The Doctor's Fake Nanny(2)

"No, I definitely don't think it's broken, sweetie, but I do have  something I think would help. I think it would make everything better,  actually. Do you want to see it?"



"Yes!"



No hesitation, just immediate demand for the cure. I laughed and dug  through the purse hanging off of my shoulder. Being a kindergarten  teacher was a major advantage in situations like this because I was  always prepared. I finally found what I was looking for, a Disney  Band-Aid that I held up reverently for her inspection.                       
       
           



       



"What do you think? Should we do it?"



"Yup, those stickies always make things better."



"They really do seem to. Alright, let me see that finger. How old are  you anyway, little lady? Might as well get to know you a little better,  since you're getting my favorite Band-Aid."



"Me? I'm this many."



She held up four chubby little fingers with a pride that made me want to  laugh all over again. She was clearly proud of how worldly she was at  four years old. I could see it in her big blue eyes. Man, she really was  pretty adorable.



"And how many is that?"



"Four! You can count them! I'm Sophie, too. That's what my daddy named me."



"That's a really beautiful name. My name is Kayla. I'm pretty sure my  daddy picked my name, too. I think I might like yours better, though."



She grinned, pleased as punch by the compliment. Her injured finger  seemed to have been completely forgotten and she raised one chubby hand  to touch my cheek."



"It's soft," she whispered, running her fingers up and down the side of  my face, "but it looks different than me. How come we aren't the same  color?"



"Sophie!"



Oh god, I almost had a heart attack at that sound. I had come here for a  reason but when Sophie had come scurrying into the foyer I had almost  forgotten what that reason was. I had gone into kid mode and, for a  moment, I was able to just enjoy how simple and beautiful it was to be  that young and innocent. That loud, commanding voice brought me back to  reality with a force just as jarring as if I had been slapped straight  across the face.



The reality was that I had basically broken into this unbelievably fancy  house and had a little girl who did not belong to me sitting in my lap.  Crap, this didn't look good. This was probably a really good way to get  arrested. I looked up hesitantly to see who the voice was coming from.



"Sophie, we don't ask questions like that. It isn't polite."



It was the man I had come to see. Dr. David Wyatt. I had seen him  before, several times in fact, but I still couldn't help but marvel over  how young he was.



How could a guy who looked like he had to be around thirty years old be  one of the most renowned cardiologists in the city? To top it all off,  he was impossibly handsome. He made me feel frumpy and awkward just by  being in the same room.



He had dark hair, thick and curly, and the same striking blue eyes as  his little girl. He was tall and lean, a man with the easy muscle tone  of a born athlete. He was pretty much too good-looking to live and I  rolled my eyes at how nervous that made me. I had to get a grip if I was  going to have a shot in hell of pulling this thing off.



Even while I was trying desperately to get my shit together I noticed  that he was on a phone call even as he descended the stairs. He was  speaking to the person on the other line, and he did not sound happy. It  sounded like he was in the middle of an argument that had been going on  for quite some time. I didn't really know how I was supposed to handle  him, and so I turned back to the chubby little girl in my lap.



"But I just wanted to know. I like it. It looks like the candies I like."



"It's okay, sweetie. It doesn't bother me at all. That's kind of how I  think of my skin, too. It's a little bit like milk chocolate, right?"



"Right! Like my candies!"



"Sophie, that's enough. Come here, please."



Sophie didn't move. She leaned her warm body closer into me and looked  at Dr. Wyatt with a cranky, sullen expression. It was obvious to all of  us that she had no desire to go to him.



"Sophie. Now."



She went, but hesitantly. She didn't seem to have any of the excitement I  would have expected a little girl to have for her father. Honestly, I  wasn't even sure if she liked him. She definitely looked a little bit  wary. I just couldn't be sure why.



Now that I no longer had a little girl to tend to there wasn't much of a  reason for me to be on the ground and I rose quickly, trying to  preserve whatever dignity I could. It looked like the good doctor was  still on the phone, giving me a scrutinizing look as he spoke, but he  hadn't asked me to leave yet. What did that mean?



I didn't know what to do with myself so I did what I always did when I  was nervous. I cleaned. And believe me, there was plenty of that to do.



It wasn't just the explosion of Sophie's belongings, either. There was  paperwork everywhere, and even a few discarded to go containers as well.  I wondered to myself when the last time someone had dusted this place  and if this mess continued throughout the entire house. If so, cleaning  this place could take a long, long time.                       
       
           



       



"I don't care what you think, it's not going to happen. If you want to  get a lawyer, get a lawyer. Nothing is going to change. Now if that's  all, I've got more important things to do."



He hung up the phone with a level of agitation that I could physically  feel permeating the room and I glanced quickly in his direction before  continuing my quest for cleanliness.



"I apologize for my daughter. She hasn't learned yet that some questions are not appropriate to ask."



"It's really okay. She's right, my skin does look different than hers. It's only natural that she would want to know why."



Dr. Wyatt looked both uncomfortable by my mentioning the obvious fact  that I was black while the two of them were white and slightly annoyed  at my contradicting him. I had a feeling he wasn't all that used to  being disagreed with. About anything.



"Well, I'm glad she hasn't offended you. That being said, may I ask what you are doing in my home?"



Now it was my turn to be uncomfortable. Just why exactly had I decided  to walk right into this home like I owned it? If I wanted to get the job  this might not be the best way to go about it.



"Yes, I mean, of course. That's a natural question. I'm here for the  interview. For the position to nanny your daughter? I rang the bell a  couple of times but nobody came so I, well, I just sort of came in."



"Well, that's awfully tenacious of you. But you're here and Sophie seems  to like you so far, so let's conduct the interview as planned. If  you'll follow me to the office? And you can stop cleaning now."



I felt my face flush as I followed Dr. Wyatt down a long hallway, a mess  of Sophie's things still in my hands. I set them down in the first bin I  saw along the way, making a note of how I might better organize the  storage in this place. If I got the job, that was, which seemed like a  pretty big if.



"This is it, just in here."



It looked like something from a movie. A large mahogany desk sat in  front of floor to ceiling windows and the walls appeared to be made  entirely of built-in bookshelves. Those shelves were full of the medical  journals I would have expected of a man like him, but also a wealth of  fiction that surprised me for some reason.



All of my favorite novels were on those shelves, everything from Austin  to Vonnegut to Fitzgerald. I wondered if he really read those books or  if he just had them there to impress people who wandered into his  office. Still, it was impressive. I had to give him that, however  grudgingly.



"Please, take a seat."



I hesitated, suddenly overcome by an urge to just turn and run. I didn't  want to sit across from this man. I didn't know if I was actually  strong enough to take on everything I had planned, and I knew that if I  sat down and had this interview, I would be committing to it. I didn't  have any time to think about it further, though, because Dr. Wyatt was  looking up at me with a mixture of expectancy and impatience.



I sat. I was all in, whether I was sure I wanted to be or not. I could  see that he was ready to ask his questions and I had to be able to give  him the answers he needed in order for him to hire me.



"Well, first thing's first, Miss … ?"



"Kayla. Kayla Evans."



"Alright, first thing's first, Kayla. Do I know you from somewhere?"