the most important thing is that the girls take to you. Other than that . . . I mean, you have the education and the experience. You handle a classroom of what? Twenty three-year-olds on a daily basis?”

“Sixteen.”

“Right, and he only has two girls. That should be a piece of cake. Lead with your experience. He remembers you. He remembers how you used to take care of all the kids on the block.”

I smiled at the memory.

“He remembered that you always had somebody’s baby on your hip.”

“True. True.” I chuckled, thinking of my younger days. Easier times when I thought I couldwisha great life for myself and it would happen. Before I learned that “Hard Knock Life” was more than just a song from that movieAnnie.

“Oh, and the last nanny was a crash out. He caught her in his bed playing with herself one night.”

My eyes ballooned. “What?”

“Yes. Can you believe that? His back is against the wall. He needs a nanny ASAP. He wants to hire you. All you need to do is shine in the interview. You’ve got this.”

When Kept and I met as teenagers, I thought he was a handsome guy. As a full grown, adult man, I thought he was gorgeous. His skin, though fair, was sun-kissed and toasted with a glowing tan. His light brown eyes, hooded and low like he’d been smoking all day when I knew he hadn’t been, were clear and sharp. His eyebrows were bushy and thick, and in conjunction with his strong jawline gave features that when put together could have been consideredpretty. Kept wasn’t aprettyman. He was fine as hell, but he definitely wasn’t pretty. I took in his thick pink lips, groomed beard, and crisp line up and tried not to stare. I didn’t want him to think I was a weirdo or that hiring me would be as big of a mistake as hiring the freak nanny had been.

He was holding one of his girls, which made the picture even more delectable—a man who was also an active father. I wanted to fan myself.

I smiled at the little girl in his arms.

“Hey. I’m Xari. Are you Dakota?”